#Everyone there has the best taste ever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chosok-amo · 6 days ago

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LITTLE LOOSE TO SAVE THOUSAND, g. suguru

☆ sum. your roommate ’bout to show you have to make easy-money and become rich in one night, wonder how? no? have no idea? probably not. but geto has lots of lamps hanging around his head and he’s about to show you how easy it is to make money, psst. . . you may not be able to walk after— but you don’t know, yet.

warning. non-sorcerer au, roomate-geto, sqūirting, exhibitionism, anāl, spanking, praises, dirty talk, pet-names, fingēring, dōuble-penetration, degrāding, name-calling, geto is dirty mannnn.

sitting in the kitchen, a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you, you held chopsticks in one hand and your phone in the other, scrolling endlessly through job listings, searching for another side gig to earn extra money. apparently, everything seems to revolve around money these days.

you sighed, setting your phone down on the table—not too roughly, though; you couldn’t afford a replacement if it broke, especially with your student loans hanging over you.

a chuckle made you look up, and there stood your roommate, suguru geto— a medical student at your university, clearly amused by the frustrated look on your face.

you frowned as geto walked over to the fridge, bending down to grab a bottle of water. only then did you really take in his appearance—he was wearing nothing but a pair of snug, black calvin klein boxers that hugged his muscular, toned body— toned cock, a fucking huge one.

you shifted your gaze to the window to avoid staring, but when he moved closer and took a seat across from you at the small, round dining table, it was impossible to ignore his presence. scowling, you poked at your now almost-cold chicken noodle soup with your chopsticks and muttered, “you’re not funny, you know that, right?”

geto just smirked, unbothered by your irritation. he was well-known around campus for his striking looks, his intelligence, and his impressive physique. everyone knew him not only for his kindness and calm nature but also because he was best friends with another popular figure, gojo satoru. yet, there was another side to geto that added to his reputation—he was a live streamer, and not just any streamer, he is a fucking porn star.

geto ran a successful channel that catered to an adult audience, where he would occasionally show off that sculpted body and let people get a taste of his rich, honeyed voice. he had a loyal fanbase willing to pay for the privilege of watching him, and his popularity only seemed to grow each day.

people paid good money to watch him become a whimpering, trembling mess, undone by pleasure until he was left breathless. they’d pay to see him moan and shiver, eyes rolling back as choked sounds escaped his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled for air.

to see his, massive, veiny cock; how it’s twitching and throbbing around another veiny, muscle hand of his. geto is sooo beautiful when he drowns in pleasure, you almost want to see it to yourself.

they paid to see him in that state—to see sweat and tears glisten on his flushed cheeks, his face turning that deep, crushed-cherry red. his toned chest would rise and fall in desperate gasps, every inhale and exhale a battle to steady himself. it was intoxicating for his viewers to witness the way he fell apart on camera, giving them every last bit of him.

and you? you were one of the few who could hear it all through the thin walls you shared, every broken sound slipping through. he never even bothered with soundproofing his studio, claiming he just wanted to “help you out a little,” in case you ever wanted to listen in.

he was utterly shameless.

you were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of geto's smooth, velvet voice. a chuckle escaped his lips, a teasing smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. he took a sip from the bottle of water he was holding in his hand, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his jaw flexed with each swallow, only adding to the smugness in his expression.

“what’s with the attitude?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. you knew he was enjoying this; he liked it when you were riled up. it was a game to him, a way to get under your skin, maybe under you.

you scoffed, crossing your arms as you shot him a glare. “i don’t have an attitude,” you bit back, though your narrowed eyes and scowl made it clear you weren’t exactly in a friendly mood. even though you denied it, your glare only seemed to fuel his amusement, his smirk growing wider as he watched you struggle not to react.

there was a brief moment of silence, the only sound filling the air was the gentle bubbling of your chicken noodle soup and the soft slurping coming from geto as he took another sip of his water. his eyes never left your face, a playful glint in his violet irises as he studied you, taking in your every move.

“you’re really grumpy when you’re looking for a new job, you know that?” he said, his words were casual, as if he was commenting on the weather.

you rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated huff. “well, not everyone can make money as easily as you,” you muttered, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

his words were so casual, so nonchalant, as if he were pointing out the color of the sky, and that only irked you more, like you want nothing but slap his beautiful face, thinking maybe, just maybe. . . he will let out a pleasure moan like you after heard. meanwhile, he kept studying you with that amused, knowing look in his violet eyes, as though your frustration was his favorite form of entertainment.

geto’s smirk widened, clearly finding your reaction amusing. he took another sip of his water before responding, his voice low and smooth.

“hmm,” he hum, eyes glinting with mischief. he leaned back in his chair, casually draping his toned arms over the back of it, completely at ease in his near-naked state. his muscles flexed subtly with each movement, drawing your gaze no matter how hard you tried to resist.

“i could help you, you know?” he said, his tone almost sweet. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at you with a deceptively innocent expression, batting his lashes at you.

“that is, if you’re interested in making some easy money. there is a catch, though.”

you scowled, trying to focus on your soup instead of his physique— his chest, his glisten abs, the growing bulge underneath the black, stretch fabric, in general, just him. but it was difficult to ignore the way the muscles in his arms and chest flexed with even the slightest movement.

it was infuriating how effortlessly attractive he was, and how nonchalantly he seemed to show it off. he knew the effect he had on people, and he was clearly enjoying the reaction it drew out of you.

geto leaned back in his chair again, looking at you with a knowing smile. his arms were still raised, showing off his well-defined biceps and triceps, like a lion flaunting its strength.

“the catch is,” he said, pausing for a moment as he took a sip of his water, “it’s a little bit more. . . hands-on, shall we say?”

his words left a lot up to interpretation, and he was clearly enjoying how you were trying to decipher what he was suggesting. his expression was a mixture of mischief and amusement, as if he was watching an interesting social experiment unfold before him.

“but, if you're interested,” he added, his tone turning almost suggestive, “i could introduce you to my side gig.” he licked his lips, tongue darting across his lower lip in an almost sensual way, before taking another sip of his water.

and for a moment, just a beat, you wonder how his tongue feels licking your dripping cunt.

you raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep your expression as indifferent as possible, even though his suggestive tone and the lewd imagination was starting to get to you. humming softly, you leaned back a bit, feigning complete nonchalance.

“yeah? who, yourself?” you replied, voice smooth and dismissive, as if his little game had no effect on you. but the way he licked his lips—slow, deliberate—had your heartbeat picking up and your thighs flushing against one another, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

geto’s violet eyes narrowed, a sly smile playing on his lips. he leaned forward, his chair scraping slightly against the ground as he moved closer to you. the distance between you two felt like it had suddenly shrunk, and you caught a whiff of his cologne—spicy, musky, and distinctly masculine.

“oh sweetheart,” he purred, his voice dripping with honey-sweet condescension, “it’s a bit more involved than that.” he paused again, savoring the moment, his eyes locked on yours. he lifted his hand and ran his fingers down his neck, tracing the lines of his defined collarbone, before resting his hand lightly on his chest.

geto leaned back once more, his casual smirk widening as he took another sip of his water. his eyes never left your face, though, and you could see the challenge in them. he was trying to test you, to see if he could break you, to see if you were as indifferent as you were trying to appear.

he licked his lips once more, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path across his lower lip. his gaze dropped to your neck for a moment, taking in your visible gulp before his eyes flicked down to your breast, a little nipples peeking through your baby tee. cute.

“but if you’re up for it,” he continued, his tone teasing, “i could show you just how hands-on it can be.”

and in a beat. . .

geto had you naked, looking all pretty and flustered on his lap, fingers slowly teasing your little bud with precise strokes— thighs spread wide open for the world to see with your back kissing his broad chest, intertwine with his soft skin.

you freeze up momentarily, taken aback by the sudden intimacy and exposure. your heart races as you glance around the room, hoping no one outside these walls might stumble upon this bizarre situation. the warmth of geto’s body against yours and the gentle pressure of his fingers make it hard to think straight.

“uh, hi... everyone,” you manage to stammer out, trying to sound casual despite the awkwardness. “i guess i’m here now.”

your gaze flickers between the camera lens and geto’s face, searching for any sign of mockery or exploitation. but all you see is his usual calm demeanor, albeit with a hint of excitement. it’s disconcerting yet strangely reassuring.

as he mentions donations influencing their actions, a mix of trepidation and curiosity swirls inside you. what exactly does he have planned? and should you care, given the financial benefits?

“there there, relax,” geto murmurs into your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin as he pulls you closer against his bare chest. “it’s just us and our lovely audience. nothing to worry about,” he chuckles softly, clearly amused by your nervousness.

his fingers continue their slow, teasing dance across your slick folds, sending shivers through your body despite the growing unease. “you’re doing great, by the way. sooo natural in front of the camera already,” he praises, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“our viewers are going to love you.”

on the screen, the donation counter begins to climb rapidly as curious minds tune in, eager to witness this unexpected twist of the new star. geto grins wickedly, relishing the attention.

the live chat starts to fill with messages, some requesting specific acts, others simply expressing their enthusiasm for the new addition to geto’s streams. the atmosphere in the room shifts, becoming more electric and charged with anticipation.

“looks like we’ve got some early requests coming in, let’s see...” geto purrs, scrolling through the increasingly lewd suggestions flooding the chat. “it seems our viewers have quite the imagination.”

he selects a particularly generous donation from someone requesting a deep kiss, smirking as he turns his attention back to you through the screen in front. “well, looks like we have our first task. shall we oblige?”

without waiting for a response, geto leans in close— drawing his fingers from your dripping cunt, mindlessly smearing your juice on your cheek the way he pushes your head to the side, lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress before capturing them fully. his tongue teases the seam of your mouth, coaxing you to part your lips and grant him entry.

his other hand makes a home on your stomach to keep you pressed over his chest— fingertips leaving trails of fire on your sensitive skin, and the kiss deepens, becoming more heated and passionate as geto pours all his focus into this intimate act.

the initial shock fades into a strange sort of numbness as geto’s lips claim yours, his skilled tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. it’s both thrilling and terrifying, the intensity of the kiss overwhelming your senses.

despite the chaos swirling in your mind, you find yourself responding instinctively, meeting his passion with a tentative eagerness of your own. your hands come up to grip the muscles of his arm on your stomach, fingers barely curling into the soft flesh as if anchoring yourself to reality.

when geto finally breaks the kiss, leaving you panting and dazed, you notice the audience eagerly devouring every second of this private display. a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the lingering heat of his touch and the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“mmm,” you hum, satisfied— eyes down to his glistening lips before meeting his hungry irises.

geto is a veryyyy good kisser.

“my my,” geto purrs, a low, sultry tone rumbling through his chest and into your body pressed so intimately against his. “color me impressed,” geto praises lowly once he pulled away from your messy kiss, his fingers lightly brushing across your jawline, smearing your juices over the path.

the contrast between that innocent gesture versus how your slick fluids shone across your cheek has him chuckling under his breath. geto was tempted to lick it clean but held himself back for later.

“the chat loves you already, don’t they?” geto points out playfully as he turned the angle to show off you completely sprawled across his lap in nothing. the circles around your nipples was evident and the sheer number of requests wanting to watch him toy with them, pinch and pull only added to his perverse glee.

