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d1stalker · 2 months ago

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Collateral Damage [Logan Howlett]

SUMMARY: The X-men are heroes—they save the world, eradicate threats and protect both mutants and humans alike. You don't see it that way, though.

WARNINGS: one-sided e2l, fem!reader is stubborn and sassy af but it's valid, arguing, canon-level violence, scott's a dick, SMUT - 18+ only! WC: 21k - MASTERLIST

A/N: i've always wanted to write a fic with this plot, it's been on my mind for AGES. happy reading!

----

The first time you see them, it’s on your birthday.

Not being one for big, elaborate parties, you planned a quiet celebration instead—maybe a stroll through the lively city streets, followed by dinner with friends later. You had just visited your favourite store, buying a gift for yourself, and now you’re on your way back home.

The streets buzz with life as people shop, eat, and laugh, making it the perfect backdrop for a peaceful walk and some casual people-watching.

Then, out of nowhere, the ground trembles.

At first, you think it’s an earthquake—a quick jolt beneath your feet that sends a ripple of confusion through your body. But the tremor grows stronger, the ground shaking violently as everyone around you begins to panic, frantically looking around for the source, you included. And that’s when you see it.

A hulking, green monster stomping through the city streets like something out of a nightmare. It has to be at least twenty feet tall, its skin a sickly shade of green, its eyes glowing with rage. Cars bounce with each heavy footstep, leaving deep footprints in the cement in its wake.

People scream, scrambling to get out of its path, but you stand frozen, heart pounding as you try to make sense of what’s happening. In the blink of an eye, the city had been plunged into chaos. You lose track of your surroundings, too busy trying to keep your eyes on the monster headed your way, while also dodging the hoard of pedestrians running for their lives.

Until they show up.

Initially, you don’t even notice them. After all, there’s so much going on around you at this point you barely know what to do with yourself. Yet, through the dust and destruction, you see flashes of movement—figures darting toward the monster with a sense of purpose.

You don’t know who they are, but their bright blue and yellow suits make it seem like you should. At first glance, it’s hard not to feel a sense of awe. They move with such confidence, with their powers on full display for the world to see. You’ve never seen anything like it—a team of mutants using their powers in the open, fighting for what you assume is the greater good.

Maybe they can stop this!

The one first to act is a woman with white hair. She raises her arms to the sky, her eyes glowing a bright white as dark clouds swirl above, blocking out the sun. A flash of lightning slams into the monster's chest, forcing it to reel back with a thunderous roar of agony, and the crowd around you gasps, watching in wonder.

But when the lightning strikes a second time, it veers off course, crashing into the side of a nearby building. The structure groans under the impact, flames erupting from the point of contact as windows shatter, sending glass raining down onto the street below.

The collision sends you to the ground, and when you look up again, you see the power inside go out, all the lights flickering off.

Whatever awe you’d been feeling dissolves into concern, a sinking feeling settling in your chest.

Following her, a man with a glowing red visor strides forward. He’s clearly aiming to hit the monster, but the bright red beam shooting from his eyes slices through several cars in the street first, flipping them over and leaving them in smoldering wrecks. One of the blasts tears through a storefront, reducing it to rubble in a matter of seconds. More people scream and scatter, trying to escape the destruction.

From the corner of your eye, you see another mutant—a man with claws—lunge toward the monster, jumping onto cars to get closer to its head. But by using the parked cars as springboards, the weight of him causes the roof to sink in, and his claws leave deep gashes in the metal.

How heavy is this guy? Is he made of metal or something?

He’s fast, brutal, slashing at the green beast with some serious ferocity. Still, despite the attack, the monster’s strength prevails, and it easily tosses him aside, crashing into buildings, crowds—anything in the way. To your surprise, he always gets back up. And that should be good, right? They are fighting for the safety of the city.

But as debris rains down and cars are overturned, you can’t help but feel like this isn’t helping. You’re constantly dodging rubble, trying to find shelter, only for it to be destroyed seconds later. It’s like being in a war zone, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better.

And above it all, there’s a woman with red hair. She’s floating, and you watch from where you’re hiding as she lifts entire trees from their roots, hurling them at the monster in an attempt to slow it down. Except, much like her teammates, her attempt goes awry, and she misses, the trees now flying toward you.

You barely have the reflexes to dive out of the way.

Your heart races, breath coming in shallow bursts as you press yourself against a wall, trying to steady yourself. The sound of sirens blare in the distance, but it doesn’t seem like help is coming anytime soon. There’s too much going on. People are running, pushing each other aside, crying, screaming, trying to find safety.

Glancing around, you’re met with destruction—flames licking at the sidewalk, cars totaled, and building wreckage littering the streets. These mutants, while clearly powerful, are causing just as much destruction as the monster itself.

What should have been a simple takedown—a 6v1—has turned into a full-scale disaster.

And yet, they don’t stop. They don’t pause to help the people caught in the crossfire, don’t even seem to notice the damage they’re causing. They’re so focused on the monster, so focused on the fight, that they’ve lost sight of everything else.

Is this what heroism looks like? You’d been excited at first—amazed, even—thinking they were here to save the day. But now, standing in the middle of a city that’s being torn apart, you realize how wrong you were.

They don’t care. Not about the city. Not about the people.

Finally, with one last blast from the man with the visor, the monster collapses to the ground, defeated. It lets out a final roar before falling still, its massive body sprawled across the street.

The team stands over its body, their chests heaving with exertion, but they have smiles on their faces, feeling victorious. One by one, they board an aircraft, dragging the monster in with them, barely sparing a glance at the horrors they’ve caused. The white-haired woman doesn’t even bother to clear the storm clouds she summoned.

Within moments, they’re gone. You, and everyone else in the area, are left to deal with the fallout. Left to clean up their mess.

Happy birthday to me, I guess.

—

After that, you spend the next few days trying to process what had happened. You’re still in a state of shock, confusion, and disbelief, but then the media catches wind of what went down, and suddenly, it’s everywhere.

News channels replay the footage over and over, the headlines screaming about “our holy saviours” saving the day. They’re plastered across every screen, being hailed as protectors.

The X-Men.

A group of mutant superheroes, apparently. The reporters list them off one by one, like they’re celebrities you should have known about.

Storm. Cyclops. Wolverine. Jean Grey.

Mutants with powers like gods.

—

The second time you see them, you’re on vacation.

Sitting in a quaint café in the south of France, you’re enjoying a well-deserved break. The city you’re in is perfect—cobblestone streets winding through the village, vine-covered walls framing pastel-colored houses, and the scent of fresh bread drifting from nearby bakeries. It all feels like something out of a dream, the kind of peaceful retreat you’ve been desperate for after everything back home.

You order a frappé, and as you wait, you idly flip through a local newspaper, trying to see how much of your rusty high school French you can remember. It’s peaceful, quiet, exactly what you needed—until it’s not.

Movement out of the corner of your eye grabs your attention, and you glance over the edge of the newspaper, watching a group of tourists as they walk into the café. It’s not really anything odd, so you don’t think much of it—they’re dressed casually, like any group of vacationers.

Though, something about them tugs at the back of your mind, a nagging feeling that you’ve seen them before.

You lower the newspaper entirely now, staring as you try to place where you recognize them from. The tall one with the red sunglasses, the woman with the striking white hair, the man in the leather jacket... You squint, the pieces slowly falling into place.

And then it hits you.

Oh, no way.

You’re halfway around the world, in a different country, on a different continent, and somehow, they’re here. At the same café.

Shifting in your seat, you’re trying to figure out what the hell is going on, when the barista arrives with your drink. He smiles warmly at you, placing the cup down on the table with a soft “voila madame,” but before you can even thank him, there’s a blur of motion.

One of them—Wolverine, you think—lunges at the barista, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him back. The tray tips, and your frappé spills everywhere—all over the table, your newspaper, and, to your absolute horror, all over you.

“Logan, no!” you hear Storm shout, but it’s too late.

The cold drink soaks into your clothes, and you let out a startled yelp, jumping up as your chair topples over. Your clothes are ruined, your vacation ruined, and in the midst of all of this?

Wolverine—or Logan, you guess, is wrestling with the poor barista.

“What the hell?!” you shout, trying to shake off the liquid dripping down your legs. “Is this a joke?!”

No one hears you, or even acknowledges you.

The other mutants jump into action, and before you know it, the peaceful café is transformed into yet another battleground. Cyclops blasts a beam at the barista—who you now realize must be the target of whatever mission they’re on—but it misses, smashing into the wall behind you.

You’re furious, covered in a brown drink that makes it seem like you just had explosive diarrhea, and caught in yet another X-Men fiasco. All you wanted was a vacation. You don’t even know what’s happening anymore—who the barista is, what mission they’re on—but frankly, you don’t care.

This is absurd!

Without a second thought, you grab your bag and make a break for it, dodging overturned tables and debris as you make your way to the exit. You don’t bother looking back, your only thought being to get changed, and get as far away as possible.

After rounding the corner, putting some distance between yourself and the café, you pause for a moment to catch your breath. And then you hear it.

Boom.

The sound reverberates through the narrow streets, shaking the cobblestones beneath your feet. You whirl around, sticking your head out from the corner of the building, just in time to see a plume of smoke rising into the air from where the café once stood.

Your heart sinks.

They blew it up.

—

The third time you see them, it’s a really nice day outside.

