#Lady Aiko | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celestie0 · 3 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

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“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it.

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket.

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.”

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible.

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you.

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks.

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age.

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.”

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him.

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you.

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation.

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time.

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes.

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–”

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–”

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you.

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden.

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut.

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.”

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw.

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie.

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape.

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you.

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist.

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now.

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives.

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains.

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

[the end]

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

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pin-k-ink · 25 days ago

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KEEP IT CASUAL ★ HOSHINA SOSHIRO

DAY SIX ➵ rumor has it hoshina’s got himself a fuck buddy, and your friends are all dying to know who the mystery girl is. you’d clear things up…if it weren’t you they were gossiping about. so, you do what any sane person would—you steer clear. only problem is, he’s not exactly known for his patience.

cw ➵ dom/sub dynamics, casual relationship, heavy breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, manhàndling, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, face fucking, blòwjob, deepthroating, fingéring, squírting, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie

wc ➵ 7.6k

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The low buzz of conversation filled the ops room as the post-mission monitors cycled down to standby mode, casting the console banks in a moody dimness. You sank back in your chair with an audible exhale, shrugging off the lingering tension like a weighty second skin.

Beside you, Okonogi let her sleek locks tumble free as she dragged her ponytail loose. With her eyes closed, she worked delicate fingertips against her temples as if to physically dispel the lingering data streams from her consciousness.

"Well, that was...intense," Aiko groaned from across the room, her languid stretch making the chair groan softly. "But we killed it as always, ladies!"

Murmurs of exhausted agreement rippled through the cluster of support staff. You kept your expression carefully neutral, concentrating on your outward monitor while inwardly hyperaware of the pronounced ache between your legs.

Because with every micro-shift in your seat, you felt the thick, obscene remnants of Soshiro's ardent efforts from earlier...viscous evidence of the wild, punishing lovemaking session he'd subjected your body to before the mission ops couldn't commence in earnest.

Flashes of blinding rapture sparked behind your eyes in fragmented bursts: the brutally perfect sting of his palm cracking across your bare ass as punishment for making noise...the indecent squelching suction of his thick cock pounding into your swollen depths over and over until you sobbed...the sublimely cruel flick of his wicked tongue around your clit while your thighs shuddered against his ears...

You bit back an involuntary moan, silently thanking every deity you could name for the dimness concealing your furious blush. The ache in your core only intensified further with each subtle provocation reminding you of Soshiro's generous parting "gift" still smeared and throbbing within...

"Okay, but did anyone else notice Vice Captain Hoshina out there today?" Yumi's lower tones broke through the post-op daze like a splash of ice water. "Or am I just so touch starved that I'm projecting my thirsty vibes onto him?"

The suggestive lilt in her voice said she knew damn well she wasn't imagining things. An anticipatory hush fell over the desks as multiple sets of eyes swiveled towards Yumi with an almost audible gleam.

"Oh no, honey - I noticed him too!" Emi purred throatily without missing a beat. She reclined further in her chair, one foot propping up on the edge of her console as if to maximize her own visibility. "All that raw, barely-leashed power and brute strength just simmering beneath the surface and ready to BURST with each swing of that sword?"

Titters of salacious delight greeted her overtly lascivious pause. You tried to focus on keeping your breathing measured and even, but were viscerally aware of your pulse thundering against your blushing throat. Because Emi's lurid insinuations only cast your thoughts spiraling to how accurately she captured Soshiro's merciless, feral intensity when truly unleashed upon your quivering body...

You recalled with perfect clarity the last time you'd been the object of that simmering ferocity let fully off the chain. Three nights ago, behind the soundproofed walls of the training room after hours as he'd pinned your naked, sweat-slicked form against the mirror with punishing force.

"You want this, my sweet slut?" he'd growled in that sub-rumbling baritone saturated with bestial promise. "You want your master's thick cock stretching you wide and ruining this greedy little hole of yours once and for all?"

Your whimpering assent had shredded on a desperate keen when Soshiro abruptly hilted himself balls-deep within your swollen pussy in one brutally unhurried stroke. The volcanic heat of him stuffed so relentlessly full inside robbed your lungs of air, leaving you gasping and boneless as he loomed behind - a conquering force of nature poised to split you asunder over and over again...

You tamped down hard on the sizzling memories even as a fresh gush of arousal pulsed needily against your throbbing walls. It took every ounce of wherewithal not to audibly whine or squirm.

Meanwhile, the salacious gossiping had only escalated further while you spiraled.

"I bet the Vice Captain tastes as intensely delicious as he looks when he's all sweating and riled up like that, too." The explicit slurp Aiko tacked on left nothing to the imagination. "God, I would murder just about anyone for a chance to get a mouthful of him after a mission that brutal..."