“ah, yes,” geto says with a smirk, noticing your gaze drifting down to his hand still resting on your stomach. “’m quite fond of touching you myself, these little beauties need some attention,” he remarks, his voice laced with amusement and arousal. geto’s fingers drift lower, tracing the curves of your breasts before pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between thumb and forefinger. he tugs gently, watching with a smirk as you gasp and arch into his touch.

his thumb grazes over the swell of your breast, circling the hardened nipple before giving it a light pinch. “mmm, you’re so responsive.”

he leans in to whisper huskily in your ear, “our viewers seem to agree. they’re begging for more.” geto glances at the screen, where the donation counter continues to rise and the chat fills with pleas for him to explore your body further.

with a wicked grin, he slides his hand lower, fingers trailing down your quivering belly and dipping into your wet slit for the second time. “shall we give them a show?” he asks, stroking your sensitive folds with deliberate slowness, building the tension within you.

a soft whimper escapes your parted lips as geto’s fingers tease your most intimate area, the each delicate strokes igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your cunt. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, more contact with his skilled digits.

the combination of his skilled touch and the voyeuristic thrill of performing for an unseen audience sends waves of heat coursing through your veins.

the sensation of his calloused palm cupping your breast, the subtle pinch and tug on your nipple, sends jolts of electricity coursing through your veins. your back arches, pressing your chest further into his touch as you let out a breathy moan.

when geto whispers in your ear, promising to give the audience a show, a flush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. the thought of performing for strangers, of letting them bear witness to your most private moments, is both mortifying and exhilarating.

geto’s knowing smile and the way his eyes gleam with mischief only fuel the desire burning within you. you feel powerless yet exhilarated, surrendering to the moment and the talented hands guiding you towards ecstasy.

“yes,” you manage to whimper, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart— heavy with desire. “show ‘em. . .”

along the way geto continues to tease your most sensitive areas, you can’t help but imagine the faces behind those screens, the fantasies they must be conjuring based on the live spectacle unfolding before them. the thought adds a layer of eroticism to the experience, making you acutely aware of your naked vulnerability.

geto lets out a pleased hum at your eager affirmation, fingers continuing their sensual exploration of your wet folds. he rubs slow, firm circles over your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your legs tremble and your hips jerk reflexively against his hand.

“that’s it, baby,” he coos, voice dripping with seduction as he watches your reactions closely. “let them see how much you enjoy this.”

as if to prove his point, geto slides two fingers inside your clenching heat, pumping them slowly while his thumb keeps up its relentless stimulation of your swollen nub. he curls his fingers, searching for that spot deep within that always seemed to send you over the edge.

at the same time, geto captures your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing your mewls of pleasure as he tastes the sweetness of your arousal.

your head falls back against geto’s shoulder as he claims your mouth, the dual sensations of his fingers plunging deep within your core and his thumb rubbing insistently over your clit becoming almost too much to bear. you moan into the kiss, the vibrations echoing through your chest as your inner walls begin to flutter and clench around his invading digits.

geto’s words of encouragement only add to the intensity, the knowledge that you’re putting on a show for an unseen audience heightening the thrill. you can’t help but imagine the lewd thoughts racing through their minds as they watch you lose control, the filthy fantasies they must be conjuring based on the live feed.

as geto hits that sweet spot inside you, your entire body seizes up, back arching sharply as a powerful orgasm rips through you. “mmm— sugu, fuck.”

geto grins wickedly as he feels your pussy clamping down on his fingers, your cries of ecstasy filling the air. he doesn’t let up, continuing to pump and twist his digits within your spasming channel, drawing out your little climax for the viewing audience.

“look at her, she’s cumming all over my fingers,” he announces, voice rough with arousal as he brings the slick digits to his mouth, sucking them clean. “she tastes divine.”

he turns his focus back to you, purple eyes blazing with hunger as he takes in your flushed face and heaving chest. geto slides one hand up to cup your chin, tilting your head back as he leans in for another dominating kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

“my, aren’t you just the prettiest thing when you’re all worked up?” geto purrs, breaking the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline and down the column of your throat. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent.

“and you smell incredible,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. geto’s hands roam over your body, mapping out every curve and dip, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“but i think our audience wants more,” he reminds you, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze through the screen. you gasp as geto pulls away from your neck, his husky praise and the lingering heat of his lips making you ache for more. the sight of him licking his fingers clean, savoring the evidence of your pleasure, sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through you.

there’s a mischievous glint in his amber eyes, a promise of debauchery to come. “she’s such a slut, eh? already cum a minute after i finger fuck her,” he talks to the audience, pretty little smug covering his face.

his words, spoken directly to the camera, make your cheeks burn with embarrassment and arousal. the idea of being reduced to nothing more than a sexual object for these strangers’ entertainment is both humiliating and intensely erotic.

you squirm under geto’s roaming touch, skin prickling with goosebumps as he explores every inch of you. his teasing comments and the predatory gleam in his eyes leave no doubt about what he intends to do next.

geto smirks at the viewer's reaction to calling you a ‘slut’, clearly enjoying the power dynamic between you two and the effect it has on the audience.

“looks like someone likes watching me defile you,” he taunts, trailing a finger down your chest to circle your pert nipple, giving it a playful tweak. “shall i keep going, or have we got a winner for who blows their load first?”

his words are provocative, aimed directly at the camera, as if daring anyone to challenge him or try to outdo him in this twisted game of sexual tit-for-tat. the cocky confidence in his tone is intoxicating, making you feel small and vulnerable beneath his dominant gaze.

as he speaks, geto’s other hand roams lower, fingertips dancing across your belly before slipping between your thighs once more.

his fingers dance over your slick folds once more, gathering more of your essence before trailing upwards to circle your puckered rosebud. “and then, maybe, i’ll take this tight little hole next,” he teases, applying gentle pressure, “just to show everyone how versatile you are.”

geto’s words are laced with lust, and the thought of submitting to such intense degradation in front of a live audience has you panting and squirming in anticipation. the notion that these strangers are witnessing your utter submission, your complete loss of control, only heightens the eroticism of the situation.

“oh— suguru,” a choked moan escapes your lips as geto’s fingers tease your sensitive flesh, the prospect of being taken in such a filthy way sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. you can feel your own arousal coating his digits, easing the path as he circles your virgin entrance.

the humiliation of being spoken about so crudely, of having your most intimate acts broadcast for the world to see, is almost too much to bear. yet there’s something undeniably thrilling about surrendering to geto completely, letting him use your body however he sees fit while an audience looks on.

your nipples harden into stiff peaks, aching for his touch as you writhe helplessly against him. you know he can feel how wet you are— practically dripping down to his thighs— how desperately your body craves more of his ministrations.

geto chuckles darkly at your helpless moans, clearly relishing the power he holds over you in this moment. he continues to torment your rosebud, pressing and circling the sensitive bud until you’re writhing and mewling like a needy kitten.

“such a good girl, getting so excited over the idea of taking my cock in your tight ass,” he praises, his voice low and seductive. “i wonder... should i give the folks at home a preview?”

without waiting for a response, geto guides the tip of his middle finger past your resistant ring muscle, sinking slowly into your clenching heat. he pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, before beginning to push in deeper.

“shit, feels so good wrapped around me,” geto groans softly as he sinks his finger deeper into your tight rear passage, relishing the way your muscles grip him like a vice. he starts to thrust in and out, gradually increasing the pace as he works you open.

“watch her stretch around my finger,” he instructs the camera, his voice thick with lust. ��she’s so fucking tight, but i bet she’d take my cock even better.”

geto’s free hand reaches up to fondle your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers as he continues to finger-fuck your ass. the dual sensations of his probing digit and the stimulation to your sensitive nipple send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves.

a high-pitched whine tears from your throat as geto’s finger pushes deeper, stretching your anal walls to accommodate the intrusion. the burning sensation is intense, but not unpleasant, and you find yourself arching back against him, seeking more of that delicious friction.

“ahh, s-suguru! not there, fuck—” you cry out, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure. the feeling of being so thoroughly penetrated, of having your most private area exposed and used for the amusement of others, is overwhelming.

geto’s filthy talk only adds to your arousal, the knowledge that he’s watching you suffer (or enjoy) this degrading act for the benefit of his online fans making you feel like a cheap whore. and yet, you can’t deny the thrill that courses through you at the thought of being seen in such a compromising position.

geto’s eyes gleam with sadistic glee as he watches you squirm and whimper under his touch. he loves seeing you brought to the brink of discomfort, knowing that it’s all part of the twisted game he’s playing with you.

“shhh, don't worry, baby,” he coos, his voice dripping with false concern. “i’m just getting you ready for my big cock. you’ll love every inch of it buried deep inside you.”

with that promise, geto begins to pump his finger faster, driving it in and out of your stretched asshole with ruthless efficiency. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your breathless cries and the hum of the webcam.

“look at her, guys,” he addresses the camera, his gaze never leaving your flushed face through the screen of his computer.

geto’s free hand snakes around to the front of your body, seeking out your throbbing clit. he finds the swollen nub easily, rubbing firm circles around it as he continues to finger your ass.

“doesn’t she look pretty like this?” he asks the audience, his voice a low purr. “all spread out and filled, taking everything i give her like a good slut.”

he presses a second finger alongside the first, scissoring them apart to stretch you further. the burn intensifies, but so does the pleasure, and you find yourself rocking back onto his hand, chasing both.

“fuck, watch her beg for it,” geto growls, his thumb now rubbing rough circles over your clit. “she’s loving this, aren’t you, whore? loving being used for everyone to see?”

your mind reels as geto’s fingers plunge deeper, the double penetration sending waves of intense pleasure crashing through your body. you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of climax, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around his invading digits.

“fuck, fuckkk,” you wail, no longer caring about the lewdness of your words, head thrown back to his shoulder blade. “deeper. . . please.”

the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you flush with shame, realizing the whole world must have heard your desperate plea. but the humiliation only fuels your desire, making you grind back against geto’s hand with renewed urgency.

“fuck, just like that,” he encourages, his fingers curling to hit that sweet spot inside you. “ride my hand, slut. show these perverts what a greedy little cumslut you are. let ’em watch as i prepare your sweet little ass for my cock, yeah?”

geto smirks wickedly at your submission, pleased by how easily you succumb to his dominance. he picks up the pace, fingering you harder and faster as he watches you lose control.

“that’s it, come undone for me,” he urges, his voice husky with lust. “let go, you dirty little cumwhore. i want to see you squirt all over my hand while you plead for my cock. are you a squirter, baby?”

his fingers move in tandem with his thumb, stroking your clit and prodding, pumping his fingers at your g-spot relentlessly. the combination proves too much, and with a keening wail, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, threatening to overwhelm you entirely.

spasms rip through your sex, your juices gushing out to soak geto’s fingers and palm.

your entire body seizes up as the intense climax rips through you, every nerve ending alight with electric pleasure. you thrash wildly, unable to contain the convulsions that wrack your frame as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you.

“ah, fuuck!” you scream, the sound torn from your throat by the sheer force of your release.

your hips buck erratically, grinding your soaked pussy against geto’s hands as if trying to milk every last drop of pleasure from the intense orgasm. your inner walls clamp down hard on his fingers, milking them for all they’re worth as you ride out the aftershocks.

“ah, there there, we’ve got a squirter, everyone,” geto grin to the camera, slapping your cunt while you lean against his chest, panting heavily, body quivering with residual pleasure.

geto chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying the sight of you coming undone so spectacularly. he keeps his fingers buried deep inside you, letting you grind against them as you float down from your high.

“now that’s what i call a money shot,” he remarks to the camera, holding up his drenched hand for all to see. “this slut really knows how to make a mess, doesn’t she?”

withdrawing his fingers slowly, he brings them to his mouth, making a show of licking your essence off each digit. “mmm, delicious. but i think our viewers deserve a real treat.”

in one smooth motion, geto stand and spins you around and bends you over the desk, kicking your legs apart. the cold surface against your heated skin makes you gasp. “arch your back, baby.”

your breath hitches as geto positions you over the desk, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your cunt. you instinctively arch your back, presenting yourself to him as instructed, your thighs trembling slightly from the aftermath of your intense orgasm.

your legs tremble, presenting your dripping cunt to geto. the cool wood of the desk and the ac feels stark against your sensitive flesh, heightening your awareness of your vulnerability.

“sugu,” you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for anymore— more humiliation, more pain, more pleasure? all you know is that you crave whatever geto has planned next.

behind you, you hear the rustle of fabric, followed by the unmistakable sound of geto freeing his erection. the anticipation is agonizing, your body aching with need even as fear coils in your stomach at the prospect of taking his massive cock.

geto is fucking huge.