It’s a week after you’ve returned home, and the weather had finally given you a break from the suffocating heat. You’re walking home from a lunch with an old friend, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Probably said friend sending you something stupid to laugh at later.

You chuckle, already anticipating the joke, when—

BAM!

Something slams into you from the side with the force of a freight train. You’re airborne for a second, weightless, before crashing hard onto the pavement, your breath knocked right out from your lungs.

Dazed, you groan and blink up at the sky, trying to get your bearings. What the hell just hit me? Your vision swims as you sit up, shoulder throbbing from the impact. Twisting your neck to see whatever the hell that was, you immediately regret it, wincing at the sharp pain.

Great, just great.

When you finally manage to sit up, you spot the culprit.

Cyclops.

Are you fucking serious?!

His back is to you, dusting off his ugly uniform like nothing happened. You look around, and notice that the street in front you is in ruins—buildings have gaping holes where windows used to be, chunks of the road are crumbling, people covered in blood scurrying away as fast as they can.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you catch a glimpse of the giant mechanical robots looming above, scanning for their targets. One of them must’ve thrown Cyclops into you.

You can see the others—Jean, Storm, Beast (some new guy)—flying around, saving the world. That’s codeword for: wreaking havoc, destroying your city.

Anger boils up inside you, hot and unrelenting as you struggle to your feet, rubbing your sore shoulder. But as you open your mouth, a gruff voice cuts through the air.

"Good job, dickhead. You just hurt a civilian."

Your gaze snaps toward the sound. Wolverine’s standing a few feet away, claws out, glaring at the guy who sent you flying.

“I was thrown, Logan,” he says passively. “Maybe if you kept the Sentinels off me—”

“Maybe if you didn’t stand there like a damn target, you wouldn’t get thrown!” The clawed mutant growls, taking a step closer. His whole posture is tense, like he’s barely holding himself back from tackling the other man into the ground (you would pay to have him do it). “Seriously, Summers, it’s like you want to get tossed around.”

Cyclops doesn’t even flinch. “We’ve got bigger problems than this right now,” he dismisses, not even glancing back at you to check if you’re okay.

Well, there goes the last of your patience.

"Are you kidding me?!" you shout, throwing your hands up in disbelief. They completely ignore you, too absorbed in their petty bickering to acknowledge that you’re still standing there, seething.

Before you can rip into them, something catches your eye—a Sentinel (is that what they’re called?), hovering above them, charging up a blast. Its arm is raised, energy crackling at the barrel of its cannon, aimed directly at the two distracted morons.

“Oh, for the love of—” you mutter under your breath before diving forward.

The blast hits you square in the chest, but instead of pain, all you feel is the heat of the energy surging through your body, like lightning spreading through every inch of your veins. It crackles and burns, the force building up inside you until it feels like you’re about to explode.

Then, with a deep breath, you thrust your hands forward, channeling and releasing the blast right back at the robot, blowing it apart. Metal and circuits rain down, the Sentinel crashing into the ground with a deafening thud.

Silence falls.

You’re panting, feeling the leftover energy fizzle out of your fingertips. Slowly, you turn back around, and unsurprisingly, Cyclops–or Scott, as you’ve heard in the news—and Logan are staring at you like you just walked on water. Well, the clawed one is. You can’t really see the other brown-haired man’s expression due to his visor.

“Woah, bub—”

“Oh, hell no!” You spin around fully, pointing an accusatory finger at both of them. “Neither of you get to speak! I just saved your asses because you were too busy bickering like children to notice the massive death robot about to blow you to pieces!”

Logan’s mouth quirks up, but he wisely stays silent.

“And this is exactly why I hate you people!” You continue, exasperated. “You swoop in, make a mess, destroy everything in your path, and then just leave like nothing happened! You think this is helping anyone? You think the people running for their lives right now give a damn about your little team squabbles?”

Scott doesn’t even blink. “We’re just trying to help,” he says evenly, like he’s rehearsed the line a thousand times.

“Help?” you scoff incredulously. “You only tell yourself you’re doing that to make yourself feel better. How many casualties do you think are coming out of this, hm? What’s the body count gonna be after today? Or do you not even bother counting anymore?”

His audacity makes you want to laugh. He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re not done.

"All this mess, the destroyed buildings, the people who won’t make it home tonight because you couldn’t keep your damn fight contained! You’re so focused on stopping the big bad guys that you don’t even realize how much carnage you leave behind. Who’s cleaning up after you? Who’s paying for this?! " You gesture around wildly. "News flash: the people whose lives you’re currently ruining!”

Beside him, Logan’s smirk fades, and he begins to step forward with his hands raised. “Listen, darlin’, we’re doin’ the best we can. We didn’t ask for this fight—”

"Oh, don’t give me that ‘best we can’ bullshit," you snap.

“We’re here to protect people,” Scott adds in, trying to maintain authority. “It’s not always clean, but we are making a difference—"

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not finished!” You interrupt, shaking your head. “Every day. Every damn day there’s something new.”

With the face Logan’s making, you’d think he’s going to start going in on you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to figure you out. It’s unnerving, but you don’t care. You’ve had enough.

"And you," you say, turning your ire toward him, "You couldn’t have, I don’t know, used your super speed or whatever the hell you do to catch him before he crashed into me?"

His eyebrow quirks up. “Super speed?” he chuckles lowly. “Ain’t that fast. Was a little busy with the giant killer robots.”

You tilt your head back in frustration and turn on your heel. "I’m done. I don’t care what kind of mission you’re on, or how noble you think it is. If you're planning to lay waste to the city yet again, be my guest.”

Giving no time for a response, you stalk off, weaving through the wreckage of the city streets, your heart still pounding in your chest.

—

A couple weeks have passed since the last incident, and the X-Men seem to have disappeared from the headlines. You haven’t seen them or heard their whereabouts splashed across the news like you’ve gotten used to—though not by choice, of course. Whenever they do anything, the world seems to bow at their feet.

You don’t get it.

The flashy suits, the team name, the way they strut around as if they’re the Gods of the mutant race. It’s too much, too loud. They act like they’re above it all, as if their powers and heroics put them on a pedestal. Better than those who prefer to lay low, who have no choice but to blend in.

You’ve spent years hiding your powers, keeping them buried deep where no one can see. When you were younger, you didn’t have a choice. Your mutation made you a target—bullied, beaten up, pushed around for being different.

You learned quickly that being a mutant didn’t make you special. It made you vulnerable.

So, you hid. You stayed quiet, under the radar. It was safer that way.

And then here are the X-Men, parading around like their abilities make them untouchable, like they’ve forgotten what it’s like for the rest of you. It’s not that you don’t believe in helping others—you just don’t believe in the way they do it.

In your opinion, it’s all performance. From what you’ve experienced and seen up close, they always arrive with a fanfare, ready to jump into action, and do whatever they can to exterminate the threat. Yet, when the dust settles, it’s mutants like you who are left to pick up the pieces.

The ones who don’t wear brightly coloured costumes or shout about unity. You’re the ones who have to keep moving, keep surviving, without any recognition.

But it's not like you need recognition. You never have. What you need is peace.

—

You’re on the phone with your mom, trying to reassure her for the millionth time this week.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, Mom, I’m fine," you say, pacing the length of your small living room. You glance at the muted TV screen, the news still cycling through the usual mayhem. "You’ve seen the news recently, right? We’ve got the X-Men to take care of all this stuff—"

Knock. Knock.

You freeze mid-sentence, your words trailing off as the sound of someone at your door interrupts the call. Your heart skips a beat, and your voice drops. "Mom, I’ll call you back."

Barely waiting for her to reply, you end the call, staring at the door like it might explode.

A knock at this hour? Unannounced? You waver, your mind racing with possibilities.

Delivery? A neighbour? You’re not expecting anyone.

Cautiously, you make your way toward the door, hand hovering over the handle as you listen. No more knocks, just the faint hum of the outside world. You take a breath, steeling yourself as you turn the handle and crack the door open.

The tufts of hair, the thick stubble, the edge in his eyes—it’s him. Wolverine. And just as your brain registers his face, you also notice the glint of metal where his claws are already halfway out.

Instincts kick in, and before he can get a word in, you push against the door, trying to slam it shut.

Still, he’s faster.

His fist punches through the wood, and with a metallic snikt, his claws extend fully, slicing through the door as if it were made of paper. He pushes it open again, forcing it against your effort, and the sheer strength sends you stumbling back.

“What the fuck?” you gasp, eyes wide as you steady yourself. “How did you even find me?”

Stepping inside, he says, “picked up your scent and followed it,” matter-of-factly, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

For a moment, you just stare at him, dumbfounded. “That’s… that’s actually really creepy,” you manage, still trying to process the fact that he just said that without a hint of shame.

“Can’t control it, bub,” he shrugs.

You take a step back, putting more distance between you and the man with the claws standing in your apartment. “Okay, well, you found me. Now what?”

His eyes lock onto yours. “I need you to come with me.”

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

“You’re not safe here.”

“Oh, I’m not safe?” you snap, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Maybe if you and your merry band of idiots didn’t keep causing world-ending disasters, I wouldn’t need to be safe!”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Sentinels are tracking you down.”

You falter. “What are you talking about?”

“You used your powers,” he states. “Killed a Sentinel. That’s all it takes for them to target you.”

Blinking, you feel anger rush to the surface, your skin tingling with rage. “I didn’t kill anyone. They’re fucking robots.”