A round of scandalous giggles rang out over the desks as your cheeks flamed darker than ever before. Of COURSE Aiko would imagine such depraved cravings towards the man. And of course, you knew first-hand just how utterly transcendent indulging in that very sordid desire really was when sinking to your knees before Soshiro. How his thick, punishingly delicious cock stuffed your mouth so completely full, your jaw ached exquisitely as he pumped in and out with escalating savagery...

You'd swallowed him down to the root on that occasion like the obedient slut he'd called you. Forced to breathe in desperate snuffles through your flaring nostrils as Soshiro grasped brutal handfuls of your hair, anchoring your mouth as an eager receptacle for his lust. Only when you were sputtering and drooling around his shaft did he allow you respite, thick ropes of salty cum hosing across your tongue while he groaned his perverse pleasure...

Another treacherous gush of liquid heat caught you off-guard, forcing you to shift minutely and bite your lower lip to stifle a plaintive noise. Outwardly, you remained every inch the demure, focused operative reviewing post-op data alongside some of your peers. Inwardly, you were a boiling maelstrom of lust-soaked humiliation and rampant need.

Because their casual, lurid fantasizing and rumors amounted to so little when held against the viscerally depraved undercurrent of your relationship with Soshiro. How he revelled in making you the most fucked-out, overstimulated little toy - rendered profoundly insensible from having every one of your limits smashed and boundaries redrawn around his potent,mercilcally uncompromising lovemaking.

"Wait, but...since we're on the subject of the Vice Captain getting riled up..." Emis's voice took on a lasciviously loaded tone that immediately commanded the room's attention. "Has anyone else heard the whispers going around lately about him maybe having a...special lady friend of his own that he's been getting alllll riled up for behind closed doors?"

The tension in the air immediately kicked up several shuddering notches as every support staff operative stopped breathing in unison. Even Okonogi's usually stern features betrayed feverishly piqued interest at those delicious implications.

As for you...in that endless suspended moment, you felt every ounce of arousal and lingering fluids sloshing within your abused and claimed body turn to molten panic. Because they were finally approaching the subject permanently etched into your every waking thought and fevered dream.

The forbidden, utterly perverse reality of you being the secret lover in question - Soshiro's chosen conquest and receptacle for every licentious, primal urge he couldn't vent upon any other. Your only role to feed his basest hungers and cravings for total carnal domination over a yielding, feminine form built for the express purpose of desperate pleasuring.

You shuddered hard enough for the wheels of your chair to squeak against the console alcove as a fresh bloom of humiliation washed over your features. The girls' speculating scrutiny prickled like smoldering embers against your cheeks.

Over the next few minutes, every tiny detail and explict rumor you'd been trying so diligently to ignore was about to spill forth like a bursting delta of perverse conjecture. They would doubtlessly paint vile, viscerally pornographic imagery with every crude supposition - all while failing to even graze the shuddering, soul-shattering truth.

That after each mission or training regimen, it was you and you alone who became Soshiro's personal oasis for slaking his needs. That he claimed you over and over in bestial, punishing raptures - stretching you to the point of delirium while spasming deep inside, pumping raw viscous lashings of his essence into your core until you grew drunk on his musky feral musk.

That he had turned you into an obscenely babbling, ruined thing - mewling and thrashing and enduring ritualistic despoilments of your body again and again without reprieve, your only solace being the sublime respites between each shattering orgasm where he whispered salacious praise into the sweaty hollow of your throat.

The mere reminder of what was to come while trapped among their obliviously speculating ranks caused you to silently keen. You covertly pressed your trembling thighs together, desperate to alleviate the liquid throbbing echoing from your innermost chambers.

But it was no use. Every subsequent rumor exhaled into the ripe air only stoked the smoldering coals of your hunger higher...until your entire being cried out for Soshiro's deliverance in the form of complete despoilment - mind, body, and soul - before their very eyes.

"Wait, back up - did you say the Vice Captain might have a lover?" Chika sputtered, eyes wide behind her glasses. "As in, some special lady friend he's been shtupping on the down-low?"

A weighted pause crystallized as all eyes turned towards Emi with rapt fascination. The sly grin curling her lips spoke volumes before she even had a chance to confirm the tantalizing rumor.

"Oh, there's definitely some people going around alleging as much," Emi purred in a treacly lilt that had your pulse kicking up a notch. "In fact, things are getting pretty heated about the mysterious identity of this supposed lover and just what kind of freaky bedroom activities might be going on..."

The weighted silence that followed her lascivious statement seemed to crush inwards from all sides. You fought to keep each inhale steady and measured, feeling the dense viscosity of Soshiro's earlier deposit shifting indecently within your clenching walls at every provocation.

Like a lurid siren song, it beckoned you to surrender to the truth - to reveal yourself as the one providing your powerful Vice Captain with succor in his most primal, unrestrained throes of need. The one bearing the stickied evidence of his virility at this very moment as a perverse trophy.

The thought alone made you shiver with humiliated yearning even as Okonogi tutted in clear disapproval.