“hurry,” you breathe, looking back at him over your shoulder with pleading eyes.

geto’s lips curve into a cruel smirk as he takes in the sight of you presented so wantonly before him. he runs a hand up your spine, nails digging in just enough to leave faint red marks on your skin.

his eyes darkened with lust the moment his big, veiny hand found a place on your ass, grasping the plushy meat eagerly before giving you a mean slap. slap, slap, slap, until it is angry in red. the sight of your splayed form, ass in the air with his hand visibly printed, dripping wet and ready for him.

his thick cock juts out proudly, the tip already glistening with pre-cum, bobbing menacingly between his thighs. he grips the base, giving himself a few slow strokes, coating his length in pre-cum.

“patience, darling,” he purrs, trailing a finger down your spine to rest between your shoulder blades. “we don’t want to rush this. not when the perverts are so eager to see me fuck you.”

with a firm grip on his cock, he notches the bulbous head at your entrance, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. “sshh, breathe,” he commands softly, voice hush and the vibration of his chest when he leans down to give your shoulder a kiss making you softly groan. “you can take it. just relax and let me in.”

slowly, inexorably, he begins to push forward, stretching your opening wider than ever before. geto sheaths himself to the hilt, burying his length inside you with a low groan. the tight squeeze of your cunt envelops him, and for a moment, he simply savors the feeling, letting you adjust to his size; his head is thrown back, and eyes closed as he is too, adjusting to the feeling of your warm cunt around his cock. “fuckkk,” a low whisper could be heard.

geto is good at fucking, his cock has been through a bunch of cunt, but never quite like yours. god, you feel heaven.

the sensation of geto pushing into you is overwhelming, his thickness stretching your walls wide to accommodate him. you grit your teeth, biting back a moan as he buries himself fully within you, filling you completely.

each vein and ridge of his engorged shaft is a brand against your sensitive walls, marking you as his. the fullness is intoxicating, leaving you dizzy with pleasure and desire.

you know geto is big, but fuck.

“oh god... sugu...” you whimper, your body trembling under the weight of his domination. your hands curl into fists, knuckles white as you fight back the urge to push back against him.

but despite the discomfort, despite the pain, there’s no denying the pleasure that courses through you with him just treasure the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock. your cunt climates around him, gripping tightly as if trying to keep him inside you forever.

geto lets out a guttural groan as he bottoms out inside you, relishing the way your hot, slick walls clutch at his throbbing cock. he stays still for a moment, savoring the exquisite feeling of being buried to the hilt in your willing body.

with a satisfied grunt, geto starts moving, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm designed to drag out both his pleasure and yours. each thrust is deep and measured, the heavy swing of his balls slapping lewdly against your clit.

he reaches around to grasp your throat with one hand, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp and arch your back further, presenting yourself even more enticingly. his other hand finds your breast, roughly palming the soft mound before pinching your nipple between thumb and forefinger, tear a high-pitched squeal from you.

“that’s it, good, good,” he growls, his voice muffled slightly by his gritted teeth. “take my cock like a good little cumslut,” he added, drawing another softly gasp after gasp.

“fuck, pussy feels amazing wrapped around my cock like this,” geto grunts, picking up speed as he pounds into you relentlessly. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, and you can feel every inch of his massive cock dragging against your inner walls.

he releases your throat to slide a hand down your belly, fingers dipping into your dripping slit to circle your clit. “gonna make you cum on my cock, then fill this tight cunt with my seed,” he promises, his voice rough with lust.

geto’s grip move to your hip, tightens as he drives into you harder, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your needy whimpers. he leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he captures your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling and sucking. “do you like that, baby?”

geto’s words send shivers down your spine, his filthy promises igniting a fire within you. each brutal thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body, your cunt clenching greedily around his pistoning cock.

the dual sensations of his fingers teasing your clit and his teeth grazing your earlobe are almost too much to bear. you can’t help but buck wildly against him, desperate for more friction, more stimulation.

“uh, mmm,” you cry out, your voice low and breathless, barely a word as there your mind goes somewhere.

geto’s grip on your hip is bruising, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fucks you with reckless abandon. the desk rattles ominously beneath you, the wood creaking in protest at the force of his thrusts.

geto’s lips twist into a cruel smile at your inability to speak coherently, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. “cat got your tongue?” he taunts playfully, giving your clit a sharp pinch. “don’t worry, i’ll fuck some sense into you soon enough.”

he picks up the pace, hammering into you with ruthless intensity. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes obscenely through the room, mixing with your garbled moans and pleas for more. sweat beads on his brow as he chases his own pleasure, lost in the primal act of claiming what’s his.

“look at you,” he pants, admiring how your body yields so perfectly to his desires. “taking my cock like you were made for it.”

“hng,” you let out a high-pitched wail as geto continues to pound mercilessly into you, each thrust sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. your mind is foggy, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

all you can focus on is the feeling of geto’s thick cock splitting you open, the delicious stretch of your walls around his girthy length. your legs tremble uncontrollably, threatening to give out from under you as he relentlessly fucks you into the desk.

your fingers scrabble desperately at the surface, searching for purchase as geto’s powerful thrusts rock your entire frame. droplets of sweat trickle down your face, mingling with the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.

“ahh, f-fuuck!”

geto’s eyes gleam with wicked delight as he pulls you upright, forcing you to face the camera head-on. he keeps a firm grip on your arms with one arm, holding you steady as he presses close behind you.

“there we go,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck possessively. “let them all see what a desperate little slut you are for me.” his free hand drifts down your body, fingers dancing teasingly across your slick folds.

you can feel the heat of his gaze on you through the screen, drinking in your debauched appearance— hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from biting back your cries. he licks a slow stripe up the column of your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat.

“you look so beautiful like this,” he murmured only for you to hear.

he holds you firmly in place, your back pressed against his chest as he keeps you positioned in front of the camera. your face is flushed, eyes glazed over with lust, and mouth hanging open in a silent scream— the perfect picture of a woman thoroughly ravaged by her dominant roommate.

“everyone, doesn’t she look adorable when she’s stuffed full of cock?” geto purrs into your ear, loud enough for the audiences to hear, his warm breath making you shiver. his free hand reaches around to cup your breast, kneading the soft flesh as he continues to fondle you for the audience’s viewing pleasure.

“tell them how much you love taking my cock, baby,” he commands, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “be a good girl and tell those perverts.”

he applies pressure to your nipple, twisting and tugging on them mercilessly, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

geto’s words send another wave of shame and arousal washing over you, your face burning hot as you realize just how exposed and vulnerable you are right now. the knowledge that hundreds, maybe thousands of people are watching you in this state— completely owned and used by your roommate— only heightens your desperation.

you whimper pathetically, unable to form coherent words as geto continues to torment your sensitive nipple. your whole body quakes with the effort of staying upright, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment.

“good. . . feel so good, your cock inside me,” you manage to stammer out, the word torn from your throat on a ragged breath. “i love... i love your cock...” tears spill down your cheeks as geto’s relentless stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge. the humiliation of being so exposed, so vulnerable, only serves to heighten your arousal.

“i... i l-love it,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “i love takin’ your cock, suguru. it feels so good inside me...”

as if to emphasize your point, your hips twitch involuntarily, seeking reconnection with the thick shaft still throbbing with need mere inches away. your hands come up to clutch at geto’s wrists, nails digging into his skin as you try to anchor yourself amidst the storm of sensation.

“p-please, sugu... i need... i need to cum...” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation.

geto chuckles darkly at your pitiful begging, clearly relishing the power he holds over you. “need to cum, huh? well, who am i to deny such a desperate plea from a dirty girl?”

he spins you around to face him, one hand gripping your chin as the other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body. his amber eyes bore into yours, glinting with sadistic intent.

“but first, i think it’s time for a little show.“ with that, he lifts you effortlessly back to his chair, spreading your thighs wide apart after planting you in his lap once again with your back against his hard, sweaty chest. the camera zooms in, capturing every intimate detail of your soaked, swollen sex.

geto sinks to the chair, one arm around your waist while the other letting the fingers dancing around your trembling thigh before kissing your cunt, spread the lips open, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “let’s give these pervs something to really jerk off to, shall we?” and that, everyone can see your cunt clenches, unclenches around nothing.

geto smirks as he reads through the barrage of comments flooding in, many of them praising his rough treatment of you and demanding more. he clicks on a few particularly enthusiastic ones, letting the crude messages wash over you.

geto lets out a low, appreciative hum, clearly enjoying the attention and validation from his online fans. his fingers continue their maddening exploration of your most sensitive areas, dipping and circling around your entrance without ever quite breaching you.

“oh my, looks like the chat is absolutely ravenous for more,” geto says with a smirk, leaning in close to the screen to glance at the flood of comments scrolling past. “it seems a lot of our viewers have very... specific requests for our little live show.”

his eyes flicker over the text, a devious smile growing wider on his face. “well, well, well. looks like someone wants to see me fuck your ass next,” he teases, giving your cheek a playful pinch. “how about that, baby? ready to let me split you open from both ends?”

the suggestion sends a jolt of trepidation mixed with forbidden excitement through your body. the thought of geto’s massive cock invading your most private, taboo hole is undeniably filthy—and terrifyingly arousing.

your stomach churns with a mix of dread and anticipation at the idea of geto claiming your virgin asshole. the thought alone is enough to make your pussy clench and gush, soaking his fingers as they tease your entrance. despite the terror, there’s an undeniable thrill building within you, a dark desire to surrender to his dominance and submit to whatever depraved acts he might demand.

“but..” you whimper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “sugu. . . i- never,” the words taste bitter on your tongue, but you can’t deny the hunger driving them. your body is already preparing itself for the brutal invasion, muscles fluttering and relaxing in anticipation.

geto’s fingers press harder against your rim, probing gently at the tight ring of muscle. a pink color spread underneath your skin, a bashfulness kissing your face, and your gaze darted from the camera.

geto laughs cruelly at your shy admission, clearly delighted by the prospect of being the first to claim such a naughty part of you. “never been touched back here, huh?” he muses, rubbing teasing circles around your clenched pucker. “well, i guess it’s lucky you’ve got me to pop your anal cherry then.”

the crowd in the chat goes wild at this revelation, dozens upon dozens of users flooding the screen with lewd encouragement and explicit demands. geto grins as he reads through some of the top replies aloud:

“someone wants me to stretch out your slutty little ass real good,” he drawls, applying pressure until the tip of his finger breaches your resistant ring. “make you scream for my cock.”

he works the digit deeper, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking knuckle-deep into your tight heat. he presses two fingers against your puckered hole, applying gentle yet insistent pressure. “but don’t worry, baby,” he coos, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “i’ll take good care of your tight little ass. just relax and trust me.”

geto glances up at the camera, a wicked gleam in his eye as he addresses the audience. “seems our girl here is a total anal virgin. can you believe it? she’s never had anything inside her pretty little ass.”

he gives your cheek a patronizing pat. “but don’t worry dirty girl, i’ll make sure to break you in nice and slow.” his lips leave a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder despite his filthy words and mean ministrations.

the sensation of geto’s fingers penetrating your untouched hole is overwhelming, sending waves of intense pleasure-pain coursing through your body. you bite your lip to stifle a moan, not wanting to encourage him further, but it’s no use— a strangled gasp escapes your throat as he pushes deeper, stretching you open inch by excruciating inch.

despite the discomfort, there’s an undeniable thrill building within you, a dark satisfaction in knowing you’re experiencing something so taboo and forbidden for the first time. geto’s words only add fuel to the fire, his taunts and promises of breaking you in igniting a hunger deep within your core.

“u-no, mmm,” you manage to choke out, shaking your head frantically even as your hips instinctively buck against his probing fingers. “please, sugu... i don’t know if i can...”

the sensation of geto’s fingers violating your untouched hole sends waves of discomfort and arousal coursing through your veins. each gentle prod and push stretches the tight ring of muscle, making your breath hitch and your body tremble. despite the pain, there’s an undeniable thrill building within you, a dark pleasure in submitting to his control and surrendering your most private parts to his use.