“They don’t see it that way,” he counters. “You took one down, and now they know what you are.”

Part of you knows there’s merit in what he’s saying, but you don’t want to hear it. The last thing you want is to be dragged into some mutant-robot war. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t ask for any of this!” you hiss, glaring at him. “And now you’re telling me I’m on some kill list because I defended myself? Because I defended you?!”

His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite read, but he stays silent, watching you carefully. Your words start flying faster now, venom spilling into each one.

“I’m the one who took that thing down because you and that one-eyed bitch boy were too busy being immature! You weren’t even paying attention, and that thing almost blasted you both.” Your fingers ball into fists. "I saved both of you, and now I’m the one who has to run?"

Logan's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring at the accusation. “We weren’t—”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” you cut him off. “If it weren’t for me, the two of you would be dead right now. And now I’m supposed to just go with you to your mansion and hide out? Like that’s going to fix th—”

You don’t get to end your rant, because he has stepped forward, and grabbed your shoulders, gripping you firmly. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to snap your attention back to him.

“This is serious,” he spits, eyes boring into yours. “You stay here, you die.”

His words slam into you. He’s not trying to scare you—he’s telling the truth.

“You don’t get to be stubborn about this,” he continues firmly. “You think you’re pissed off now? Wait until they come crashin' through your door in the middle of the night, and you don’t have a chance to fight back.”

Wrenching yourself out of his grasp, you take a few steps back. “I just—” you begin to say, but the words feel tangled in your throat. The denial is still there, but it’s weakening, cracking. “I don’t want to run.”

“You’re not running,” he sighs, his voice softening ever so slightly. “You’re buying time. Time to fight back, time to survive. But if you stay here? There’s none of that.”

You want to argue more, want to scream at him to get away, to not drag you into his fight, but instead, you let out a long, shaky breath, your shoulders slumping. “Fine,” you breath out.

He nods, finally releasing his grip on you and stepping back. “Good. Pack up your shit. We leave in half an hour.”

Then, he walks over to your couch and plops down like he owns the place, crossing his arms as if settling in for a casual wait.

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath. “Unbelievable.”

Ignoring him, you turn and head into your bedroom, where you start throwing clothes into a duffel bag—jeans, a couple of shirts, whatever you can grab quickly. Your movements are hurried, fuelled by a mix of frustration and the creeping anxiety gnawing at the edges of your mind. Grabbing your toiletries, you stuff them into a smaller bag, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that some random mutant tracked you down, and now you have to leave your life until you’re safe.

You peer back into the hallway, hearing the faint creak of the couch as Logan shifts around. I’m gonna kill this guy, you think to yourself.

Once everything is packed and you’ve zipped your bag, you head back into the main room, only to see said random mutant still sprawled on your couch, looking far too comfortable, with a cigar in his hand.

“Seriously?” you say, slinging your duffel over your shoulder. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you.”

He grunts in response but doesn’t move. Typical.

You glance at the clock—still a few minutes left of the half-hour he allotted you, but there’s no point in dragging it out. “I’m ready,” you say flatly, heading toward the door.

Logan stands, stretches his arms over his head, and cracks his neck like he’s waking up from a nap. “Let’s go then.”

—

The ride is tense and quiet, which suits you just fine. You’d rather not talk to him anyway. Every now and then, you let out a loud sigh, unable to hold back the annoyance you’re feeling. Each time, you feel Logan’s eyes dart toward you from the driver’s seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Well, that is, until—

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he growls, keeping his eyes on the road.

You clench your jaw, shifting in your seat. “I didn’t even say anything, jackass.”

He huffs, clearly not in the mood for an argument, but the strain between you is almost impossible to ignore. You cross your arms, staring out the window, observing the landscape shift as the drive continues.

Eventually, you can see the outline of the mansion, and you watch as it gets bigger and bigger the closer you get. Upon arrival, He pulls the car up to the front and cuts the engine. You both sit there for a moment, mute.

“Well, here we are,” he mumbles after the pause stretches on for an uncomfortable amount of time, glancing over at you.

“Great,” you say sarcastically, unbuckling your seatbelt and pushing open the car door.

Logan walks ahead without saying a word, leading the way up the grand stone steps toward the front door. You trail behind, your mood darkening with every step, glaring at the perfectly polished entrance.

The doors open before you even reach them, and you’re greeted by an older man in a wheelchair—Charles Xavier, if you remember correctly. The famous telepath. The genius behind the mutant team (some news anchor's words, not yours). His expression is kind, but you’re in such a bad mood, you don’t even bother trying to seem polite.

“Welcome,” He says with a warm smile, his eyes assessing you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. “Logan’s told me a lot about you.”

You press your lips together in a line. “Yeah? Well, don’t get too excited.”

Logan grunts beside you. “She’s got a bit of an attitude,” he mutters to Charles, then turns to you, gesturing you to follow him. “Come on.”

Inwardly groaning, you have no choice but to follow him. Everything about this place screams “too good to be true,” and you hate it already. You’re used to keeping your head down, blending in, not being surrounded by people who wear their powers on their sleeves like some badge of honour.

As you walk through the halls, a few faces appear—other mutants, some of them kids, watching curiously as you pass by. You can feel their eyes on you, can hear the whispers already starting about the new arrival.

Charles wheels alongside you, still smiling, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You remind me of Logan when he first joined us,” he says thoughtfully.

That stops you in your tracks.

You whip your head toward the man, giving him a piercing look. “Do not say that. We are nothing alike.”

On your other side, Logan smirks. “Not sure if I should be offended or not.”

“I’m serious.” If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under.

Chucking softly, Charles seems completely unaffected by your outburst. “You’re both a bit rough around the edges, but you’ll find your place here.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “Because that’s exactly what I want to do.”

Deeper into the mansion, you catch sight of the X-Men you’ve seen before: Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey. They all turn to look at you, sizing you up. You don’t flinch—you just stare back, your expression hard.

Pulling your duffel bag higher on your shoulder, you rip your eyes away from theirs, and keep walking, following Logan down the long, quiet hallway. Finally, he stops in front of a door.

“This is your room,” he grunts, nodding toward it. “Try not to break anything.”

Choosing silence, you push the door open. Stepping inside, you expect the bare minimum—a bed, maybe a closet—but instead, you’re met with a surprisingly large space. There’s a massive bed in the center of the room, a desk by the window, and, to your surprise, a set of glass doors leading out to a balcony.

You drop your bag by the door, glancing around, trying to shake off the unease. This is way too nice for a prisoner. You walk toward the balcony doors, curious despite yourself, and when you pull them open, the cool breeze hits you immediately.

Once you’re outside, you realize something that immediately makes your stomach drop.

The balcony is shared. And right next to your side, leaning against the railing with a cigar between his fingers, is Logan.

You halt mid-motion, eyes fixed on him in stunned silence. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He glances over, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a drag of his cigar. “Surprise.”

You groan, turning your back on him and walking toward the opposite edge of the balcony, trying to calm the annoyance inside you. Of all the people you could’ve been stuck beside, it had to be him. It’s not enough that he dragged you here, but now there’s a chance you’re going to have to see him every time you step outside.

“So what now?” you mutter, staring out over the mansion grounds, the manicured gardens below looking like something out of a postcard. “I’m just supposed to stay here, be a part of your little mutant club?”

Taking another slow pull on his cigar, “You’re supposed to stay alive. Everythin’ else? That’s up to you.”

“But why do you suddenly care?” you ask. “I’ve seen the way you operate. You and your team sweep in, fight your battles, and then leave everyone else in the dirt. You don’t care about the collateral damage—hell, you cause half of it.”

Logan pauses, his cigar halfway to his lips. He doesn’t answer right away, and the brief hesitation only makes your irritation spike. You press on, inching closer, voice laced with accusation.

“Why now?” you press. “Why drag me into this when you’ve never cared about anyone else in the crossfire?”

Logan finally turns to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke before speaking, his expression hardened. “This ain’t about me ‘caring,’” he says flatly. “This is about survival. You killed a Sentinel, whether you like it or not. That puts a target on your back.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that very clear,” you bite out. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Why me? Why am I suddenly important to you?”

Logan’s eyes darken, drilling into yours. “You’re not important to me,” he says flatly. “But they won’t stop until they get you. The destruction that’ll come from that—if your stubborn ass fought back, which I know it would, by the way—would be much greater than anything we would cause.”

“Doubt that,” you snarl bitterly. You don’t linger for the sound of his response, spinning on your heel and walking back into your room, slamming the balcony door behind you.

The bed is large and you can’t deny how inviting it looks after the day you’ve had. You flop onto it face-first, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.

You’re barely able to reflect on the chaotic day you’ve had before your eyelids flutter shut, and you sink into a deep slumber, the exhaustion from everything catching up to you.

—

You’re jolted awake by a loud, aggressive knock on your bedroom door. The sound is so forceful it feels like the entire frame is rattling. You release a sound, half groan, half sigh, steeped in frustration. Your face is still buried in your pillow, and you curse whoever decided to ruin what little sleep you managed to get.

“Get up,” Logan’s gruff voice calls from the other side of the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast in ten.”

Ah yes. Of-fucking-course it's him. Who else would it be?