"Oh for gods' sake...are we really stooping to such sophomoric gossip now?" she chided, glaring around the room. "Have some discretion and professionalism, ladies. We all know rumors like that are utter bull—"

"But what if they aren't, though?" Ayumi suddenly cut in with palpable glee. "I meannn...let's be real here, Okonogi. Our Vice Captain is like, the human embodiment of raw alpha dominance, right? That kind of raw sexual intensity HAS to get channeled somewhere beyond just training and fighting!"

A salacious titter circulated in the wake of her words. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek until you tasted copper, fighting the mortified urge to sink beneath the desks and simply disappear. Because where they projected lurid speculation and pedestrian fantasy, your reality with Soshiro dwarfed everything on an order of magnitude.

"She's kinda got a point..." Chika chimed in with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Just picture it: the poor guy's probably all pent up after all those ops. He HAS to be unleashing that somewhere when the pressures build too much, right?"

More depraved chuckles and giggles swelled around you as a fresh gush of slick arousal pulsed deep within your abused body. Because that's exactly what transpired after each and every assignment - Soshiro storming into whatever private oasis you'd arranged, seizing your pliant form with bruising force and subjugating you for hours on end in an endless gauntlet of volcanic couplings.

His ruinous thickness would ream you asunder again and again in merciless strokes until the potent, musky seed he'd been hoarding boiled free in hot, viscous lashings...only for his ferocious hungers to roar back to life minutes later, the cycle beginning anew until you became a spent, thoroughly abused mess of oversensitized nerves shaken to your very core.

"Well aren't you all just charming today," Okonogi grumbled through gritted teeth. "Whether or not Vice Captain Hoshina engages in...intimate relations during his personal time is utterly irrelevant. We should focus on—"

"Okaaay, but can we at least take a sec to appreciate what an absolute monster in the sack he must be?" Emi interjected before the lecture could gain momentum. "I'm talking full beast mode...utterly destroying some poor girl through multiple orgasms and leaving her wrecked in the best way possible for days afterward!"

You whimpered audibly before you could bite it back, memories of Soshiro's last marathon claiming session assaulting your consciousness in vivid detail. The look of ravenous possession distorting his chiseled features as he hilted himself inside your slick, swollen entrance over and over...the steadily escalating volume of your frantic cries as he hammered his pulsing, volcanic length against that sublime innermost cluster of nerves repeatedly...his ruthless stamina and refusal to allow you even a moment's respite as you pathetically begged for mercy amid each shattering climax only to be hurled towards bigger, more brilliant heights of rapture...

Emi released another lurid chuckle, either not catching your stifled noise or willfully ignoring it. "Ooh yes, I can picture it now...Vice Captain just railing her silly from behind, putting that athletic cock to goooood use stretching her out and making her see stars over and over again..."

A breathless chorus of tortured gasps and giggles greeted the gauche fantasy as more wanton giggling erupted. Only you remained frozen in mortified silence, dizzy from the memories and visceral recollections pummeling you alongside each descriptive stroke.

Because that was among Soshiro's favorite methods of possessing you completely - gripping your hair in a punishing fist and dragging you back into his waiting shaft in one ruthless stroke, mouth agape and vertebrae straining to accommodate his ferocious pace from behind. Over and over he would split your swollen pussy lips apart with violent snap of his toned hips until every upstroke ground agonizingly against that spongy cluster inside and sent you spiraling into oblivion.

Only after you dissolved into an animalistic, mewling wreck in the wake of your latest orgasmic spiral would Soshiro finally allow you ragged relief as he snarled his own savage release to the hilt. You'd gasp and shudder brokenly while he pumped obscene ropes of viscous heat into your abused quim, painting your womb in thick virile ropes until you grew delirious on the potent musk alone...

"Maybe we should...change the subject?" Okonogi's hesitant suggestion only drew more snickering derision, easily overshadowed by the wave of obscene conjecture washing over the room now.

"Nah, where's the fun in that? This is JUICY stuff, Okonogi!" Ayumi all but crowed with wicked delight. "But seriously, what are the odds Vice Captain Hoshina is super gentle and tender with his secret lover? I feel like such raw, unfettered power like that HAS to demand surrendering control in bed too, right?"

More affirmative murmurs of agreement cut through the low din, your fingers clenching into bloodless crescents in your palms. Because they couldn't be further from the truth in assuming any sense of vanilla 'tenderness' held sway during your trysts with Soshiro.

Instead, his almost ritualistic claiming of your body embodied the most exquisitely merciless domination imaginable. You were a powerless plaything to be subdued and thoroughly used until lying shattered and spent in the ruined aftermath, an empty vessel to be pumped endlessly full of his searing essence until leaking and insensate.