“a-anal...” you whimper, the word feeling foreign and dirty on your tongue.

your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment as you confess your inexperience to the world. the knowledge that hundreds of viewers are watching, vicariously experiencing your degradation, only heightens your mortification. and yet, there’s a twisted part of you that craves their approval, their lurid fascination with your defilement.

geto watches intently as you squirm and tremble beneath his touch, your reactions only spurring him on. he crooks his fingers slightly, searching for that sweet spot deep inside that will make you lose all control.

“shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he coos, his tone a soothing balm despite the brutality of his actions. “just breathe through it. you’re doing so well.”

as he speaks, geto begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your stretched hole, gradually picking up speed. the wet sounds of his penetration fill the room, mingling with your ragged breathing and the constant chatter of the live stream.

“look at that,” he purrs, addressing the camera once more. “our little anal virgin is taking it so well. she’s practically begging for more.”

geto’s fingers plunge deeper, curling to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. your body responds instinctively, clenching and unclenching around the invading digits as pleasure starts to override the initial discomfort.

“see how she’s trembling?” he continues, his voice low and husky with lust. “her tight little ass is loving every second of this. and just listen to those sweet noises she’s making...”

he leans in closer, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “i think our girl is starting to enjoy being claimed, don’t you?”

the camera zooms in on your flushed face, capturing every twitch and shudder as geto’s fingers work their magic. the live chat erupts with lewd comments and cheering, urging him on as he takes you further into the depths of anal pleasure.

your mind reels as geto’s fingers continue their relentless assault on your virgin hole, the sound of your own desperate whimpers filling the air. the pleasure is intense, bordering on painful, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him. somehow, the depravity of it all only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more even as your brain screams in protest.

“sugu’, please...” you beg, but the words lack conviction. your hips roll involuntarily, meeting each thrust of his fingers as they plunder your depths. the sensation of being filled, of having something finally breach the last barrier of your innocence, is overwhelming.

geto’s praise only fuels the fire within you, his words painting a vivid picture of your submission and the twisted desires it satisfies.

“such a needy little thing,” geto praises, continuing his relentless pace. his thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud as his fingers curl inside you. “begging for more, aren’t you? dirty girl.”

as if to emphasize his point, he slides a third finger into your clutching heat, stretching you even wider. the added girth has you crying out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you struggle to accommodate the intrusion.

“oh, look at that,” geto coos, his eyes locked on where your body meets his. “she’s trying so hard to take it all. such a good little anal slut for me.”

tears prick at the corners of your eyes as geto’s fingers stretch you to your limits, the burning ache in your rectum intensifying with each brutal thrust. your body feels like it’s being torn apart, the pleasure and pain blending into an all-consuming agony that leaves you breathless and helpless.

“oh, fuuck!” you sob, almost scream, your voice cracking with desperation. the humiliation of being called a ‘slut’ only adds to your shame, but the way geto says it, with such reverence and adoration, makes you feel powerful in a way you never have before.

your hips jerk wildly, trying to meet his punishing rhythm even as your muscles strain to contain the invasion. the pressure builds at the base of your spine, coiling tighter and tighter until you’re certain you’ll snap in two. your body is about to fall forward, overwhelmed with his fingers stuffed in your little hole, but geto quick enough to hug your body, enveloped in the warm and secure embrace of his.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you are good, pretty, sooo good,” he whispered a mantra in your ear, your ear only— thumb circling your stomach.

the live stream captures your writhing form, the sight of you lost in ecstasy sending the chat into a frenzy. viewers lavish praise upon you, some even placing bets on how long it’ll take before you reach your climax under geto’s skilled ministrations. but the man pulled his fingers out, ��take a deep breath and pray baby, you’ll need that,” he whispered, and without further ado, his angry tip kissing your anal sex.

geto pauses for a moment, allowing you to catch your breath and steel yourself for what comes next. he reaches over to the bedside table, retrieving a bottle of lube from the drawer. you watch wide-eyed as he coats his impressive length generously, the clear fluid glistening obscenely in the dim light.

“i know it hurts, babygirl, but i promise it’ll feel so much better soon,” geto reassures as he positions himself between your spread cheeks. the head of his cock nudges insistently at your fluttering entrance, slick with pre-cum and primed for penetration.

with agonizing slowness, he begins to push inside, the thick crown breaching your sphincter with a muffled groan from both parties involved. inch by excruciating inch, he sinks deeper into your resisting flesh, pausing occasionally to let you adjust to the enormous size stretching you open.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” geto groans, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. he holds still for a moment, allowing you to acclimate to the intrusion before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remains nestled between your cheeks. then, with a sharp snap of his hips, he plunges back in, setting a brutal pace that has you seeing stars.

the pain is indescribable, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. it borders on unbearable, your body screaming in protest as it’s invaded so ruthlessly.

your vision blurs as the pain overwhelms you, tears streaming freely down your face. it feels like you’re being split in half, impaled on geto’s massive cock as he pounds into you mercilessly. your body is no longer your own, reduced to a vessel for his pleasure as he uses you like a cheap fleshlight.

and yet, beneath the agony, there’s a flicker of something else— a dark, twisted desire that thrills through your veins like poison. the degradation, the humiliation, the utter debasement of it all... it sets your soul ablaze with a perverse sense of euphoria.

“oh my-my god!” you hear yourself cry out, your voice ragged and desperate.

geto grunts in approval, his movements becoming even more forceful as he senses your reluctant surrender. he leans over you, his chest pressed against your back as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily.

“that’s it, thereee, fucking good,” he growls, nipping at your skin. his hands roam your body, squeezing and kneading your breasts roughly before sliding down to grasp your thighs, pushing your legs flush to your side. he uses them to pull you onto his cock with each thrust, driving himself impossibly deep.

“look at this ass, stretched out so beautifully around my cock,” geto pants, his gaze fixated on where your body meets his. “what a-fuuck a beautiful girl.”

the sound of flesh smacking against flesh fills the room, punctuated by your choked moans and geto’s animalistic grunts. the chair creaks ominously beneath you, straining to contain the frenzied activity. through the screen, geto, perfectly clear can see your glistening cunt and his cock ball deep inside your anal, a white ring around the base. his fingers bent your skin, hands grasping the flesh underneath your knees.

overwhelmed by sensation, you can barely process the words spilling from geto’s lips. his praise, his hunger, his complete and utter domination of your body—it all swirls together into a dizzying cocktail of pleasure and pain that threatens to consume you whole.

your mind goes blank, focused solely on the relentless pounding of his cock and the searing heat of his breath on your skin. you’re nothing more than a receptacle for his lust now, a mere conduit for his pleasure as he fucks you with ruthless abandon.

“suguuuuu, harder,” you manage to gasp out, your voice barely coherent. the thought of getting caught, of being exposed to the world as geto’s willing plaything, only serves to heighten your arousal. your body starts to quake, the coil of tension within you winding tighter and tighter.

geto chuckles darkly, pleased by your desperate plea. he complies eagerly, slamming into you with renewed vigor. the chair scrapes loudly across the floor as he picks up speed, the wooden frame creaking ominously under the force of his thrusts.

“oh, you want it rough, huh?” geto sneers, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “you like being used like a dirty little slut, don’t you?”

he punctuates his words with particularly harsh jabs of his hips, the blunt head of his cock dragging mercilessly against your sensitive inner walls. you can feel every ridge and vein, every throbbing inch of him claiming you as his own.

“fucking hell, you’re so close, aren’t you?” geto growls, his hot breath fanning over your neck.

yes, yes! you wanted to cum. you wanted to lose yourself completely, to forget everything except the raw, unfiltered pleasure coursing through your veins. you wanted to be used, to be fucked hard and fast until you saw stars.

“fuckkk,” you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. “wanna cum, gonna cum.”

your body writhes beneath geto, a silent plea for release. your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, each one sharper and more intense than the last. the pleasure is overwhelming, bordering on pain.

the sheer depravity of the situation sends you hurtling towards the brink of ecstasy. the knowledge that hundreds of strangers are watching you degrade yourself, submitting so shamelessly to geto’s sadistic whims, pushes you over the edge.

as he senses your impending climax, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. he redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with reckless abandon, chasing that sweet release.

geto’s grip on your under knees tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he senses your impending climax. he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “cum for me, babygirl. let go and make a mess for all these perverts to enjoy.”

his words are the final trigger you need. with a keening wail, you shatter, your orgasm ripping through you with the force of a tsunami.

“do it, cum for me,” he commands, his voice low and gravelly with lust. “let go, babygirl. show these perverts how a real slut squirts.”

his filthy words send you careening over the precipice. your entire body seizes up, convulsing violently as a torrent of pleasure crashes over you. wave after wave of ecstasy rips through your core, your pussy clenching rhythmically around the thick shaft buried deep inside you.

geto groans in satisfaction, feeling your walls flutter and milk his cock. he continues to pound into you, riding out your orgasm with brutal intensity, prolonging your pleasure for his own twisted amusement.

your mind is a blank slate, consumed entirely by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. your orgasm seems to last an eternity, each pulse of pleasure more intense than the last.

“ahhh,” you moan helplessly, your voice a high-pitched whine of ecstasy. tears of bliss stream down your face as you tremble and shake, lost in the maelstrom of your own climax. a span of your juice spurting the air, wetting the screen and camera as you squirt.

geto’s filthy encouragement only adds fuel to the fire, his crude words igniting a dark, shameful thrill within you. the knowledge that you’re making a spectacle of yourself, that you’re performing for an audience of voyeurs, sends a fresh wave of arousal crashing over you.

your body is a live wire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. you can feel geto’s cock throbbing inside you, his own release imminent.

the sight of you coming undone so spectacularly, the feel of your pussy clamping down on him like a vice—it’s too much for geto to resist. with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and lets go.

“fuck, ’m cumming!“ he snarls, his hips stuttering erratically as he empties himself into your waiting hole. jet after jet of hot, thick seed floods your insides, painting your walls with his essence.

geto’s grip on your legs becomes almost bruising as he rides out his climax, his cock pulsing and twitching with each spurt. he grinds against you, ensuring every last drop is deposited deep within your battered ass.

geto stood tall, barely clothed, his still-hard cock in view, a smug sense of pride in his stance now that the camera was finally off. his gaze was fixed on his phone screen, scrolling through the latest comments from his audience with a small, satisfied smirk. a cigarette rested between his fingers, the faint glow casting shadows along his jawline.

meanwhile, you, now, lay sprawled out on his bed, a thin sheet draped over your still-trembling form as you tried to steady your breathing. the room was filled with the soft, lingering haze of smoke and the residual heat of the moment, your heart still racing as you attempted to regain your composure.

geto takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he reads through the deluge of comments flooding in. the praise and adoration from his fans never fails to boost his ego, and tonight was no exception.

he glances over at you, noticing your disheveled state and the way the sheet clings to your sweat-dampened skin. a wicked grin spreads across his face as he imagines the scene playing out in the minds of his viewers—the powerful, dominant man taking what he wants from a willing, if not desperate, partner.

getting bored with simply looking, geto sets his phone aside and saunters over to the bed. he looms over you, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“not bad for a first timer, eh?” he teases, his tone laced with now amusement.

you let out a soft, tired hum, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at him. “did i do a good job?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, laced with a hint of playful innocence despite the exhaustion in your eyes.

geto chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with mischief as he takes another drag from his cigarette. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he speaks.

“oh, you did more than just a good job, sweetheart,” he purrs, his voice low and sultry. “you were absolutely exquisite. those moans, those screams... they’re going to haunt my dreams for weeks.”

he reaches out, tracing the curve of your jaw with his free hand before tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. there’s a hunger in his expression, a primal desire that sends a shiver down your spine.

“and the best part? knowing that all those perverts out there are jerking off to the memory of watching me claim you, watching you fall apart so beautifully for me.”

geto takes another deep drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing bright orange in the semi-darkness of the room. he flicks his ash into a nearby tray, his gaze never leaving yours as he studies your expression.