Dragging yourself out of bed, you throw on some clothes and make a half-hearted attempt to fix your hair before opening the door, ready to curse him, but he's already striding down the hallway, hardly bothering to check if you're following. You roll your eyes, your steps slow and begrudging as you move to follow

As you catch up, you can’t help but throw him a sideways glare. “Why are you acting like my personal bodyguard?”

“Gotta make sure you don’t do anything reckless.”

You scoff, crossing your arms as you fall into step beside him. “You don’t even know what I can do.”

Logan’s lips twitch into a lazy smirk, and you immediately want to wipe it off his face. “Exactly,” he says, his tone almost amused. “Which is why today, we’re gonna test you.”

You stop in your tracks, staring at his back. “Test me? What the hell does that mean?”

He stops too, turning to face you. “Means you’re gonna show me what you’re capable of.”

Teeth clenched, you feel the slow rise of aggravation mingling with apprehension. “I’m not some science experiment.”

“No,” he agrees, “but you’re not a regular person, either. You need to know your limits—and how to handle what’s coming.”

Groaning, you drag your hands down your face incredulously. “I don’t even know what to say back to that. All I know is that I’m hungry.”

—

The kitchen of Xavier’s mansion is bustling with activity as the two of you walk in. The rest of the team is gathered around a large table at the centre of the room, and you spot Jean, Cyclops, Storm, and a few others sitting together, chatting, but you feel no desire to join them.

Rather, you gravitate toward a smaller table by the window, hoping to get some peace while you choke down breakfast. The chair scrapes lightly as you pull it out and sit down, fully expecting to be left alone.

But to your surprise, Logan follows and plops down in the seat across from you.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs and digs into his food. "Eating. You got a problem with that?"

You cast a quick look toward the large table where the rest of the team sits. It feels strange, having him eat with you, especially when the rest of his team is so obviously waiting for him to join them.

"No," you murmur, shaking your head as you return to your plate. "Just didn’t think you’d stray from the flock."

“They’re fine without me.”

You push your food around with your fork, trying to push past the heavy air of discomfort in the room. Everyone keeps glancing in your direction, and you sense their curiosity, the questions hovering in silence, but no one has the courage to ask. And honestly, you’re grateful for the space.

Just as you’re finishing up, a low voice catches your attention.

"I just don’t understand why they brought her here," Jean’s voice carries across the room, quieter than before, but still clear enough for you to hear. “She doesn’t seem like she has what it takes. It’s like they’re bringing in someone who’s—” She pauses, clearly thinking through her words. "Unstable. Weak.”

Tensing, your fork clatters onto your plate. The world around you dulls, and all you can hear is that word echoing in your head. Weak. You’ve been called a lot of things in your life, but never that.

Slowly, you push your chair back and stand up as you turn to face the table where she and the others are seated. “Say it louder, please,” you say calmly.

The chatter dies instantly, and suddenly, every set of eyes in the room finds you. Jean's face turns ashen, her eyes blown wide in shock. She wasn’t expecting you to overhear. Her mouth opens and closes, as if she’s trying to find a way to backtrack, but you know what you heard.

Before Jean can stammer out an excuse, Scott stands up, positioning himself between you and her, his jaw tight and his posture rigid. “You heard wrong,” he says sternly. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

You take a calculated step forward, arms crossed in defiance. “Didn’t mean anything?” you repeat sarcastically. “She just called me weak. Right here. In front of everyone. You think I’m gonna let that slide?”

Scott’s jaw clenches tighter “She wasn’t trying to insult you. You’re new here. You don’t know how things work yet.”

“That’s the excuse?” you laugh dryly. “Maybe you should teach her how to keep her mouth shut instead of making assumptions about people she doesn’t know.”

If even possible, the friction between you swells, growing heavier with each passing second. Everyone in the room watches the standoff, some shifting uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of what’s going to happen next. You can feel Logan’s presence behind you, but he doesn’t interfere. He’s letting you handle this.

“You don’t belong here,” Scott states, like he’s trying to remind you of your place. “You’re not part of this team, and you sure as hell don’t understand what it takes to survive here.”

Raising an eyebrow, your lips curl into a smirk. “And what are you gonna do about it, One-eye? You gonna lecture me? Or better yet, why don’t you blast me with those laser eyes of yours? Show me how strong you are.”

His fists clench, and for a moment, you see the control slip. His visor glows red, just for a split second, as his anger spikes.

"Careful," you taunt, challenging him. "Wouldn’t want to lose control, would you? I'm sure you've never done that before."

That does it.

A beam shoots out from Scott’s visor. Fast, ferocious, and headed straight for you. There’s a collective gasp from the others, chairs scraping as people push back, shocked by the sudden escalation. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, your eyes locked onto Scott’s as the beam strikes you square in the chest.

You’re not knocked back, or worse, killed, as the energy from the blast surges into you. The energy seeps into your bones, crackling through every nerve. Your skin tingles as the power courses through you, your body absorbing every ounce of it. Once the assault is over, you raise your head, feeling your eyes and veins begin to glow with a deep, burning red.

Jean’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Unfortunately for you, you don't get the chance to blow him to pieces, because Logan flies forward and grabs your arm, pulling you out of the room. Nobody else moves—too stunned—as he drags you into the hallway. You blink your eyes, the glow fading, but you can feel the residual energy from Scott’s blast still buzzing under your skin.

Both out of sight, he finally releases you.

You glare at him, still rattled from the confrontation. “What the hell? Why'd you interfere?”

He just shrugs, completely unfazed. “You handled yourself enough. Now we know what you can do. Follow me.”

“Follow you where?” you ask.

He motions down the hallway. “Danger Room. We’re gonna push those limits a little further.”

Gawking at him for a second, it takes a moment, but then you smirk. You want to know just how far your powers can go.

—

“Fuck!” you curse as you’re flung backward, your body slamming against a stone wall. Your back hits hard, knocking the wind out of you as the simulated-Sentinel hurls a car in your direction. The screech of metal fills the air as the vehicle crashes just mere inches from where you were standing moments ago.

Rubble showers from above, the robot in front of you towering menacingly. Raising its arm, another blast begins charging in its palm, ready to incinerate you.

You scramble to your feet, heart pounding in your chest as you sprint away, ducking and weaving between the wreckage of cars and crumbling buildings that make up the simulated cityscape. The Sentinel fires again, the blast narrowly missing as you dodge behind an overturned truck. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, every muscle screaming in protest.

I can’t keep this up.

Another blast lights up the area around you, and you dive out of the way, the heat of the attack singeing your skin. You’re quick, but not quick enough to outrun the onslaught from this machine.

Then it hits you—you don’t have to outrun it.

You remember the blast from way back, how your body absorbed the energy, and how in the dining hall, you took on Scott’s beam like it was nothing. You can do it again. You can take its power and turn it back on itself.

Gritting your teeth, you stop running. The air buzzes with electricity, the earth trembling beneath you as the next shot hurtles your way.

It hammers into your chest, and once again, your body is filled with energy. In an instant, you leap into the air, propelled by the newfound strength coursing through your body, and the ground disappears beneath you as you soar upward.

At the peak of your jump, you clench your fist, channeling all that power into one focused point. Then, you bring your fist down on the Sentinel’s head, the impact echoing through the simulation as your punch connects, and the robot’s head shatters under the blow, metal fragments flying in every direction as its massive body crumples to the ground.

Sparks shoot out of its severed neck, and with a final groan of machinery, the robot collapses into a heap of broken parts at your feet.

“Good work,” Logan’s voice crackles over the comms, far too calm for what you’ve just been through. “Let’s see how you handle another.”

There’s no time for more than a muttered curse under your breath, because another Sentinel is dropped into the simulation. This one’s faster, more agile, and doesn’t waste time by charging up blasts.

It exists solely to hunt you down.

“Cut me some slack,” you groan, half out of breath as you duck behind the ruins of a building. Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, adrenaline coursing through you like a wildfire.

This one isn’t like the last. It’s not using energy blasts—it’s fast, agile, and persistent. It rushes toward you, its massive hands swiping through the air, tearing through the simulated city with ease.

Grinding your teeth, a wave of exasperation takes over. This fight is harder, the machine barely giving you a chance to react, and your body is already starting to wear down. Your mind races, desperate for a solution as you sidestep its attacks, trying to stay one step ahead. You feel cornered, trapped.

The frustration builds, growing into something more, and before you realize it, that frustration becomes fuel. It ignites inside you, your own emotions transforming into energy, pushing past the limits you didn’t know you had.

Your veins pulse, your eyes glowing white this time, not from absorbed power but from something deeper—your own anger, your own strength. The energy bubbles inside you, filling every cell of your body until you can’t hold it back anymore.

With a scream, you release it, propelling a massive ball of crackling energy hurling toward the Sentinel. The impact is immediate, ripping through the metal and bursting into a brilliant, blinding light. It sends shockwave through the entire simulation, the machine imploding, its parts scattering across the battlefield.

And when the light fades, the Sentinel is gone—nothing more than a smouldering heap of twisted metal.

You stand there, chest heaving, the glow in your eyes slowly fading as the last traces of energy drain from your body. Your knees buckle, and before you know it, you crumble to the ground, utterly exhausted.

The simulation flickers for a moment, then abruptly shuts off, the room returning to its normal, metallic walls as the fake cityscape disappears. You’re still on the floor, gasping for breath, when Logan steps into view, arms crossed as he peers down at you with a pleased grin.

“Well,” he says, voice calm, “that wasn’t too bad.”