No, there was no 'surrendering control' to be had - only being stripped of all remaining autonomy in stages until you became an overwrought flesh-puppet and Soshiro held the strings. An endlessly overwhelmed conduit through which he vented his basest, most violently licentious hungers without restriction or limits of any kind...

"Nah, I bet with all that brooding quiet intensity our Vice Captain rocks, he's probably a total beast in the sheets!" Emi's husky intonation rang with shuddering promise even through the outrageous slang. "Pinning that secret lover down and making her whole world shake with how hard and deep he—"

"Oh my GOD, do you even HEAR yourselves right now?!" Okonogi's outraged shout detonated through the crackling quiet with startling abruptness. Fortunately, you were ready - the ample distraction provided cover for a tiny, relieved gasp as more liquid fire blossomed outward from your very core.

For a long, pregnant pause, everyone simply stared at your flustered team leader in stunned silence. Finally, Aiko let out a bark of sardonic laughter that rapidly infected everyone else like a virus until you were surrounded by unchecked amusement on all sides.

"Aw relax, Chief! We're all just blowing off a little steam here after that crazy heat from the mission," she soothed with a placating wave. "No harm, no foul in a little good-natured gossiping about our dear Vice Captain's...extra-curricular activities, right? Isn't that what you innocent young ladies get off on fantasizing ab—"

This time, it was your turn to whip around with matching outrage painting your flush across your features - playing directly into the innocent, doe-eyed persona they'd all somehow cast you into over the years. As if you would never be party to such salacious conjecture about a direct superior's personal affairs!

That harmless, virginal act effectively sliced through the ribald atmosphere with startling efficiency. Though you knew it was only a matter of time before the torrid gossip stream picked back up in full force once more...

Leaving you hopelessly squirming and slickening around Soshiro's musky parting gift as each fevered recollection came barging back in to stake its claim upon your fracturing thoughts. Just another tantalizing prelude to the moment he inevitably stalked into your midst like a ravenous beast, senses immediately honing in on the debauched syrup of your delirium until—

The heavy thud of boot steps preceded Soshiro's arrival, each measured fall carrying an authoritative weight that sliced through the hushed atmosphere like a granite obelisk.

Conversations petered out in fitful spurts as he stalked into the ops room, shoulders rolling fluidly beneath his fitted jacket. You felt rooted to your chair in a full-body stilled trance, suddenly hyperaware of every indecent shift and subtle glug of Soshiro's lingering deposit pulsing within your depths.

His eyes were shuttered to mere slits beneath heavy lids as the Vice Captain executed a languorous sweep of his surroundings. Though outwardly relaxed, you detected the infinitesimal dilation of those flaring nostrils - scenting the airborne currents like a predator detecting potential incursions upon his territory.

Which is exactly what this space represented while the mission transpired and the room hummed with activity. His domain to command as he saw fit without interference or question. A realm you and the other operatives submitted to his watchful oversight in totality.

But something in the weighted stillness alerted Soshiro that some subtle line may have been edged over in his temporary absence. You could perceive the nearly subliminal stiffness entering his shoulders, each micro-movement radiating a sensual coiled menace as his roving stare continued dissecting every occupied station.

Until, at last, his searing focus settled directly upon where you remained trapped in posture of perfect stillness. His heavy-lidded gaze raked over your form in a molten brand, seeming to scorch away every layer of modesty and formality until only naked, vulnerable truth remained.

Soshiro's tongue peeked out to drag across his lower lip in one slow, considering sweep. You tensed imperceptibly, instinctively clenching around the tepid smear of lingering spend in anticipation of whatever unvoiced judgment roiled behind that burgundy stare.

"Everything all right here, ladies?"

The rich, sub-basso rumble of Soshiro's inquiry sluiced through the weighted quiet like a lascivious caress along your feverish skin. You struggled not to squirm, gut clenching at his tone's undisguised implication that something was clearly off-kilter upon his arrival.

"N-Not at all, Vice Captain!" Okonogi promptly squared her shoulders with a determination bordering on overcompensation. "We were just...discussing the mission debrief and objectives for the next cycle."

Soshiro's weighted stare didn't so much as flinch from its heavy study of your flushed expression. You could practically sense the potent curiosity and smoldering undercurrent of possession radiating off him in waves, inexorably dragging his next words straight into your core.

"I see..."

The low, gravel-rough utterance seemed to shiver along your nerve endings like a physical caress. Each subtle hitch and micro-tremor jolting through your frame felt magnified tenfold beneath Soshiro's watchful, piercing perusal.

"In that case, Y/N," he rumbled after a pause far too salacious and suggestive to go unmarked. "I'll need you to provide me a detailed account in my office shortly."

His tongue made another considering sweep over his full lower lip as the weighty syllables rang out with subterranean promise.

"There were a few operational aspects I want to go over more thoroughly..."

You shuddered finely despite your best efforts, feeling the salacious demand undulating between each lascivious cadence like serpentine heat. Some primal, feminine part of your psyche stretched out in breathless longing towards Soshiro's scrutiny - craving nothing more than to unfurl yourself for his rapacious appraisal behind closed doors.