“you have no idea what you look like right now, do you?” he continues, his tone rough and husky, the tone that never fails to make chills race across your skin. “a flushed, messy, trembling mess, all because of me. and i love every bit of it.”

geto takes one last drag from his cigarette, the ember at the end burning brightly, before stubbing it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. he settles down beside you, his cock stand tall and his body radiating heat as he moves closer, draping one arm casually around your shoulders.

“speaking of those perverts out there,” he says, his tone still low and sultry, “they’re already begging for more.”

he picks up his phone back, scrolling through the latest comments from his fans, his smirk widening with each new lewd comment he reads.

geto scrolls through the endless comments on his phone, snickering at some of the dirtier ones. his eyes glance over at you as he reads, a smug, almost wicked grin on his face.

“wow, they really liked what they saw tonight, didn’t they?” he comments, his tone thick with amusement. he scrolls down a bit more, the screen casting a faint glow over his features, illuminating his perfect face in the shadows.

“they can’t get enough of you. they’re pleading for more, begging for a repeat performance. and how could they not?"

he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through his usual dominance. the gentle press of his lips against your forehead felt like a reward, a sign of his approval that filled you with a sense of pride and contentment.

at his words, you managed to lift your head slightly to peek at the chat, taking in the sea of emojis and the occasional message praising your performance. a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs, you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of accomplishment. you had pleased geto, and by extension, his loyal fanbase.

“that was good” you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. geto chuckled darkly as he scrolled through the chat, picking out some of the juiciest comments to share with you. “well, for starters, @sexyslayer89 says, ‘best fuck session ever! that dirty talk had me rock hard.’ and @cumhungrycutie remarks, ‘i wish i could squirt that much. so damn sexy.’”

he paused to smirk at you, clearly enjoying your blush at the explicit praise. “oh, and @suguruslut wants to know when you’ll be available for a threesome. apparently, she and her girlfriend are huge fans of yours.”

geto’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued reading aloud. “and this one’s my personal favorite: ‘@dickdrain3000 claims you’re the best cocksleeve he’s ever seen. he’s already planning his next visit.’”

taking a moment to scroll through the endless messages, geto chuckled, finding the right ones to read aloud. “look at this one— ‚best camgirl debut ever! she’s a natural.’ and here, ‘she’s got talent!’ they’re loving this, aren’t they?” he teased, flashing you a smirk before turning his attention back to the device in his hand.

“wow, looks like everyone loved seeing you take my cock like a champ,” geto said with a smirk, scrolling through the chat. “one user says, ‘damn, she took that dick so well! can’t wait to see more of her.’ another one says, ‘best stream ever, suguru! please have her come back soon!’”

he glanced at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “seems like you’ve got quite the fanbase now too. maybe we should make this a regular thing, hmm?”

geto set his phone aside and leaned in closer, his hand trailing teasingly along your side. “of course, we’d have to practice a lot more to keep our viewers satisfied. think you’re up for the challenge?”

you let out a soft moan as geto’s fingertips traced patterns along your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. the idea of becoming a regular feature in geto’s streams, of having an entire fanbase eagerly awaiting your next appearance, sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

“mmm, i think Iicould get used to this,” you purred, arching into his touch. “practicing with you doesn’t seem like a chore at all.”

your eyes fluttered closed as geto’s hand drifted lower, skimming over your hip and coming to rest possessively on your thigh. the heat of his palm seeped into your skin, reigniting the embers of desire that had been smoldering since your explosive climax.

you look at his eyes before chuckling, “but you wish,” you mutter, giving his lips a peck before standing up. you take the rob that pools on the floor before slipping through the silk material.

geto watched you with darkened eyes as you stood up, the silk robe slipping over your naked body, the fabric caressing your curves in a way that made his mouth water. he couldn’t help but let out a deep, wanting moan, his eyes raking over your form as he leaned back against the headboard.

“you know, you look even more stunning in that robe,” he remarks, his voice a low rumble. “like a delicious little present, all wrapped up and ready for me to unwrap.”

he rises to his feet, towering over you with an air of confident dominance. his hands settle on your hips, fingers digging in gently as he pulls you flush against him.

his hands slide down to cup your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he grinds his hips against yours. you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach, hot and still hard and ready.

“hey,” he called out, his voice rough with annoyance, “where are you going?” he asks, his tone suggestive, his hot breath fanning over your face.

his hands squeeze a bit tighter, making it clear that he doesn’t intend to let you leave so easily. he leans down, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your shoulder.

“you know, you’re not getting very far,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice taking on a possessive edge. “especially not when you look like that, all wrapped up in my robe, smelling like me and looking absolutely delectable.”

you let out a soft, contented hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he continued to trail kisses along your skin. “i’m tired, you know,” you murmured, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his back. despite the exhaustion weighing on you, his possessive tone and the warmth radiating from him made it hard to resist.

nestling closer, you tilted your head to rest against his, savoring the comfort of his embrace. “you wore me out,” you added with a faint smile, giving in to the way his presence made you feel so anchored, so thoroughly his.

geto chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and reverberating against yours. he pulled you impossibly closer, his arms encircling you possessively.

“yeah, i know i did,” he replied, his voice taking on a proud, cocky edge. “but you were just too good to resist, weren’t you, baby?”

his fingers brushed against your cheek, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. he leaned in to nuzzle against your neck once more, his lips skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of hot, damp kisses down to your pulse point.

geto’s lips curved into a crooked smile, his chest rumbling with a low, satisfied chuckle. he pulled you a bit closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you— hard cock pressed against your stomach, holding you snugly against his firm, toned body.

“i’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart,” he murmured into your hair, his voice taking on a cocky, self-assured tone. “i did work you pretty hard, didn’t i?” he chuckles, his hand trailing down your spine, fingers dancing over your skin.

you rolled your eyes with a soft hum, cupping his cheek as he continued nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing warm against your skin. “you act like you’re my boyfriend,” you murmured, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

geto chuckled at your remark, the sound deep and amused. he lifted his head to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

”oh, do i?” he teased, arching a brow at you in mock surprise. “is that what i’m acting like, huh? a doting, sappy boyfriend?”

he leaned in closer, pressing his mouth against your neck, again, his lips brushing against your pulse point as he nipped playfully. “guess i can’t help it, sweetheart. you bring out the boyfriend material in me.”

you let out an exaggerated tch, rolling your eyes as you gave him a playful shove. “ugh, you’re so cringe,” you muttered, a smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. slipping out of his hold, you turned to make a break for the door, feigning an attempt to escape the teasing.

but before you could take another step, you felt his hand catch your wrist, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you firmly against his chest.

geto laughed, a deep, hearty rumble, as you tried to escape his grasp. he wrapped an arm around your waist, effectively trapping you against his muscular frame. his other hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

his eyes glittered with a mix of mischief and something deeper, something darker and more primal.

“oh no, you’re not going anywhere,” he murmured with a grin, his arms locking around you as he leaned down, voice low and teasing. “besides, i haven’t even gotten to the sappy part yet.”

his arm tightened around you, pressing you firmly against him, the expanse of his chest against your back. his lips grazed your ear, his voice low and sultry. “you said i was acting like a boyfriend, sweetheart. aren’t you going to let me show you how good of a boyfriend i can be?”

geto’s hand slowly crept down to your hip, pulling your body flush against his. he let his hands roam, tracing down your body with a possessive, greedy touch, as if he was determined to map out every inch of you with his fingertips.

as his lips brushed against your ear, he continued, his voice dropping even lower as he teased you.

“see, sweetheart, i was planning on whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how cute and irresistible you are.” his teeth grazed your earlobe before he moved downward, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck.

his hands roamed over your body, tracing patterns on the exposed skin of your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “but you had to go and try to escape, didn’t you?”

you let out a soft hum, leaning into his touch for a moment before slowly turning around in his arms, pressing your back against his chest. feeling his warmth behind you, you took a step forward, guiding him toward the door while he still held onto you, refusing to let go.

“oh, i wouldn’t dream of escaping now,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder with a sly smile. each step you took brought you both closer to the doorway, his arms wrapped securely around you, following your lead as if he couldn’t bear to let you slip away. “just seeing if you’d keep up,” you murmured, daring him to match you stride for stride.

the feeling of your body against his chest sent a ripple of electricity through geto, stirring something primal and dominant within him. he tightened his arms, drawing you closer against him as you led him toward the doorway.

“little tease,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck with a smirk. “you know i wouldn’t dream of letting you go. not after tonight.”

he willingly followed your lead, his muscular frame pressing against your back as he allowed you to guide him. his hands continued to explore your body, mapping out every curve and contour, as if he could never get enough.

you let out a playful groan, feigning annoyance at the grown man practically glued to your back. “ugh, you’re so annoying,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you reached for his bedroom door. with a little smirk, you stepped into the family room, feeling his weight still pressing against you.

“you really are acting like a boyfriend right now, you know that?” you teased, glancing back at him as he kept his arms wrapped around you, a mischievous spark in his eyes. though you tried to sound exasperated, there was no hiding the warmth in your voice, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as he held you close.

before geto could even get a word out, a familiar voice cut through the room. “wow, suguru, you couldn’t even bother to put on pants after your little... steamy session?”

both you and geto whipped your heads toward the source of the voice, only to see gojo standing there, an all-too-satisfied grin plastered on his face, phone in hand. he tilted the screen just enough for you both to catch a glimpse—it was a page open to geto’s live stream from earlier, replaying a snapshot of the two of you caught in the act— of course, he watched the streaming.

a flush crept up your cheeks as you turned to geto, whose expression had shifted from smug confidence to stunned surprise. gojo let out a low chuckle, clearly amused at having caught the two of you. “and here i thought i’d just come over to borrow some sugar,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as he held up the phone for emphasis. “but it seems like i’ve stumbled onto... way more than i bargained for,” he trails off, looking down to geto’s still-hard cock in view.

gojo, geto’s best friend, was no stranger to you. he practically lived at the apartment, often popping in even when geto wasn’t home, as if he had his own invisible key. he had a habit of making himself comfortable—raiding the fridge, stretching out on the couch, or pestering you with his endless teasing whenever he saw you.

now, he stood there with that infuriatingly smug grin, clearly enjoying the way he’d caught you both off-guard. he raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and geto, clearly savoring every second of your embarrassment.

geto only hummed, unfazed, as he resumed pressing lazy kisses along your neck, his lips warm against your skin, completely ignoring gojo’s presence. he knew all too well that gojo watched his streams—and this wasn’t the first time his best friend had conveniently found a reason to drop by. after all, gojo didn’t even live in the same building, and borrowing sugar was the last thing he’d come for.

“figured you’d show up sooner or later, satoru,” geto drawled between kisses, his tone amused and unbothered, hands still holding you close. “couldn’t resist seeing her up close, could you?”

gojo smirked, stepping closer. “guess i wanted to see if it was just as good in person,” he quipped, eyes flicking between the two of you, clearly entertained by the situation.

gojo’s smirk deepened as he observed the scene before him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. it was no surprise to find geto and you in a compromising position—he knew his friend all too well.

he approached, his casual gait exuding arrogance as he drew closer. geto, ever unbothered, continued to press his lips to your skin, his hands still holding you possessively, completely unruffled by his best friend’s presence.

“well,” gojo said with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “looks like i picked the right time to pop in.”

geto only hummed in response, his kisses still lingering on your neck, his tone aloof and cocky. “yeah, go figure,” he replied, not even bothering to look up. “always had a knack for perfect timing, don’t you?”

gojo chuckled again, his eyes roaming over the sight of you, half-naked and pressed up against geto’s bare chest, the silk robe doing little to hide the evidence of your earlier activities.

geto pulled back slightly, his arm still snug around your waist, fingers splayed possessively on your hip. he looked at gojo with a knowing smirk, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

“bet you enjoyed the show, didn’t you?” he teased, voice low and taunting as he raised an eyebrow at gojo.

gojo shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “what can i say?” he replied, a playful tone in his voice. “it was damn entertaining. gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he met geto’s gaze. “can’t help but appreciate a good performance, especially when it’s got the star of your stream in it.”

he took another step closer, his eyes flickering over your form, taking in every inch with a devilish grin. “and she didn’t disappoint, that’s for damn sure.”

his talk figures just a beat, loam over you, looking down with dangerous glint, eyes sparkling like a blue flame before his eyes drifting down over your form, lingering on the silk robe that did little to conceal the marks on your skin.