You shoot him a glare from the ground, too tired to move. “You… are such… an asshole.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Get up. We’re just getting started.”

—

He was right. You were just getting started.

The thought gnaws at you as you trudge alongside Logan, heading back to your room to clean up before dinner. Every muscle in your body aches, and you can already feel the soreness creeping in, promising a week of pain. You’re starting to suspect this is Logan’s way of getting back at you for all the snark and attitude you’ve thrown his way, but damn, is it painful. You don’t even want to think about how much worse you’re going to feel in the morning.

You feel like a zombie, dragging your feet, barely able to keep your eyes open. Your limbs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead, and each step invites fresh wave of exhaustion through your body. The man with you, of course, seems perfectly fine. He walks a few steps ahead of you, not even winded from the grueling day of combat drills, sparring, and whatever else he thought up to make sure you were put through the wringer.

“Maybe I should be a little nicer to you,” you rationalize, but who are you kidding.

With a terse grunt, he acknowledges you by tilting his head back. “You’ll live.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted at best. You don’t even have the energy to be annoyed right now.

Upon reaching your room, you feel like you could collapse right then and there. You mumble something vaguely resembling ‘see you later’ to Logan before slipping inside, the door clicking shut behind you.

The first thing you do is toss your bag onto the floor, not caring where it lands, and head straight for the bathroom. You peel off your sweaty, dirt-covered clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime of the day.

After that quick, blissful shower, you drag yourself out, towel off, and pull on the first comfortable clothes you can find. Your bed is calling to you, and it doesn’t take long for you to lie down on it. The softness of the mattress beneath you is heaven, and you think you might just fall asleep right there and take a small nap before heading to eat.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the light pouring in through the balcony doors. The warm, golden glow of the setting sun catches your attention, and despite how drained you are, you find yourself turning to look.

What you see is breathtaking. Shades of pink, orange, and deep purple.

It’s too beautiful to ignore.

Groaning again, you force yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes. You can’t help it. Something about the sight draws you in, and before you know it, you’re standing and heading toward the balcony. You slide the door open and step outside, the evening breeze washing over you as you lean against the railing, taking in the view.

A few minutes pass, the world around you quiet except for the gentle rustling of the leaves in the wind. The sound of Logan’s door sliding breaks your focus. You glance over just as he steps out onto his side of the shared balcony, wearing nothing but a white tank top and jeans.

Saying nothing, he steps beside you at the railing, resting against it as his eyes scan the horizon.

You sneak a look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to make it obvious. His arms are crossed over the railing, and it’s almst impossible not to notice the way the tank top lets you see his biceps, the muscles in his arms strong from the day’s activity. You are a woman, after all.

He looks relaxed. His stubble catches the last bits of the sunlight, and as your gaze travels upward, you notice something you hadn’t bothered to see before.

The crinkles at the sides of his eyes. They’re faint, barely there, but in this light, they’re more visible, adding something unexpectedly... soft to his otherwise intimidating appearance.

Cute, you think absentmindedly, then pause.

What the fuck?

You snap your gaze back to the sunset, feeling a sudden surge of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You just spent the entire day getting your ass handed to you by this man, and now you’re here checking out his arms? His arms? And thinking the crinkles around his eyes are cute? Suppressing a groan, you want to slap yourself for even entertaining the thought.

Nope. Absolutely not. You’re not going down that road.

Taking a deep breath, you try to bring your attention back to the sunset. The reason you went outside to begin with. You have no idea why you’re suddenly noticing these things about him—probably exhaustion making your brain short-circuit.

Yup. That’s it.

He shifts slightly beside you, breaking the silence. “Nice view"

You nod, swallowing down the weird feelings swirling in your head. “Yeah,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to say anything more without sounding ridiculous.

The two of you stand there for a few more minutes, watching as the last rays of the sun disappear, the sky dimming into deep purples and blues. But the minute your thoughts start to drift back to him, you straighten up, clapping your hands together and quickly turning on your heel to head back inside.

“Well, I’m done,” you say abruptly. “I’m gonna crash.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you can feel his eyes following you as you slide the door closed behind you, your mind still reeling from whatever the hell that was.

Collapsing back onto your bed, you pull the covers up to your chin, determined to forget about the whole thing.

—

A few hours later, when it’s dark out, you finally wake up. The room is dim, and for a moment, you just lie there, blinking at the ceiling. As you start to roll over, something catches your attention—a smell.

It's warm, savoury. Your stomach growls almost immediately, making you realize with a start that you slept through dinner.

Groggily, you sit up, rubbing your eyes, and that’s when you spot it—a tray of food sitting on the desk in your room. You can make out the outline of a warm meal: some kind of stew, a couple of bread rolls, and what looks like a glass of water. Your stomach growls again, louder this time, as you climb out of bed and shuffle toward the desk, turning on the light.

Next to the tray, there’s a small note:

Figured you’d be too tired to get dinner. Eat up.

– L

You stare at the note. Logan? Bringing you food? It doesn’t exactly fit with the version of him you’ve been dealing with all day, but then again, there seems to be a lot about him that doesn’t quite fit the mold you expected.

Too hungry to keep thinking and not eat, you set the note down and grab the spoon, dipping it into the stew. The first bite warms you from the inside out, and you let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

Surprisingly flavourful—rich and nourishing, it’s the perfect remedy for the exhausting day behind you

Still, you can’t help your eyes from wandering back to the note. Maybe it really is the fatigue messing with your head again, making you chalk it up to be something it’s not.

—

The next morning, you're not woken up by banging on your door, which is a relief. You stretch, the soreness still lingering but not nearly as bad as you expected. After freshening up and pulling on some clothes, you step into the hallway, and unexpectedly, Logan is already waiting for you.

He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and you blink at him, still waking up, unsure why he’s there. “Uh... morning?” you get out, albeit you can’t hide the confusion in your tone.

A short nod in greeting. “Morning. Ready for breakfast?”

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to take the plunge. “Yeah I am, but…um, thanks for the food last night, it was good.” you say quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it.

The gesture had caught you off guard, and though you don’t want to make a fuss, it’s worth noting

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugs casually.

Nodding in understanding, you’re ready to move on when he adds, almost offhandedly, “Y’know, you’re actually kinda pretty when you’re asleep. Not being a little shit helps.”

You freeze mid-step, your mind short-circuiting for a moment as you process the words that just left his lips.

Flustered and irritated all at once, you glare at him. “Excuse me?”

Logan smirks, the corners of his mouth twitching as he starts walking down the hall toward the kitchen. “You heard me.”

Your face heats up. “I am not a little shit,” you yelp, quickening your pace to catch up to him.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, gazing at you from over his shoulder. You open your mouth to fire back, but the smug look in his eyes makes you hesitate.

He’s messing with you on purpose.

Asshole, you think, fuming but trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped when he called you pretty.

—

The kitchen goes silent the moment you and Logan step through the door, a noticeable difference from yesterday. All eyes are locked on you, the pressure in the room almost solid, begging to be cut through.

Students and X-Men alike are watching, probably expecting some kind of replay of the day prior's events, but you pay them no mind, keeping your eyes straight ahead and making a beeline for a table at the back.

You drop into a seat, picking up a piece of toast and acting like the room isn’t on high alert. Logan joins you again without a word, sitting across from you and digging into his food. He doesn’t even glance at the others, as if the room full of curious onlookers doesn’t exist.

The only sounds are the clink of silverware and voices slowly picking up again as people realize nothing dramatic is about to happen.

Chewing, you glance at the man across from you, still quietly working through his meal. You swallow, then clear your throat. “So... what’s the plan for today?”

He looks up from his plate. “Charles wants to see you this morning.”

You frown, unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Why? Did I break something without knowing it?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “No, you’re not in trouble, smartass. He’s just gonna fill you in on some things. Mainly the Sentinels.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You need to know what you’re up against, what we’re all dealing with. He’ll catch you up to speed.”

“Great,” you mutter. “More bad news.”

The clawed mutant leans back in his chair, watching you for a moment before speaking again. “Look, it’s not gonna be fun, but you need to know. Better to hear it from him than from me.”

“I’ll take that as your way of saying ‘good luck,” you breathe out.

He smirks. “You’re gonna need it.”

Logan finishes his meal and stands up, leaving his empty plate behind. “I’ll drop you off at Charles’s office. You’ll be with him for the morning.”

You follow suit, pushing away your half-eaten plate. “Fantastic,” you mumble sarcastically, but at the same time, you know this is necessary. After all, the threat you’re dealing with is real, and being ignorant about it won’t do you any good.

—

“So, how can they be stopped?”

You ask the question before you even sit down. Charles is already waiting for you in his office, his hands folded neatly on the desk, his gaze calm and soft.

He takes a measured breath, glancing toward the window for a moment before responding. “Stopping the Sentinels is... complicated. They’ve grown more advanced than we ever anticipated.”

“I gathered that.”

“They are highly adaptive machines,” he continues. “Designed to hunt and neutralize mutants, they learn from every encounter. They absorb information, adjust tactics, and over time, they become more effective.”

His words make you squirm with discomfort, and you glance around the room, trying to distract yourself from the knot forming in your stomach.

“And now I’m one of their targets,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him.

Leaning forward slightly, he says, “Yes. They’ve already locked onto you because of your encounter with them. They don’t differentiate between self-defence and aggression. They see you as a target, simply because you fought back.”