To disrobe each inch of propriety and protectively he shielded you with until only quivering truth remained naked before his hunger. Open...pliant...ready to accommodate and receive whatever scorching reprimands or bestial attentions he deemed fit to inflict...

But outwardly you remained frozen with carefully cultivated opacity, painfully aware of the entire room's scrutiny trained upon the two of you with rapt interest. You forced your gaze to meet Soshiro's burning stare directly, chest constricting with the effort of keeping your voice level and unbothered.

"I...have reports to file, sir," you managed in a tone of vaguely apologetic neutrality. "Perhaps we could go over it another time?"

For an endless, loaded moment, Soshiro betrayed no outward reaction save for the slightest tightening around those sensual full lips. You imagined you could detect the harshgrate of enamel grinding mere inches away as his jaw torqued infinitesimally tighter.

Then, without fanfare, he inclined his head in a measured fraction of a nod - belying none of the raptor-like intensity simmering behind those hooded crimson depths.

"Very well," he rumbled in a cadence dripping with unspoken assurances. "Don't be too long - I'll be expecting that report on my desk by the end of the day."

He let the words resonate with iron finality for a suspended beat before turning on his booted heel with that same coiled, predatory grace he'd entered with. Not another look was spared for anyone else as the Vice Captain stalked out of the room, movements telegraphing that same subtle aura of male power and virility.

Only once the echoes of Soshiro's measured footfalls faded into silence did you become properly aware of the weight of multiple stares bearing down upon you from the others arrayed around the room.

Confusion, uncertainty, unmistakable embers of piqued curiosity and prurient envy...every shade of turbulent emotion simmered within their variously flushed expressions as if begging to breach the surface.

Yet you couldn't begin to find it within yourself to explain or dissemble before stoking those percolating flames any further. Instead, you simply exhaled a shaking breath and studiously avoided their questioning looks - too consumed by the lingering brand of Soshiro's stare and the soul-trembling promise it heralded for whatever was to come later.

Much, much later when you could finally unveil your truth for him once and for all. Just as he demanded with that low rumble and unspoken glyphs of lascivious fire smoldering in your wake.

The empty hallway stretched in shadowed silence before you as you made your way towards the exit, footfalls echoing with hollow finality. You'd lingered as long as possible in the operations room, determined to avoid any further confrontation after Soshiro's loaded summons earlier.

However, the steady emptying of staff as evening crept closer eventually forced your departure. You steeled yourself against the prospect of potentially crossing paths with the Vice Captain en route. The thickening tension simmering between you two felt ready to detonate into a supernova at the slightest provocation.

You rounded the corner, almost home free, when a powerful hand shot out and clamped around your elbow in an inescapable vise. A startled cry withered in your throat as you were forcibly hauled sideways with blistering momentum into the gaping threshold of an unoccupied meeting room.

The breath expelled from your lungs in a harsh rasp as your back collided with the wall. You had a fleeting second to take in the dim, stale atmosphere around you before an immense presence materialized - utterly blotting out all else as searing heat and masculine musk engulfed your senses.

"Did you really think you could avoid me that easily, little one?" Soshiro's subterranean rumble dripped with dark promise against the sensitive whorls of your ear.

You shuddered helplessly as his powerful frame pinned you in place, the scorching brand of his body aligned against yours in one searing line from chest to hip. Soshiro didn't afford you even a breath to respond before his mouth descended in a punishing, open-mouthed invasion.

The shocked gasp you exhaled was swallowed whole as he instantly took scorching possession of your lips. His tongue plunged past your slack defenses in a relentless, thrusting cadence that stoked blazing embers low in your abdomen.

Finally, Soshiro wrenched his mouth free with a carnal growl that reverberated straight to your shuddering core. You gasped desperately for air, mouth swollen and glistening with the lingering evidence of his ravenous claiming.

"I asked you..." he rasped against the reddened curve of your throat, drunk on drinking in your debauched state, "Did you think you could avoid me so easily after those tantalizing whispers started making the rounds?"

All you could manage was a tremulous whimper as Soshiro nipped viciously at the thundering pulse in your neck. Sharp bursts of pleasure-pain blossomed with each punishing graze of his teeth - possessive markers of his dominance scoring your sensitized flesh.

"I should have known better..." He snarled the words like ash and gravel, "Than to expect my sweet little slut could keep her mouth shut and her damn thoughts in order around the others."

He punctuated the heated condemnation by grinding his clothed cock against your core in one savage roll of powerful hips. You jolted against him with a gasping cry, suddenly aware of your own swollen pussy gushing fresh desire with each delicious provocation.

"Open," Soshiro growled against the pliant seam of your slack lips. "Let me see if your greedy little mouth can make up for your shitty excuses."