“i gotta say,” he added, shifting his gaze to geto, a hint of tease in his voice. “you really did a number on her, didn’t you, man?”

geto’s chuckle was low and satisfied, a hint of pride in the sound as his fingers flexed against your hip, feeling the soft silk under his touch. his gaze drifted down to you, lingering on the marks he’d left—a visual reminder of just how completely you’d been his. a cocky grin played at his lips as he spoke.

“yeah, i did,” he confirmed, his tone dripping with self-assurance. he met gojo’s gaze, a smirk quirking at the corners of his mouth. “hard not to with a doll like this, you know?”

he gave your ass a gentle squeeze after gentle smack, his gaze sweeping over you with open admiration before flicking back to gojo. “can’t blame me.”

his arm around your waist tightened slightly, his hand possessively gripping your hip, as if he was silently staking his claim over you.

goto’s gaze drifts behind, down your form, taking in the way the silk of the robe clings to your skin, revealing more than it conceals, lift the edge of the robe to show your pretty ass to the cold air. his eyes settle on the marks and bruises that litter your body, evidence of his own rough possession and passion.

he spread the cheeks just a little before his fingers finding its way to your puckering hole, now a bit loose from the earlier physical contact. the ministration earning a moan from you, without thinking, having you clutch to gojo’s shirt and geto’s arm.

you are whimpering, whining a complaint, still too sensitive from his rough intimacy. but geto just smirk, eyes finding gojo’s, “a little loose to save thousand,” he said.

#suki ☆ #geto x reader #geto smut #geto #geto x y/n #geto x you #anime smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru

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pathologicalreid · 7 months ago

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gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

part two

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hoshifighting · 4 months ago

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Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

Synospsis: Racer!Mingyu, the new kid, is determined to beat you in the college underground race. Does he have the guts to defeat you, his senior, the reigning queen of the racing scene? Before the race starts, a photo of your boyfriend cheating on you is spread to the students. When you look up from your phone, there's Mingyu with his piercing eyes. [...]

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” Mingyu teased, leaning against the doorframe.

WC: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, illegal racing, rumors, smut, angst, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), squirt, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, body fluids (cum), kinda of rage make out?, chocking, spanking, dirty talk, sex pic and etc.

Mingyu. A name that had once been just a murmur in the shadows of the racing world is now on everyone's lips. This new kid, this prodigy, decided to go against the grain, to take on the best and make a name for himself.

And somehow, you're the one he's set his sights on. The competition is obvious, like the electricity in the air before a storm, and the entire college is buzzed with bets. It's impossible to ignore the excitement at the thought of the race tonight. It's been too long since you've felt this alive.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline is already in your nose, a scent that brings back a flood of memories. The first time you felt the wind rush past you on two wheels, the rush of adrenaline when you crossed the finish line ahead of the pack.

The races had been your escape, your way to prove to the world that you were more than just another face in the crowd.

And now, as you lace up your boots and slip into your worn-in leather jacket, you know that this race will be different. It's not just about the thrill anymore. It's about pride, about maintaining your title, about showing Mingyu that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The stakes are higher than ever before. You can feel it in the way Mark's eyes darken every time he looks at you, in the way he clenches his fists when Mingyu's name is mentioned.

As you swing your leg over your bike and rev the engine, you push those thoughts aside. Tonight, there's only one thing that matters: the race, the roar of the engines, and the taste of victory.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle inside his helmet, the gleaming visor reflecting the neon lights of the college parking lot that's been transformed into a makeshift race track. He's young, fearless, and he's got something to prove.

You've watched him from afar, studied his technique, his daring moves that have earned him the title of 'the rookie to watch'. He's good, really good, but he's never raced against someone like you. You're the old war-horse in this game, a veteran who's seen it all and done it all.

And now, the moment has arrived.

The girl in the quadriculed flag raises it high, her arm muscles taut with excitement. You and Mingyu lock eyes for a brief second, a silent promise of a fierce battle to come. And then, with a nod from her, you both speed off into the night. Your bike responds to your touch like a well-trained steed, the engine purring as you lean into the first turn.

But this is your turf, and you're not about to let some newcomer take your crown without a fight.

As the race extends, the wind whips through your hair, and the roar of the engines fills your ears. The world around you is a blur of lights and shadows, the only thing clear being the track ahead and the figure of Mingyu on your tail.

You push harder, feeling the bike protest under your command, but she holds steady. You're the lead, with Mingyu playing the role of the eager suitor, eager to overtake. You can't help but smile beneath your helmet. It's been so long since someone's made you feel this alive. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.

As you cross the finish line, you pull a dramatic wheelie, the tires screeching and smoking against the asphalt. You circle around, revving the engine, feeling the power beneath you, and as you come to a stop, Mingyu pulls up beside you.

You both remove your helmets, and the chilly night air kisses your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes are on you, focused and intense, drinking in the sight of you. Your hair is a wild mess around your face, the wind from the race playing with it like it's alive.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your pants hugging your thighs tightly. You stand there, arms crossed over your chest, looking at him. He's tall, with a muscular build that's clear even through his bulky racing gear. His face is a mask of determination, and there's something about the way he carries himself that makes you want to knock him down a peg.

"So, what's your name, kid?" you ask, your voice carrying over the din of the engines.

Mingyu's face cracks into a smirk, and he extends his hand towards you. "Mingyu. Kim Mingyu," he says, his voice deep and sure. But you don't take the bait. You keep your arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

His smirk falters a little when you ignore his outstretched hand, and he slowly lowers it.

The crowd around you goes quiet, watching this silent exchange like it's a scene from a movie. They know the history, the tension, and the unspoken challenge that's just been laid down.

"Well, you must know me," you say, the leather jacket creaks as you tighten your grip.

"I know of you," he says, his language tinged with a hint of an accent. "But I'm not here to bow down to reputations. I'm here to make my own." You can't help but respect that.

The crowd around you is hushed, waiting for the next move. Mark is there, his eyes on you, a silent question in his gaze. You give him a nod, reassuring him that you're okay, that you're in control.

The rivalry between you and Mingyu has only just started, and it's going to be one hell of a race.

Mark storms over, eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell are you two talking about for so long?" His voice cuts through the cheers of the crowd, drawing their attention. You feel the tension between him and Mingyu, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

Mingyu just watches him with that sly grin, clearly enjoying the show. His gaze flickers over you, lingering on your leather pants, and you feel a shiver of annoyance and something else you can't quite name.

"Hey, Mark," you say, trying to keep your tone light, but there's an edge to it. "Calm down. We were just talking."

"Talking? That's what you're calling it?" Mark's voice is loud, drawing even more eyes to your little drama. He turns to Mingyu, his face red. "And what are you looking at?"

You roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Mark, walk."

He stares at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah, walk," you repeat, your voice firm. "Just go cool off."

For a moment, it looks like he might argue, but then he glances at Mingyu, who’s still smirking, clearly enjoying the spectacle. With a huff, Mark turns on his heel and stalks off, the crowd parting to let him through.

Mingyu chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. "What an obedient boyfriend you have."

You shoot him a look, half warning, half curiosity. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He raises his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. "Just calling it like I see it. But seriously," his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," you say, the word coming out more curt than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from Mark's outburst. "So, why did you want to race me, really?"

Mingyu’s expression becomes thoughtful, the cocky façade slipping just a little. "Because I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And now, I know they are."

You can't help but smile at that, feeling a rush of pride. "Well, you gave me a good run for my money."

"Next time," he says, his voice low and filled with promise, "I'll be the one crossing the finish line first."

"We'll see about that," you reply, walking out with your motorcycle by your side, glancing at him over your shoulder.

[...]

Mingyu, the new kid, had something different, something that pushed your limits in a way no other rival had before. It was exhilarating, but also stressful. And your boyfriend’s incessant comments about Mingyu didn’t help.

Every time he brought up how Mingyu looked at you, how rude he was, how he thought he was the most incredible thing, you rolled your eyes. Mark’s jealousy was nothing new, but you’d never seen him so uncomfortable around someone before.

For the past month, you’d heard from other students that Mingyu had been spreading rumors about how he was going to win this race, no matter what. It was irritating, but also a challenge you couldn’t ignore.

As you were heading to your P.E. class, you saw Mingyu and his friend walking down the hallway. He spotted you immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

"Look who's here, Y/N... without the leather jacket?" His eyes roved over your tight gymnastic clothing, clearly enjoying the sight.

You smiled around the scrunchie you held between your teeth as you tidied up your hair, then pulled it free to tie it up. "Look who’s here, Mingyu... still talking big?" you teased back, not missing a beat.

He laughed, a rich sound that echoed down the hall. "Only because I’ve got the skills to back it up."

"Oh, really?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "All I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk."

"Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention," he replied, leaning casually against the lockers. "I’ll make sure to give you a front-row seat next time."

You finished tying your hair and gave him a mock look of concern. "I’d hate to see you disappoint all those fans you’ve been bragging to."

He smirked, undeterred. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You might want to start thinking about a new title because that crown is coming my way."

"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet," you shot back, stepping closer, your confidence unwavering.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes held yours for a moment longer, the air between you crackling with tension.

Mingyu doesn't look the least bit afraid of you, of your reputation, of what you can do on this track. He's bold, maybe even a little cocky, and you can't decide if you like it or if it just makes you want to wipe that smug look off his face.

You've always been the one everyone looks up to, the one they whisper about in the halls. But now, there's someone new, someone who doesn't seem to know his place. And that's what makes him so intriguing.

You know Mingyu will be back, and he'll be better next time. And you can tell your boyfriend, Mark, is not happy about this new rivalry一about the way Mingyu makes you feel alive again.

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds, Y/N," Mark says as you look to the ceiling, "This isn't just a game anymore."

You pull back, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mingyu," he says, his voice tight with anger, "he's different. He's not like the others."

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off. "He's just a freshman with a fast bike," you say.

"He's been watching you," Mark says, his eyes searching yours, "studying you. He's got a vendetta, and I don't like it."

You swallow hard, pushing the thought away. You can't let Mingyu get under your skin like this. "I've got this," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Mark's not convinced. He's noticed the way your mind has been elsewhere, the way you've been pushing him away. The way you've been turning down his advances, lost in thought about the new kid on the block. He's been frustrated for a few weeks, trying to get you to focus on anything other than the race.

As the days pass, the tension between you and Mark grows thicker. He tries to initiate sex, but your mind is always elsewhere, replaying the race, thinking about Mingyu's next move. You know you're hurting him, but you can't seem to stop.

The thought of Mingyu, of the way he looked at you, of the way he talked about winning, it's like a drug. And you're hooked.

The next day, you're in the garage, wrench in hand, making some final adjustments to your bike. You've always been meticulous, but with Mingyu on your mind, you're even more so. You can't have anything going wrong on your bike when you face him again.

The door to the garage opens, and you look up, expecting it to be Mark, but instead, it's Mingyu. He struts in, his leather jacket and bike helmet hanging casually from his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I see you're still playing with your toy."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want?" you ask, not looking up from your work.

"Just thought I'd come by and say congrats," he says, leaning against the workbench. "You put on a good show last night."

You raced a senior from your class last night. You won despite the slippery concrete caused by the rain. Again.

You slam the wrench down, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval," you reply, your voice icy.

Mingyu laughs, a sound that grates on your nerves. "You don't have to be so defensive," he says, his eyes scanning the garage, "I just wanted to talk shop, maybe pick up some tips from the queen herself."

You stand up, wiping your hands on your greasy rag. "What makes you think I'd share anything with you?"

He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Call it a peace offering," he says, holding out his hand. "Truce?"

You stare at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. You know you need to keep your enemies closer, especially one as talented as Mingyu. You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Fine," you say, "but don't get any ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I'll save them for the track."