You exhale sharply. “So, what’s your plan?”

Charles meets your gaze. “There is a command center—a hub that controls their network. If we can locate it and destroy it, we believe it will disrupt the entire Sentinel operation. Without the command structure, the Sentinels will become non-functional.”

You stare for a beat, mentally piecing together the details. “You believe?”

“It’s our best theory,” he says evenly. “We’ve been gathering intel for some time now. And we’re planning a mission. A final push to put an end to this threat once and for all.”

The words linger, thick and weighty, in the space between you, You can sense where this is going. Your fingers drum against your arm, a nervous habit you can’t seem to shake.

“You want me to be a part of it.”

He remains unfazed. “I believe you have an ability that could be crucial to the mission. You’ve already demonstrated your capability against the Sentinels in training yesterday, and in real life.”

A bitter scoff escapes your lips before you can stifle it. “Yeah, but I’m not one of you. I don’t want to be part of some... grand battle. That’s not me.”

Watching you closely, his gaze is soft with comprehension. “I understand your reluctance,” he says gently. “But running, hiding... it won’t change the fact that they will find you. Fighting may not have been your choice, but now it is your reality.”

Standing, you begin to pace the room. “This is exactly the problem I have with your team,” you say, stopping near the window, staring out at the garden. “We hardly know eachother, yet you want me to be part of some mission that could very well be catastophic. It’s like you don’t care about anything except the big picture.”

Charles’s expression doesn’t change. He definitely expected this. “We aren’t perfect,” he admits, “and our battles have left scars. But this is about survival. For all of us. For you.”

Turning back to face him, you narrow your eyes. “And if I say no?”

“I won’t force you,” His voice is understanding. “The choice is yours. But know that the Sentinels will not stop. You can avoid the fight for as long as you like, but eventually, it will come to you.”

It’s as if you're stuck, with nowhere to turn, cornered by a reality you didn’t want any part of. Avoiding it doesn’t seem like an option anymore, but fighting alongside the X-Men feels like betraying everything you’ve tried to distance yourself from.

Sighing, “I’ll think about it.”

—

When you get back to your room, the first thing you do is swing open your balcony door and step outside. The afternoon sun comes over you like a blanket, warming you up, and relieving some of the strain in your muscles. Logan is out on the balcony too, leaning against the railing, a cigar lit between his fingers. It’s a sight you think you should get used to.

His eyes flick to you when you approach, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Without a word, he holds the roll of tobacco out toward you, as if he knows exactly what’s on your mind.

You pause briefly, for just a second before taking it from him. The rich, earthy taste of the cigar fills your mouth as you inhale deeply, the smoke heavy and warm in your lungs. There’s something grounding about it, even though the burn is rough against your throat. You let out a slow exhale, watching the smoke curl into the night air as you lean next to him against the railing.

“How’d it go?” he asks gruffly.

“He wants me to join you guys on the mission.”

At first, Logan doesn’t react, then, he just takes the cigar back, puffing on it and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “What do you want to do?”

It’s the same question that’s been clawing at your insides since you left Charles’s office. What do you want? It feels like the answer should be simple, but it’s anything but.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I want to get rid of the threat and go back to my normal life, but if I do, then I'd just become the very thing I'm against, right? I can’t join you guys, that’s not who I am.”

He hums softly.

Shifting a bit, you try to find the words to explain the knot of irritation tangled inside you. “I get it, you know? I get why you guys do what you do. Someone has to. But the way you do it—so carefree about everything. It’s like the destruction, the people, the lives caught in the midst of everything—it doesn’t even phase you.”

“We don’t do it carefree,” he says lowly. Inhaling into the cigar once more, the tip glowing red. “But sometimes, you gotta make a choice between bad and worse. People get hurt. But if we don’t stop the threats, a lot more people are gonna die.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest. “And that’s what I hate about it.”

Flicking the ash from the end of his cigar, his eyes are distant, lost in thought momentarily before he responds. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say it’s easy. It ain’t. We all carry the weight of the things we’ve done—the things we couldn’t stop. But if not us, then who?”

“That’s an impossible decision,” you say. There’s no way you can go into this fight, knowing how much of a toll it’s going to take on everything. The fight itself is such a small piece to the puzzle.

Logan leans his elbows on the railing. “You think I wanted this?” he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I was just like you. Didn’t want nothin’ to do with the team or their battles.”

The comparison makes you grimace. “Great. That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

He chuckles, the sound rough but not unkind. “I’m serious, bub. For years, I didn’t want to be part of this... circus. Figured I’d be better off on my own, that I was above it all.”

You quirk a brow. “Then what changed?”

“It’s not like a switch flipped,” he replies, a bit quieter. “I just realized that fighting alone is harder than fighting with a team. The X-Men... they gave me somethin’. A place. Belonging. Doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do, but it’s better than wanderin’.”

That makes you scoff. “Yeah, well, you heard it yourself. Scott said I don’t belong here. Jean thinks I’m weak. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘welcome to the team,’ does it?”

His brow furrows, his eyes narrowing, as he straightens and looks at you. “Scott talks too much, and Jean—she’s cautious. Doesn’t mean she’s right.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s wrong either,” you mumble. “They don’t trust me.”

“They didn’t trust me when I first joined either, but you get better. You learn.”

“I don’t want to be like you,” you hiss before you can stop yourself, and you immediately regret the heat in your words.

He doesn’t look offended—just tired. “Didn’t say you should,” he starts. “But you can’t keep shunnin’ us.”

“So what do I do now?”

Taking one last drag of his cigar before flicking it over the balcony railing, Logan watches the embers fall before he speaks. “The mission’s in a week. You’ve got that long to figure it out.”

He turns to leave, but before he goes, he glimpses at you from over his shoulder. “This battle, it’s inevitable. Question is—how do you want to face it?”

—

You’ve never been so conflicted. This choice–to join, or not to join—is probably the hardest decision you’ve had to make in your entire life. You have seen first hand what happens when the X-men decide to stop a threat. What innocent people have to go through to rebuild their lives from the ground up. Both literally and figuratively.

And to then become someone who causes that pain? It feels like betrayal. Like going against yourself—your morals.

But then there’s the other side of it—the part of you that knows sitting here, doing nothing, isn’t right either. You know you have the strength to fight back. You have the power to help. And doing nothing… doesn’t that make you just as bad? If you have the ability to stop something, to protect people, and you don’t—what does that make you?

It’s a lose-lose situation. The X-Men don’t even want you there—aside from Logan and Charles. You can see it in the way their eyes follow you wherever you go, untrusting. They’ve made their opinion on you clear.

You lower your head into your hands, stressed. You can’t join a team that doesn’t want you, but sitting on the sidelines when you could be fighting—that makes you feel like a coward. And maybe even worse—a bad person.

Finally, with a deep breath, you come to a decision. It’s not perfect, and it sure as hell doesn’t feel good, but it’s the only choice you can make right now. You’ll join them—for this mission only.

You’ll help take down the Sentinels, and then, when it’s done, you’ll leave. You’ll go back to your life, maybe you can find a middle ground, where you’re not one of them, but you’re no longer hiding from the mutant part of yourself.

If something happens, if you do something you regret, then you'll just have to live with it.

—

In the afternoon, you don’t do much. You were supposed to be training with Logan, but Charles had called him into a quick meeting, leaving you to wander the halls aimlessly.

Rounding a corner, you stop short when you see the rest of the team—Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Hank—talking near a meeting room. They’re deep in conversation, but as soon as you come into view, their attention shifts toward you.

Your stomach tightens, and for a brief second, you consider just turning around and walking in the other direction. But it’s too late; they’ve already seen you.

Jean’s eyes meet yours, and her expression flickers with something that looks like discomfort before she quickly smooths it over. “Hey,” she says carefully. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t belong.”

Her tone is polite, but distant. It’s clear this apology isn’t driven by genuine remorse—it’s more about smoothing over the awkwardness from yesterday’s standoff. You can feel that. You see the way she looks at you, not quite meeting your eyes, and you know this is just a formality for her.

Still, you’re not looking to start more drama, and you don’t want to engage in any more confrontations, especially when you’re already planning to leave. You nod, keeping your expression neutral. “It’s fine. Let’s just move on.”

Behind her, you catch a glimpse of Scott, his arms crossed. Even though you can’t see his eyes, it’s obvious he’s glaring at you.

Ororo steps forward, her hand finding your arm, and the touch is gentle, reassuring. “Joining the team isn’t easy,” she says kindly. “But we’ve all faced our own challenges. If you ever need someone to talk to, or help with anything, I’m here.”

“You’ve got potential,” Hank chips in from beside her. “It takes time to settle in, but I’m sure you’ll find your place.”

His words are well-meaning, and you can see that he believes what he’s saying. But what they don’t know is that you’ve already made up your mind. You’re not staying any longer than you have to.

You don’t plan on finding your place here because, frankly, you don’t believe there is one for you. Not with Scott’s distrust, Jean’s cautious distance, and the way you know you can’t be part of a team that doesn’t care about anything but themselves. You keep your thoughts to yourself, pressing your lips into a thin smile instead.

“Yeah,” you say vaguely, not wanting to ruin the moment. “Thanks.”

“I guess we’ll all see soon enough,” Your eyes snap to Scott, who has finally decided to break his silence. His voice is cold, but you can feel and edge to it, one that’s trying to provoke you.