Before you could react, he seized a fistful of your hair in an unforgiving grip, cruelly angling your skull back as he plundered your mouth anew. His kiss was nothing but liquid heat and savagery - all violation and sin and rapacious demand to surrender utterly. You could only keen against the ruthless onslaught as his tongue forged deeper, stroking and consuming without quarter.

At last, Soshiro wrenched his ravening mouth free with a bestial snarl, the thin trail of saliva connecting your swollen lips only enhancing the depravity. His ruby gaze bored into yours with banked, molten intensity that made you want to spontaneously combust.

"Strip." The guttural command brooked no argument as he took an unhurried step backwards, freeing you from the cage of his lush heat. "Down to those cute little panties of yours, slut. I want to see the aftermath of my...earlier efforts before ruining you all over again."

You trembled bodily at the dark promise laced behind each provocative syllable. But you knew better than to hesitate or dissemble. Not when Soshiro's eyes had taken on that churning, vermillion glaze of absolute predatory hunger.

With shaking hands and stuttering inhales, you obeyed the directive - shucking your uniform until you stood nude before him save for those last shreds of modesty. Soshiro's intense scrutiny raked over your freshly bared form in long, devouring sweeps that made you want to instinctively squirm.

His eyes darkened to pools of crimson fire as they settled on the apex of your trembling thighs. You swallowed thickly, paralyzed beneath his raptor-like focus zeroing in on the ripe, musky evidence of his earlier claiming still glistening against your flushed folds.

"Look at you..." Soshiro growled in a tone skirting delirious rapture, "My sweet little whore - still dripping and swollen with her master's cum after all these hours, leaking like the perfect cocksleeve she is."

A tremor wracked your entire frame as fresh slick bloomed outward from your molten core at his crass words. The humiliating, delicious recollections flooded back in - vivid daydreams from earlier in the day, fueled by idle gossip and your teammates' unwitting conjecture.

Except in reality, their crudest suppositions didn't even manage to scratch the surface of your fealty and submission towards your utterly dominant Vice Captain. In the end, Soshiro alone reigned supreme over your broken, ruined form.

Only he could pour such perversities behind your ears with honeyed relish and make you swoon towards his very boots in supplication...

*"On your knees, slut," Soshiro ordered with an insouciant flick of his fingers as he began unbuckling his belt. "Since your efforts to remain discreet proved so utterly ineffective today, I believe my sweet little toy deserves an extra thorough inspection to ensure my seed took proper root this time."

You didn't even pause, immediately folding into a kneeling supplication and prostrating yourself at his feet. Soshiro's approving grunt made heat flush through your body as he unzipped his fly and fished out his rigid cock in a single languid motion.

It stood proudly from its nest of coarse black hair, the ruddy tip glistening with a droplet of translucent pre-cum. Your mouth instantly flooded with moisture at the sight, the need to worship and taste him once more a physical ache throbbing inside.

Soshiro's lip curled knowingly, as if sensing the direction of your thoughts. Then he was leaning forward, fingers winding through the silken strands of your hair in a cruel grip that forced you to arch towards his waiting shaft.

"You know what to do, slut," he purred darkly. "Open."

The moment the command left his lips, you did as instructed. Your mouth parted without hesitation, tongue unfurling and throat going slack in supplication. A soft growl of approval vibrated the air around you, accompanied by the heavy musk of arousal filling your nose as Soshiro began dragging his swollen cockhead back and forth against your tongue.

"So perfectly obedient for me..."

He didn't have to issue the next order, the unspoken command reverberating like an electric charge through your veins. Your lips immediately sealed around his throbbing tip and you suckled gently, laving the underside with wet, eager strokes of your tongue.

Soshiro groaned in low satisfaction as he fed inch after glorious inch into your throat. You swallowed around him, welcoming the weighty intrusion with practiced ease. He held himself there for a protracted moment, simply savoring the tight clutch of your throat constricting around his engorged head.

Then, without warning, he drew back only to snap his hips forward again with brutal intent.

You gagged violently, the thick glans punching the back of your throat and causing reflexive tears to spring into the corners of your eyes. You forced yourself to relax, jaw slack and breathing shallow, as Soshiro continued his punishing thrusts.

His pelvis rocked against your face in a steady, driving rhythm that made your cheeks hollow with each withdrawal. You sucked with desperate enthusiasm, coaxing and massaging every turgid ridge and bulging vein.

The air grew damp and stifling with each forceful collision, the obscene squelching of your drool and his pre-spend painting a lascivious picture. Soshiro's head fell back as he let out a ragged, feral moan that made your gut clench with anticipation.

"Such a good little toy..."

You preened at the praise, eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you eagerly accepted the brutal pounding. Your mascara had no doubt begun running in black rivulets down your face, joining the saliva dribbling out the sides of your stretched lips.