You can't help but laugh, despite yourself. He's got nerve, you'll give him that. You spend the next hour talking bikes and racing strategies, and for the first time since the race, you feel like you're not just a competitor but a fellow enthusiast. It's strange.

As Mingyu leaves, you can't help but feel a blend of emotions. There's the excitement of the challenge he represents, the thrill of the rivalry that's been ignited. But there's also a nagging doubt, a fear that maybe Mark is right.

Maybe Mingyu isn't just a racer looking to make a name for himself. Maybe he's got something more planned, something that could threaten not just your title but your relationship.

You shake the thought off, telling yourself you're just being paranoid. After all, it's just a race, right?

[...]

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the makeshift circuit that’s been built for tonight's race. You take a long sip of your Gatorade, savoring the cool taste as you mentally prepare yourself for the competition. The grandstand is buzzing with energy, students excitedly chattering about the upcoming event.

As you sit there, focusing on your breathing, Mingyu appears and casually sits down next to you. You chuckle, unable to help yourself. "Are you following me, kid?"

He rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture by now. "I’m not a kid."

"But I’m your senior," you counter, grinning at the way his face sours. He’s always so easy to tease. "What did you plan?"

"Huh?" He seems genuinely confused, his attention now fully on you.

You smirk, leaning back a bit. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mingyu? Some oil on the floor, a pin in my tire...?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I don’t need tricks to beat you."

"Good," you say, your voice dropping slightly, more serious now. "Because neither do I."

Before the conversation can go any further, your boyfriend, Mark, appears. "What’s he doing here?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"Just talking," you reply, trying to keep your cool.

"Talking, huh?" Mark scoffs. "Seems like he’s always around, doesn’t it? You’d think he’s got nothing better to do."

"I think you’re overreacting." You breath tired.

Mark's eyes narrow. "Just remember who’s waiting for you at the finish line."

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at this, his posture stiffening. He looks like he’s holding back something, a secret or a truth he’s not ready to share.

You glance at Mingyu, noticing the shift in his conduct. "What’s that look for?" you ask him, curious despite yourself.

He shakes his head, the tension in his body evident. "Nothing. Just focus on the race."

You button your jacket, feeling the familiar weight of the leather settle around your shoulders. Checking your shoelaces, you make sure they’re tight, ready for the race ahead. The buzz of your phone breaks the moment, a single notification lighting up the screen. You glance around, noticing other students doing the same, pulling their phones from their pockets.

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

The feeling in your gut is like a rock, weighing you down, making it harder to breathe. You glance around, noticing the smirks and knowing looks from the other racers, the whispers that seem to carry on the wind.

You click on it, and your heart sinks like a stone. It's a picture of Mark, your Mark, kissing a girl. A girl with auburn hair and a laugh that's nothing like yours. And he's wearing the shirt you gave him just this week, the one with the funny racing pun on the back. The same shirt he wore to bed last night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You stand there, frozen, as the world carries on around you. The cheers of the crowd, the roar of the bikes—it’s all just background noise now. You look up and see everyone watching you, their expressions a combination of pity and shock. They all know now. They've all seen it.

And as your eyes meet Mingyu's, you realize that he knows too. There's something in his gaze, a glint of satisfaction that makes your blood boil. Did he do this? Did he send this to you? The thought is like a knife twisting in your gut, but you can’t be sure.

With trembling hands, you slip the phone back into your pocket, trying to compose yourself. You don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. But as you button your jacket and tighten the laces of your boots, you can’t help but feel like you’re tying up the loose ends of your life.

Everything’s changed in the span of a single message. Your heart is racing, but it’s not from the thrill of the chase anymore. It stems from the agony of disloyalty and the rage at being played for a fool.

And as you turn to face Mark, who’s pushing his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for yours, you know that the real race has only just begun.

Your breath comes in shudders as you hop on your bike, putting on your helmet. You’ve give all the signs that you are going to race tonight. The crowd is abuzz with anticipation, their eyes locked on you.

You roll the bike's accelerator, the roar calling for attention so the race can start. The flag girl gulps, her nervousness evident, and you look over your shoulder to see Mingyu approaching.

The girl stretches the flag, and you brace yourself. The lights go out, and suddenly, you're off, the wind in your hair, the roar of the engines filling your ears. Mingyu is right beside you. You can feel the bike responding to your every move, the tires gripping the asphalt like a vice.

Inside your helmet, your breathing is loud and ragged, a stark reminder of the adrenaline and anger coursing through you.

As you race, your thoughts race too. Mingyu planned everything. He sat by your side to watch you unravel from Mark's jealous crisis, and then those messages minutes before the race start—meant to destabilize you. It’s like a puzzle clicking into place, each piece revealing the depth of his strategy.

The bike protests but holds steady as you apply more pressure. The track is a blur, but your focus is razor-sharp. Mingyu is still there, matching your speed, but you’re not going to let him win.

You replay the moment when you first saw the message, the image of Mark kissing another girl. It stings, but it also sets you aflame. How dare he think he can break you? How dare he underestimate you? You’re not just racing against Mingyu; you’re racing against the doubts and whispers.

Mingyu pulls ahead slightly, his bike edging past yours. You grit your teeth, leaning forward to reduce drag, pushing your bike to its limits. The sound of the engines is loud, the wind whipping past you.

You glance at Mingyu. He thinks he won, that his plan worked. But he doesn’t know you.

You see the final stretch approaching, the finish line within sight. You dig deep, finding that last reserve of strength. You and Mingyu are neck and neck, the crowd’s cheers blending into a single roar. The world narrows to just this moment, just this race.

As you cross the finish line, you throw all your weight into one last burst of speed. You cross the line a split second before Mingyu, the crowd exploding into cheers.

You slow down, the realization of your win sinking in. You did it. Despite everything, you did it. But still, there is no taste of victory in your mouth.

The cheers fade as you lean forward, gripping the handlebars, and ride your bike away from the circuit, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. The streets blur past you, seeking an escape from everything. Your dorm or campus are the last place you want to be tonight.

After what feels like hours, you spot a cheap motel by the roadside. Its flickering neon sign is a welcome sight, a promise of anonymity, and a place to rest. You pull in, park your bike and walk to the reception. The clerk barely looks up as you hand over cash for the night. Key in hand, you head to your room.

The room is small and poorly illuminated, but it’s a refuge from the chaos of the night. You lay on the bed, the springs creaking under you, and pull out your phone. The screen is still lit with notifications, but you don’t want to see any of them. Whether it was Mingyu or someone else who shared those photos, you don’t care. Not tonight.

[...]

The weekend drags by, each minute feeling like an eternity. You don’t go to class, don’t leave your dorm except to grab food from the vending machine, because, you can’t face the pity in your friends’ eyes.

You clean obsessively, organizing your bookshelf, scrubbing the floors, folding clothes into neat piles. It’s a futile attempt to regain some semblance of order in your life. It feels like you’re erasing him from your life, one item at a time.

The notifications on your phone keep popping up, your friends and classmates checking in, asking if you’re okay. You manage to reply with short, curt responses. "Yeah," you type, "Just need some space." The lie feels heavy on your fingertips, but it’s easier than explaining the tornado of emotions inside you.

As the day stretches on, you start to feel a little more in control. You’re not going to let this beat you. You’re not going to let Mark or Mingyu ruin what you’ve built.

So you sit there, in the quiet of your room, and you start to plan. You’re going to show up to class, to the next race, with your head held high. You’re going to leave the drama behind and focus on what you do best—race.

On Thursday, you walk into class, a box in your arms. The whispers start as soon as you enter the room, the eyes are on you like a spotlight. You find Mark’s usual seat and drop the box in front of it, the thud echoing in the stunned silence.

The box, with his things.

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t need to. You turn and walk out, leaving the whispers and the weight of his backstabbing behind.

At lunch, you sit with your friends, the same table you’ve shared since freshman year. They all look at you, their eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" one of them asks, tentatively.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. "Yeah," you say, your voice stronger than you feel, "I just needed some time to sort things out."

They all nod, understanding without needing the details. They know the score, they know what happened at the race. They know about the picture, the rumors, the cheating.

"You've cried enough," your best friend says, her voice firm but gentle, "It's like that bruise on your knee from when you were seven. It hurt like hell, but it's healing now."

You manage a small smile at the memory. It’s true. You’ve shed enough tears over Mark to fill an ocean. But here you are, breathing, standing, moving forward.

"Let’s talk about something else," you say, changing the subject. "What's new with all of you?"

They exchange glances, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in tone, but they follow your lead. They talk about their classes, their weekends, their plans for spring break. You listen, really listen, letting their words wash over you like a balm to your soul.

"Oh, and apparently none of Mark’s friends want to talk to him," someone says, almost as an afterthought. "They had no idea."

"Good," you say. "He’s not worth their time either."

Your friends nod, respecting your wishes to not delve into the drama further. You don’t need their pity or their empathy. You just need them to be there, to be the rock that grounds you.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you all stand up, collecting your trash. "Thanks, guys," you say, your voice genuine.

"For what?" one of them asks.

"For not treating me like I’m made of glass." you reply, smiling.

They laugh, you know they’re worried, but you also know they trust you to handle this. You’re the same person you were before the race. You’re strong.

The sadness has morphed into something else, anger simmers just under the surface, a slow burn that’s been building since that message. You’re not just mad at Mark, but at Mingyu too. You don’t know his role in this, but you can feel his influence, the way he’s been poking and prodding, trying to get under your skin.

And now, it’s like a game of chess, and you’re the pawn in the middle of the board. You can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing you from the start. If all those smirks and smug looks were just part of his plan to take you down.

The bell rings, and you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You turn, ready to snap, and find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, don’t be grumpy. Running away from me, princess?” he says, a sulky look on his face.

You remember avoiding both Mingyu and Mark all day, doing everything to keep your distance. You start to leave, but he holds onto your arm again, making you huff in frustration.

“You should thank me, don’t you think?” he says, his tone teasing.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu smirks. “First, I let you win last Saturday,” he says, lying through his teeth. You remember how he was right on your tail during the race, clearly giving it his all.

“And I got you rid of that asshole,” he adds.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. “So, you’re admitting you orchestrated this whole thing, huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I warned him it would happen.”

“He knew?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly, like he’s stating the obvious. “Of course he knew. Y/N, he was cheating on you for a whole semester. At the first freshman party I went to, I saw him with Sayla. She’s from my class.”

“What?” you nearly shout, drawing the attention of nearby students. Mingyu gives you an exasperated look, like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and drag him around campus, heading for the grandstand where you can talk in private. Once there, you turn to him, your eyes blazing with anger.

“I saw the photo, and I know it’s real. But Mingyu, if you’re lying about this, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Why would I lie to you? If I need to tell you something, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Tell me from the beginning,” you demand, crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes but starts talking. “Well, it was my first party here, a freshman party. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there they were, making out.”

You make a disgusted face, which seems to amuse him. “But in the photo, they weren’t in a bathroom,” you point out.

“Yeah, it happened plenty of times. When I found out he was your boyfriend, I went to a frat party and took that photo,” Mingyu explains.

“That one?” you ask, referring to the incriminating photo.

Mingyu nods. “Yeah, that one. He saw the photo and came to have it out with me. I might have told him that if he didn’t tell you, I would, and that I would love to take care of his girlfriend.”

You scoff. “So that’s why he was so sick-jealous of me?”

Mingyu closes his eyes and nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You curse under your breath, feeling the weight of betrayal all over again. “This motherf—”

You stop, looking at Mingyu, who’s watching you with a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘take care of his girlfriend’?”

Mingyu smirks. “I was interested in you. But when I found out you were dating, I backed off. When I saw your boyfriend slacking, I needed to make it clear to Mark that I was going to reach out to you somehow.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the audacity of it all making your blood boil. “So, you’ve been planning this from the start?”

“Not exactly,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “But I saw an opportunity and took it. Your boyfriend was a dick, and you deserve better.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re better?”

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Mingyu steps closer, his gaze intense. “You’re fierce, competitive, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re exactly the kind of challenge I like.”