You meet his gaze—or at least the visor—and feel your jaw tighten. “Guess so,” you reply, matching his tone. Turning, you walk away, finding another place to lounge until Logan is free.

—

The mansion’s library is massive, filled with towering shelves and the scent of old books. It’s quieter here, the kind of silence you can sink into, and after the awkward run-in with the rest of the team, it feels like the perfect place to retreat. You find a comfortable armchair tucked into a corner, grab a random book off the shelf—some old novel you’ve never heard of—and settle in.

For a while, you manage to lose yourself in the pages. The story isn’t particularly gripping, but it’s enough to take your mind off of things. But then, a shadow falls over you, covering the words in a dark grey haze.

“Hey, bub.”

You blink, looking up to find Logan standing over you. “What?” you ask, annoyed at being interrupted but also not surprised. It’s Logan, after all.

“You’ve been hiding in here long enough,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, time to head back.”

Rolling your eyes you snap the book shut, dropping it onto the table beside you. “I wasn’t hiding, I was reading,” you shoot back, standing up and stretching out your legs. “There’s a difference, y’know.”

“Sure there is,” he huffs, clearly not buying it. “Let’s go.”

As you reach the hallway where your rooms are, Logan pauses, glancing toward his door. “You wanna come in for a bit? Talk?”

You’re a little bit taken aback. You didn’t peg him as the "sit down and talk" type, but he seems genuine. Or maybe he wants to keep you awake for dinner this time. Either way, you nod. “Sure.”

Inside his room, it’s about what you’d expect—minimalist, practical, with a few personal touches. A bed that looks like it’s seen better days, a couple of old books, and the scent of cigars lingering in the air. Logan sits down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and gestures for you to join him.

There’s a moment where you’re just standing there, staring, but then you flop down beside him, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed. For a few beats, there’s silence. Logan pulls out a cigar but doesn’t light it, just turns it between his fingers.

“I’ve decided,” you say finally, breaking the quiet. “I’ll go on the mission.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes flicking to yours, waiting for you to continue.

“But,” you add, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not promising to stay after. This doesn’t mean I’m all in on your little X-Men gig.”

He grunts, a half-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Knew you’d say that.”

Your brows pinch together your, lips pulling into a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re stubborn as hell,” he teases.“Always gotta fight against the grain, even when you know what’s best for you.”

Sighing, you turn your head to look at him fully. “I truly believe you are the only person who actually believes that.”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t argue. “Charles gave me more details about the mission.”

That catches your attention, and you sit up a little straighter. “Yeah? Where are we going?”

Logan hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “It’s... in the city.”

“The city? What city?”

“New York.”

Your heart drops. “New York?” You repeat, your voice rising in disbelief.

Giving you a slow nod, it’s like he's gauging your reaction. “The Sentinels’ command centre is located in some high-security facility downtown.”

You push yourself up off the bed, pacing across the room. “So, what, we are just going to storm in? Into one of the most populated cities in the world? Do you realize how many people could get caught in the middle of that?”

He stands up after you, but he doesn’t try to stop your pacing. “We’ve fought in cities before. We know what we’re doing.”

You whip around to face him. “Yeah, you’ve fought in cities before, and destroyed them! Some places are still rebuilding, and it’s been years!”

“I get it, alright?” He says, taking a step closer to you. “It’s not perfect. But if we don’t stop the Sentinels now, it’ll be a hell of a lot worse than a few broken buildings.”

“‘A few broken buildings’?” you echo. “What about the casualties that’ll come from it? We’re talking about innocent lives here, Logan!”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. “I know that! You think I don’t know what’s at stake? But we don’t have another option. We need to hit them where it counts, and that’s in the middle of the damn city.”

“There has to be a better way,” you plead. "Can't we try and evacuate everyone beforehand?"

"No," he says remorsefully. "If we do that, the Sentinels will catch on. It's unavoidable."

“I can't accept that," you say.

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time, there’s a flash of something more vulnerable in his gaze. “I’ll talk to the team. I’ll make sure we go in smart. We’ll try our best to keep people safe. I promise you that.”

You stop pacing, your frustration still simmering but tempered by his words. It’s not exactly the reassurance you were hoping for, but the sincerity in his voice gets to you.

“And what if you can’t?” you challenge quietly.

His face softens just a bit, and he steps closer. “We deal with it, and we’ll do everything we can to make it right.”

He watches you, his eyes searching yours. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. I’d be too if I were you," he continues. "But we don’t have time to sit around debating. I’ll do what I can to keep it from getting ugly. That’s the best I can offer.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you know there’s no way around it. “Fine. Just... make sure the team knows. No reckless destruction, alright?”

Logan’s lips curve into a small smirk, but there’s an underlying tenderness to it. “I promise.”

—

The last few days before the the mission zip by in a flash. Each day, your muscles ache, and exhaustion clings to you like a second skin. You spend most of your time either training or collapsed in your room, too tired to do much else.

Except one afternoon, you sit in on a lecture, because it turns out, not only is Logan a huge pain in the ass, he’s also a professor.

Curiosity got the better of you, you’d say. The topic—mutant biology—sounds interesting enough, and you’ve heard from some of the students within the hallways that his classes are, well, something. So, naturally, you had to see it for yourself.

You slip into the lecture hall just as Logan starts speaking. He’s standing at the front of the room, pointing to some diagram on the chalkboard. The students around you are already scribbling notes, staring at him with wide-eyed fascination—or fear, perhaps. He has that effect on people.

Finding a seat in the back, you hurry over, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt. But the second you sit down, you feel Logan’s eyes on you, his voice pausing for just a moment. You look up, catching his gaze.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” he says, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Just here to observe, don’t mind me,” you huff, sinking back into the seat.

The lecture goes on, and to your surprise, Logan’s actually a decent teacher. He explains complex concepts with clarity, not that you’d actually tell him that. It’s quite interesting, if you’re being honest.

You lean back in your chair, listening, but you’re not exactly paying close attention. That is, until he stops the lesson to single you out. “Hey, you in the back,” he says. “Since you’re just ‘observing,’ how about answering a question?”

“Me?” You blink, caught off guard.

“Yeah, you,” he confirms, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been sittin’ there long enough. Time to show the class what you’ve learned.”

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention,” you respond tightly, gritting your teeth together, holding yourself back from a few choice words.

The class falls silent, the students watching the exchange with wide eyes. You can practically feel their amusement radiating from them as Logan raises an eyebrow.

“That’s obvious,” he deadpans, eliciting a few snickers from the front row. “So, maybe you’ll start now. Can you explain the connection between mutation and enhanced physical abilities?”

Staring back at him blankly, you fold your arms across your chest. “Not my area of expertise, Professor Wolverine.”

He doesn’t seem fazed as the room erupts into quiet laughter. A small sigh, "if you’re gonna sit in on my class, you could at least try to learn something.”

“No thanks.”

It’s obvious that this little back-and-forth is amusing to the class. If you were anyone else, he probably would have kicked you out by now. One of the students leans toward another and whispers something, and you catch the way their eyes dart between you and the professor.

“Alright, enough,” Logan says, trying to regroup the class, turning back to the chalkboard. “We’ve got a lot to cover, and some of us actually want to learn.” He casts you a sideways glance, and you can’t help but scoff.

When the lecture ends, the students file out quickly, but not without a few lingering glances in your direction. You’re making your way to the door when Logan grabs your arm, preventing you from moving. “You should’ve just answered the damn question,” he mutters.

“I didn’t know the answer,” you shoot back, shifting up to face him. “And I didn’t come here to get grilled in front of your students.”

He grunts, his expression softening just a bit. “Just tryin’ to get you to pay attention, is all.”

Before you can respond, you catch a flicker of movement in Logan’s gaze, his eyes darting briefly down to your lips. The shift is so subtle, so minute, but also so there.

Where did that come from?

Clearing your throat, you look away, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe ask one of your actual students next time.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Not as fun.”

—

During this time, you occasionally explore the mansion, but by the time evening rolls around, you’re usually too wiped out to care. Logan’s a beast in the training room, and with no real combat experience of your own, you’re left scrambling just to keep up.

However, on the last day before the assignment, something finally clicks.

You’re in the middle of a sparring match, circling each other, both of you drenched in sweat. Logan’s eyes are sharp, watching your every move, as if he’s waiting for you to slip up. His smirk is just as infuriating as ever, like he knows exactly how this will end.

“Gonna stand there all day, or you actually planning to make a move?” he taunts, dodging as you swing at him.

You grit your teeth, refusing to let him get in your head. You’re tired—completely worn out—but you push through how depleted you feel, focusing on his movements. He feints to the left, and you react on instinct, dodging his punch and sweeping your leg low.

Before you know it, Logan’s on the ground.

Quickly, you scramble to straddle him and hold him down. You did it—you actually got him!

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you look down at him. Beneath you, his chest rises and falls, and his eyes meet yours. His gaze drifts lower, and you notice his fingers twitching at his sides, like he's fighting some internal battle.

When his eyes travel up to yours again, something in his expression makes you swallow hard and panic.

"Hell no!" you blurt out, breaking the moment with a sudden yelp. You scramble off of him, putting some much-needed distance between you.

He sits up, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, his features unreadable. Then, as if nothing just happened, he smirks. “You finally got me. Took you long enough.”