Your pussy ached fiercely, slick and swollen, desperate for the same ruthless attention Soshiro was lavishing upon your mouth. But you knew better than to seek any form of friction or relief. Not when the man standing above you owned every part of your being, commanding you like a well-trained plaything.

"I'm close..."

Soshiro's voice came out strained and guttural. You moaned in anticipation around the thick column of flesh impaling your throat, the reverberations causing a visible shudder to race up his spine.

"Swallow every drop, slut," he grunted between ragged breaths. "Don't miss a single fucking—"

He cut off with a choked cry, his entire body seizing in a powerful shudder as his orgasm exploded through him. You felt his cock swell even further within your mouth, the heavy spurts of hot, thick fluid painting your throat white as you greedily swallowed down his spend.

You drank him in with ravenous, eager gulps, determined not to miss a single drop. Only once Soshiro had fully emptied himself into your waiting maw did he finally release his punishing grip on your hair. He slowly withdrew his softening cock, giving it a few gentle tugs to clear away the last dregs of cum and saliva onto your swollen lips.

Then he was crouching down, forcing you to meet his hooded gaze. One hand reached out to cup the back of your skull, pulling you forward for a searing, languid kiss. He swept his tongue inside to taste himself within the heated recesses, drinking down his essence with a low, satisfied growl.

When he pulled back, Soshiro's lips remained mere inches away - close enough to share the same humid breath. He traced his thumb along the curve of your jaw, his expression uncharacteristically tender and indulgent.

"That's a good girl," he murmured huskily. "Such a good, obedient toy. So sweet and eager to please...and ready to take whatever I give you, aren't you, Y/N?"

You nodded, the flush on your cheeks deepening at his approving, almost worshipful words.

"Good," Soshiro hummed in satisfaction, his lips quirking up in a small smirk. "Now get up and bend over the table. I need to check just how thoroughly I've bred my little slut..."

He punctuated the command by trailing his fingertips lower, ghosting over the swollen peaks of your nipples before dragging across the slickened plane of your abdomen. Then, without preamble, he slid those digits lower - right past the waistband of your sodden panties and straight into the molten heat of your core.

You choked out a gasp, arching towards his hand as he stroked you with languid precision. Soshiro leaned forward, the warm puffs of his breath fanning across the sensitive shell of your ear as he purred, "Plus, I need to give you another loador two to replace what's dripping out of this lewd, perfect pussy..."

He punctuated the final words by curling his fingers deep inside you. You whimpered at the delicious pressure, clenching around him, craving something much thicker and harder to truly satiate your ravening hunger.

"That's it, baby girl," he rasped, the molten edge in his voice a physical brand against the delicate skin of your neck. "You know I won't be satisfied until you're stuffed full of my cum. So why don't you show me exactly how much you want my cock...?"

A shudder wracked your frame as Soshiro's fingers withdrew, leaving behind a sticky webbing of silken arousal bridging his glistening fingertips. Without pause, he rose and circled the table, the heavy thud of his boots against the carpeted floor ringing out in deafening finality.

You followed, the sound of your heart thundering in your ears drowning out all else. You bent over the edge of the conference table, ass presented shamelessly towards the man looming at your back.

There was no hesitation as you arched into the position, spreading your legs and pushing your sodden underwear down your quivering thighs. You heard Soshiro's rough exhale, sensed the intensity of his gaze as it raked over the slick, swollen lips of your core.

Then the weighty clunk of his belt buckle echoed through the still air as Soshiro freed himself once more. His hand grasped the ample swell of one cheek, kneading the flesh in his grip as he dragged the head of his cock through the copious slick between your thighs.

You shuddered in anticipation, eyes clenched tightly shut as his cockhead pressed against your entrance. You knew without a shadow of a doubt what was coming. But you could never prepare yourself for the mind-shattering pleasure-pain when Soshiro slammed his hips home, his swollen shaft splitting you wide open and hilting him balls-deep inside.

You cried out at the invasion, the sudden blistering fullness making tears prickle behind your closed eyelids. Soshiro didn't grant you even a second to recover before withdrawing and driving back in with a savage thrust.

You gasped at the force of the blow, nails digging into the polished wood surface as the entire table shifted under his powerful lunges. Soshiro fucked you with a brutality that stole the very air from your lungs, each punishing thrust driving you further towards the precipice of incoherency.

The filthy squelch of your wet pussy around his pistoning cock filled the room, intermingled with Soshiro's ragged snarls and your own gasping moans. The pleasure-pain was exquisite, a burning stretch that left you quivering and pliant beneath him. You didn't even realize how close you were to your peak until the sharp smack of Soshiro's palm against the sensitive flesh of your ass brought you crashing over the edge.

Your climax slammed through you in a tidal wave, making your pussy clamp down around his thrusting length and hot liquid gush from your folds. You felt Soshiro's hips stutter for the barest fraction of a second before resuming his brutal pace.