You roll your eyes, though a small part of you is flattered? “You’re still an asshole.”

He grins. “Maybe, but at least I’m honest about it. Can’t say the same for Mark.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Mingyu, just stay out of my way. I don’t need any more complications.”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” He shrugs before leaving, again, with that stupid smirk on his face.

[...]

You were dragged by your friends to every party on campus, parties you didn’t even know existed, every day a new one. According to them, you needed to enjoy your new ‘single’ life. And with all the guys on campus now aware that you were single, your DMs were flooded.

Tonight was one of those nights. Everyone saw you parking your motorcycle in front of the frat house, the rumble announcing your arrival. You danced with your friends, met new people, but your happiness didn’t last long.

You caught a glimpse of Mark and Sayla. Sayla was wearing one of his baseball jackets, his arm draped over her shoulder. Everyone stared at them, the ‘new’ couple making a fool of themselves.

You didn’t expect Mark to be so bald-faced about it. Your blood boiled, your head felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to leave the party. But if you did, you’d look weak. So you stayed, trying to enjoy the party with your friends, but it was impossible. When Mark kissed Sayla, one eye open in your direction to gauge your reaction, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed your helmet and stormed out of the party, your friends calling after you, warning you not to do anything stupid because you were hot-headed.

And you were, for real.

Arriving back on campus, you pulled out your phone, fingers fumbling as you dialed a number. Your steps echoed, the dress you’d chosen for the party riding up with each step, making you pull it down in frustration.

The phone rang, and rang, until finally, a voice answered, “You calling me? Y/N, what a—”

“Where are you?” you cut him off, voice trembling with rage.

“Damn, what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’” The voice was playful, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Open the fucking door,” you said before hanging up.

Moments later, the dorm door opened, revealing Mingyu with the phone still in his hand, wearing only black shorts that showed a peek of his white underwear. He looked confused, but when he saw you—eyes almost black with rage, in your little dress—he swore it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

You pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing your cell phone on the table. You kissed him, rough and urgent, your fingers tangling in his hair. Mingyu moaned between kisses, the realization that you were kissing him sinking in. His hands found your waist, one hand sliding up to your neck, choking you slightly, making you gasp.

A smirk played on his lips, between breaths. “About time you admitted it.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before kissing him again, harder this time.

Mingyu's grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re so damn hot when you’re mad,” he murmured against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, your fingers tugging at his hair.

He obliged, kissing you with a fervor that matched your own. His hand slid down your back, gripping your ass and pulling you against him. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, a reminder of how much he wanted you. You broke the kiss, breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his.

“What’s your plan, Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

You smirked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “To make sure I don’t think about Mark ever again.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with craving. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him back into a kiss, your hands exploring his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, fingers fumbling from his big chest, to the defined lines of his abs.

Your hand slides from his lower belly to his cock, squeezing his clothed erection slightly. You feel him twitch in your hand, a broken sob leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you got hard so fast,” you murmur against his mouth.

He moans, his breath hot and heavy. “Can’t help it when it’s you.”

You grin wickedly, turning around to show him the long zipper at the back of your dress. “Help me,” you say, your voice low and inviting.

Mingyu nods, his eyes dark with desire. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he catches the zipper and slides it down, his happiness akin to opening a Christmas gift. The dress falls away, and you hold your breasts in your hands, turning to face him, your fingers playing with your hardened nipples, watching his eyebrows furrow.

His hot hand covers yours, and you let him take over, feeling the heat of his touch. He pushes you toward the bed, his lips trailing kisses down your neck before biting gently, his notorious fangs grazing your sensitive skin.

You moan, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands move desperately to your panties, fingers fumbling with the lace until they’re off your legs. He opens your legs with his hands, giving your wet folds a not-so-discreet look.

Mingyu licks his fingers, meeting your eyes before sliding them inside you. You scream at the sudden stretch, feeling his big fingers filling you. He looks at you, to see if it hurts, but then he feels you getting wetter and wetter, your pants filling the room. His hand stills, and you roll your clit against his palm.

His fingers start to slide in and out, the wet noises are sinful as he finds your g'spot. You gasp, your body arching from his bedsheets, your both hands finding his forearm, stilling his fingers curled in this position.

Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise at your reaction, and he repeats the motion, pressing against your sweet spot again, making your eyes fill with tears.

''R-right here! Please!"

“Did your boyfriend never find this spot?” he asks, his voice serious.

You shake your head negatively, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Mingyu's expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “That asshole didn’t know how to please you,” he mutters, then his voice softens as he coos at you.

You sob, his fingers curling repeatedly on the spongy spot. “Aw… don’t worry, my love. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He continues to stimulate you, watching your every reaction, your pleasure nourishing his own. His fingers work you expertly, and you start to get embarrassed by how wet you are getting.

But you can't stop your hips from rubbing against his hands, you can't stop yourself from constantly moaning his name, and you can't help but wonder how you survived without feeling the pleasure Mingyu was giving you.

Your body tenses so much, you're afraid of getting injured, and the pleasure builds, making your vision blurry, catching only Mingyu's silhouette. “Mingyu…,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He's in love with your sensitive form. He slides his fingers out, brushing against your clit, making you moan, wanting the stimulation again, but then he munches on your pussy, making a throaty moan leave your mouth, tears wetting your cheeks. You don't even know if you're sobbing or moaning. You can only focus on his warm mouth sucking everything it can.

Mingyu moans against you, like he's getting stimulated too, and when you manage to squeak out, “Gonna' cum,” he moans even more, the vibrations going to your clit as you arch your back, squeezing your tits.

He opens your legs—quivering pathetically around his head—with the strength of his arms. He only stops when he feels your clit throbbing incessantly inside his mouth, all sensitive.

You don't know how long it took before you were in your mind again, but you can feel Mingyu kissing your whole body. For him, it was a maxim to calm you down, but mainly to appreciate every bit of your skin. When you open your eyes, he's kissing your hand, his thumb gently caressing it. You don't look much, or you will blush. For him, it could finish like this: you cummed, satisfied, and he gets satisfied. But then you mumble, eyes lidded, “Fuck me, please.”

His eyes almost fall from his skull. He watches your legs spread, and you slap weakly at your pussy, inviting him. Mingyu almost falls back with your tease. His hands, lowering his shorts and underwear in one go, desperate to go over you.

"Wait."

He stills, and you smile at his obedience. You turn around, on all fours, wiggling your ass at him, and you hear a suffered moan behind you, making you scoff.

He squeezes your ass between his hands tightly, then slaps your meat, making you hiss. Then another one, making you moan. Then another one, making you drip a line of your cum on the sheets.

Mingyu feels like a crazy creature. He pumps his veiny cock before sliding on your wet folds to spread your cum. And then slides inside. You were so tight, so tight that his blood pressure almost falls down.

“I need to thank your boyfriend for keeping it tight.” He groans after bottoming out.

You widen your eyes at the comment, he sounded so sincere. And you laugh, your hand covering your face, and he chuckles too, seeing that he can't hold his tongue around you.

He can feel you clenching around him every time you laugh, making him moan synchronized with you. He starts to move and your laughs turn into moans, laughed-moans.

“Shit, you’re so tight, you are squeezing me,” he cries, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Didn’t think you’d be this talkative,” you manage between gasps, your body responding to every move he makes.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You grip the sheets, your back arching as he hits just the right spot. “Right there, Mingyu. Fuck, right there.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more precise, each one sending thrills through your body. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good.”

"Seriously, Mingyu," continue betwee moans, "you have no filter."

He grins, thrusting harder. "You're too much."

"Too much for you?" you tease, pushing back against him.

"Never," he mooans, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "I could do this forever."

You moan at his words, that feeling on your stomach tightening. "God, Mingyu..."

He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You like it when I talk, hm? When I say, how good you feel?"

You nod frantically, your mind a blur, you were cock-drunk, moaning his name like it was the only word you ever knew.

He chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper. "Good, because I’m not stopping until you can’t even say his name."

He stops his hips inside you, balls deep, and you can feel his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips to make you feel it deep. Your arms quiver, making you fall with your chest on the bed, face on the sheets. You've never felt someone this deep before. Your hand reaches the bulge Mingyu makes on your belly, and you writhe.

He dirty talks, "You like to feel me here?"

You answer with a throaty moan. He closes his eyes to your rough moan and says, "Fuck, I need to see your pretty face moaning my name."

He turns you to lay on the bed again, one of your legs on his shoulder, and the other stretched by his hand. Since when were you this flexible? you think. When he slams inside you again, your messy cunt clings to him for dear life.

You moan all sly, and Mingyu is inches from your face now, and he teases you, "Look who's all sensitive right now. Where's that grumpy girl from the race? Hm? You just needed a good cock fucking you right to get you relaxed? Right, babe?"

You want to clap a hand on his mouth to keep his cocky talk out of it, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him the moment his dirty words start to fall from his lips. Instead, you give some wet kisses on his lips. He reciprocates every one of them.

You ask him to touch you, and he looks in your eyes, asking, "Where?"

You guide one of his hands to your clit. He collects some of the lubrication that formed a ring at the base of his cock and starts to massage the swollen bud, circling it. Your nails scratch his back, and he hisses, eyes closing. He ruts desperately into you, your pussy casting a spell on him, all wet and good for him.

You glance around the space, the warm illuminated lamp, the scent of his cologne everywhere, his tanned body sweating to give you pleasure, his muscles clenching as he holds you, his hand on your clit, his cock filling you, his eyes focused on every one of your expressions, his moans every time you clench.

You prepare for every detail when your eyes suddenly blur. You feel it coming... fuck. You're cumming, but something else is coming too.

The realization hits you, and you say, "No, no, no, shit!"

You hold his bicep, your head thrown back, the veins on your neck popping. You try to stop, but you can't. You squirt all over him and his bed.

Mingyu stops inside you, mouth open. Now he gets desperate, taking his cock from you and cumming on your belly, so far that it hits your tits too. He lets your legs rest on the bed, and you cover your mouth.

"M-Mingyu, your bed! I'm sorry, let me put this to wash and—" You start to get up, feeling a rush of embarrassment and responsibility for the mess.

Mingyu, still catching his breath, quickly moves to stop you, his hand firm but gentle on your shoulder. He gives you a little push, making you lay back on the bed again. "Hey, relax," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's just a bed. We can clean it up later."

You look at him, your cheeks flushed. "But it's such a mess," you protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I like it messy," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Besides, I think I like you better like this."

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering embrace. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "The bed can wait," he murmurs. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your pulse quicken. "Mingyu," you whisper, feeling the heat rise in your body again.

He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says softly. "Especially when you're all flustered and breathless like this."

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Then why don't we make a little more mess before we clean up?" he suggests, his voice a seductive whisper.

[...]

Your ex's message lights up your cellphone on the table beside the bed: "Where are you?" Mark asks. You can't help but scoff at the audacity. The nerve of him to ask after everything he's done. A surge of defiance washes over you, fueled by the memory of him flaunting Sayla around like some trophy.

Mingyu's rhythm doesn't falter as he thrusts into you from behind, his hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the pain on your scalp, but loving the pleasure that comes with it too. You reach for your phone, you know exactly how to answer Mark's question.

With a quick swipe, you open the camera, positioning it just right. The screen captures the sinful scene—Mingyu's defined body behind you, your flushed shoulder peeking into view, and your hair being pulled by Mingyu.

You snap the photo and attach it to the message as a single view photo.

Letting the image speak for itself.

"Here's your answer," you mutter under your breath, hitting send.

Mingyu's grip tightens, his pace quickening as he senses the shift in your mood. "What did you just do?" he asks, laughing.

You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Just answered a question," you reply, your voice breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with approval. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Let's give him something to really be jealous about."

The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the chorus of moans and gasps that fill the room. As Mingyu's hand slips down to tease your clit, your phone buzzes again, another message from Mark.

But you don't bother to check it.

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the-sunflower-room · 2 months ago

Text

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs.

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest.

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind.

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

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