"Did I tell you you could come, slut?" He growled against the shell of your ear, his voice low and dangerous. "Are you really such a filthy little whore that a spanking was all it took for you to gush and cream all over my cock?"

The humiliation was an exquisite knife-twist, a lashing strike that made a fresh rush of arousal flood your pulsing core. Soshiro's answering rumble of approval vibrated against your neck as he nuzzled the damp flesh, inhaling your scent.

"So eager, so hungry for my cum. Well, since you've been such a good little cocksleeve, I think you've earned the privilege of getting a nice, hot creampie..."

You whimpered and arched against him, instinctively pressing your ass towards his thrusting hips in supplication. Soshiro's answering chuckle was low and throaty, sending another shiver down your spine.

"You enjoyed it, didn’t you," he purred against the damp skin of your throat. "Being watched, gossiped about, having all those perverted daydreams of mine exposed. You fucking loved it."

His words were punctuated by a punishing thrust, the blunt head of his cock driving deep and making you see stars. Soshiro's hands reached down to seize a bruising grip on your hips, his tempo becoming erratic and savage as his own orgasm rapidly approached.

"You love it, don't you, slut? Knowing your friends and colleagues can only imagine what it's like to have me fuck them raw, but they'll never experience anything half as depraved as you do..."

Soshiro's hand snaked forward, his thumb reaching down to press hard against the throbbing bundle of nerves nestled within the slippery folds of your pussy. Your mouth parted in a keening cry, the tension inside you coiling ever tighter.

"You like knowing that you’re the only woman worthy of my attention, my lust, my cum...knowing that every filthy fantasy and daydream they can conjure will never, ever measure up to how it feels when I fill you up, Y/N."

A strangled sob wrenched itself free from your throat as the pressure building inside reached a fever pitch. With a snarl, Soshiro buried himself to the hilt, the swollen tip of his cock lodged deep against your cervix.

The feeling was enough to send you over the edge. White light burst behind your eyes as another orgasm ripped through your writhing form. Soshiro's name tore itself free from your lips as your pussy clamped around him, milking his shaft with greedy convulsions.

With a final, savage grunt, he followed suit - pumping rope after scorching rope of thick, potent cum straight into your molten core. You felt the heavy, wet spurts coat your inner walls, filling you up and searing him into your very being.

It seemed to go on forever, each twitching spurt accompanied by a hoarse groan of pleasure. At last, he collapsed heavily against your back, his panting breaths ruffling the damp tendrils of hair clinging to the curve of your throat.

Dimly, you felt Soshiro nuzzle the damp, heated flesh, his lips pressing gentle kisses against the thundering pulse in your neck. A shiver rippled through you as his spent cock twitched one last time, a trickle of sticky heat spilling out and coating the insides of your thighs.

"Fuck, I needed that," Soshiro finally rasped, his voice a low, guttural rasp.

You could only muster a soft moan of agreement, too wrung out and spent to manage anything more coherent. His answering chuckle was warm and indulgent as he slowly withdrew, the feeling of his softening shaft pulling free from your dripping pussy making you gasp.

The sensation was soon replaced by a thick, viscous gush of his seed flooding out, pooling onto the floor between your trembling thighs. You didn't have the energy to care, or even bother to pull your soaked panties back up. Instead, you simply sagged forward, letting the table take the brunt of your weight as you let out a long, contented sigh.

Behind you, you heard the rustle of clothing as Soshiro put himself back together. A gentle hand landed on the curve where your ass met your thigh before trailing up the smooth expanse of your back. You shuddered, biting back a moan, as those wicked fingers dipped down, tracing the seam of your swollen, well-used entrance.

"Look at you..."

Soshiro's husky drawl was thick with satisfaction. You didn't have to open your eyes or glance behind to picture the self-satisfied smile curling his lips. You could only shudder as he pressed his fingers deeper, swirling his fingertips through the sticky, pearly concoction dripping from your core.

"Fucked stupid and covered in my cum," he mused, the smug amusement lacing his tone making a flush crawl up your neck. "I'm not surprised the others couldn't keep their mouths shut after hearing the way you scream when I'm pounding this tight, slutty pussy..."

You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped at the provocative words, nor the renewed surge of heat flushing outward from your swollen, hypersensitive core. It was a futile effort to try and clench around his lingering fingers, but you couldn't help the reflexive motion.

You heard Soshiro's soft snort as he withdrew his fingers with one last, parting sweep through the sticky mess pooled between your thighs. You could hear him sucking the remnants from his fingertips, the obscene slurping noises only further stoking the embers of desire simmering low in your belly.

"Don't worry, baby girl," he crooned, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against the corner of your mouth. "We've still got an hour before we have to clean up. Why don't we spend it seeing how many times I can make you come and ruin this carpet in the process?"

You moaned and nodded weakly, opening your eyes and meeting his hooded gaze. Soshiro smiled, a wicked flash of white teeth and crimson heat.

"That's what I thought."