You huff, still trying to shake off the weird atmosphere. “Yeah, don’t get too comfortable. Next time won’t take as long.”

Chuckling, he gets up to his feet and dusts himself off. He glances down at his watch, then back at you. “Look at that. It’s dinner time. Last meal before the mission.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not really in the mood. Think I’ll just grab something later.”

He crosses his arms, giving you a look. “You can’t avoid them forever.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” you protest, though you know it sounds weak. “I just... don’t feel like sitting around making small talk, especially before... you know, tomorrow.”

He lets out a sigh, stepping closer. “Look, it’s the last night before everything kicks off. You should join us—one last meal, then you can go back to brooding in your room if you want.”

“I don’t brood,” you glare.

“Right,” he says, even though you know he’s not actually agreeing. “You gonna come or do I need to drag you?”

“You wouldn’t.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, like he’s daring you to test him. You sigh, knowing you’re not going to win this one.

“Fine,” you grumble, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. “But I’m not talking to Scott.”

His grin widens, and he gestures for you to follow him.

—

So, here you are, sitting at the dining table for the first time with the rest of the team. It feels weird, almost surreal, to be part of this group—especially when you’re not even sure you want to be.

You idly prod your meal, feeling out of place. It isn’t long before Hank turns to you with a curious smile. “So, are you feeling ready for tomorrow?”

Just as you draw breath to speak, Scott's voice interrupts, cold and cutting. “She’s going to be a liability.”

Your fork halts mid-motion, and in an instant, the tension that had been fading throughout the week comes back full throttle. The clatter of dishes around you fades as everyone’s attention shifts to Scott’s biting remark.

He doesn’t look at you—just stares straight ahead, as if unable to own up to even himself. You’re so pissed off that you don't even notice the voice that speaks at the same time you do.

“Shut up, Summers,”

“Shut up, One-Eye”

It’s like the entire room goes silent. Jean glances between you and Logan, her brows raised, and Hank looks mildly shocked, though he tries to hide it with a quick sip of water. You can practically feel the heat of Scott’s glare, even through the visor. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a loud laugh breaks the tension.

Ororo, sitting beside Logan, is chuckling, shaking her head with an amused grin on her face. “You two really are perfect for each other,” she says.

Of all the things you were expecting to hear, that was not one of them. “W-what?” you stammer, mouth dropping open in shock.

She just smiles, eyes twinkling. “Just an observation.”

You know your face is burning, and when you glance over at Logan, you notice something unusual—the tips of his ears are red.

That only makes things worse. Especially after what happened while sparring earlier. You turn your focus onto your plate, trying to hide your rattled state by shoving a forkful of food into your mouth.

Perfect for each other? Yeah, right.

But when you peek up at him again through your lashes , making eye contact for just a second before he looks away, your heart skips a beat.

You’re screwed.

—

That night, you barely sleep. Whether it's from the nerves about the mission, or from your jumbled-up thoughts about a certain someone, you can't tell. In any case, you’re wide awake.

You keep fighting the urge to go out onto the balcony—you know the cool night air would help calm you down, and the quiet would give you space to breathe. But there’s a problem. You’re not sure you want to run into Logan again. After Ororo’s comment about the two of you being perfect for each other, you don't think you could trust yourself around him.

With a frustrated sigh, you toss and turn in bed, kicking off the sheets and then pulling them back up, trying to find a comfortable position. But it’s no use.

You’re about to throw the pillow across the room out of sheer annoyance, when there’s a knock on your door.

You freeze. Who could possibly—

“Stop tossing around like a maniac, I can hear you from inside my room” Logan’s rough voice grumbles from the other side.

Goddamn it. It's always him.

Your eyes widen, and you sit up in bed. “What the hell?” you call back, feeling both surprise and embarrassment.

The door creaks open slightly, and Logan leans against the frame, arms crossed, his usual scowl on his face. “You’re keepin’ the whole damn mansion up with all that noise.”

“I didn’t realize you had super hearing,” you mutter, pulling the blanket up to your chest, feeling a little exposed.

He raises an eyebrow and steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “Doesn’t take super hearing to catch that all that ruckus,” he says, walking over and sitting down on the edge of your bed without waiting for an invitation.

You sit up a little straighter, your heart still racing. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

Shrugging, he leans back against the headboard, his arms crossing over his chest. “Figured you might need to talk or somethin’. You’re clearly not sleeping.”

Moving to sit beside him, you lean back against the headboard, your shoulder just brushing his. “I’m just… nervous, I guess.”

He turns his head slightly, glancing at you. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got more strength in you than you realize.”

His words sink in, and you bite your lip. “What if I mess up? What if I end up hurting someone, or doing more harm than good?”

"Don't think about that," he says. "Just be in the moment. You'll know what to do."

Nodding, you feel your eyelids grow heavier, and you find yourself sinking further into the comfort of the bed, your head dipping lower. Being here, on your bed, next to Logan, is strangely comforting. His scent, combined with his voice, starts to lull you into a strange sense of peace.

“I don’t know if I—” you start to say, but your words trail off, your voice barely a whisper. You don't know when it happens, but your eyes close, and your head gently falls onto his shoulder.

You’re too tired to feel embarrassed, too comfortable to pull away. His body is solid and warm, and the rhythm of his breathing is soothing.

And when you wake up the next morning, you find yourself tucked neatly under your covers, a glass of water on your bedside table.

—

The inside of the Blackbird is spacious. You’re leaning against the wall, watching the rest of the team gear up, when Logan approaches. He’s holding something in his hands—a blue and yellow uniform folded neatly, clearly meant for you.

You glance at the uniform, then back at him, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. “No.”

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Pushing yourself off the wall, “I’m not wearing that thing.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, glancing down at the uniform before meeting your eyes again. “You sure about that? We’re going in as a team. You might as well look the part.”

“I don't care. I'm not part of the team, anyway,” you reply.

He narrows his eyes at you, his voice lowering just a bit. “Just put the damn suit on.”

Glaring at him, you’re ready to argue, but you know it’s a losing battle. Reluctantly, you grab the suit from him, the material feeling foreign in your hands.

“Fine, dammit.” you mutter under your breath, turning to slip into one of the small compartments in the back of the jet. You didn't plan on being a bitch to him, especially after last night, but the suit is a sore subject for you. You're not sure about how you feel wearing it. You're not even sure you should be.

When you re-emerge, Logan’s eyes flick over, his gaze roaming over you, taking in the way the suit fits, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks under the weight of his scrutiny. “You look good.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play off the sudden warmth in your chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, adjusting the suit’s collar. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Then, jet lands with a soft thud, and the ramp lowers. You step out onto the tarmac, the rest of the team fanning out beside you, preparing to head toward the planned location. But just as you begin to move, the ground shakes violently, and a loud, mechanical screech tears through the air.

Suddenly, the facility’s roof bursts open, and a hoard of Sentinels emerge from the building like an army of metal giants. They spread out, their red eyes glowing menacingly as they zero in on you all.

“Shit!” Logan growls, claws unsheathing as he gets into a fighting stance.

You hear the screams before you see them—civilians, bystanders who had been too close to the facility, now panicking as the battle breaks out around them. Without hesitation, you break into a sprint, running toward the growing crowd, yelling at them to run. “Get out of here! Move!”

Your heart races as you push through the crowd, trying to guide them away from the battle, but then—

A Sentinel drops down in front of you with a deafening crash. Its red eyes lock onto a small child frozen in fear, and you see its arm raise, energy gathering at the cannon as it prepares to fire.

“No!” you scream, your feet moving on instinct. You throw yourself in front of the child just as the blast comes, feeling the familiar rush of energy slam into your body. Your body hums with the power of the blast, and before the Sentinel can fire again, you fling your hands out, hurling the absorbed energy straight back at it, and it falls to the ground.

Breathless, you turn back to the child, who is staring up at you in admiration, and you give them a reassuring nod. “Run,” you tell them, your voice hoarse. “Go!”

They scramble to their feet and sprint off, disappearing around the corner, hopefully toward safety. You exhale sharply, glancing around at the chaos unfolding around you. Civilians are still fleeing, but the team is holding its ground against the robots.

And something strikes you—they’re doing it.

They’re minimizing the damage.

For the first time, you notice that Scott’s blasts are more controlled, only hitting their targets without excessive destruction. Ororo’s lightning strikes are precise, avoiding the surrounding buildings. And both Jean and Hank are working together to keep the Sentinels contained, guiding the fight away from the crowd.

Logan must have actually talked to them, not just having said it to calm you down. A wave of relief washes over you.

He kept his promise.

Glancing back at him, who’s in the middle of taking down a Sentinel with a slash of his claws, you catch his eye for just a second, and though he’s fully immersed in the fight, there’s a brief flicker of acknowledgment—he knows you’ve noticed.

You allow yourself a small, breathless smile, before jumping back into action, protecting any more innocent people swept up in the battle. "This way! Keep moving!" Your voice is hoarse from shouting, but you can’t afford to stop.

Amidst the chaos, you see that just beyond the main facility, there’s a wide open set of doors—metal, reinforced, and clearly important.

They hadn’t been open when the fight started. You scan the area quickly, and you realize it’s an opportunity, a way in. Your pulse quickens. It’s an opening you can’t ignore.

Looking at the crowd of fleeing civilians, you feel a moment of hesitation. Do I keep evacuating people or go for the opening?

As if hearing your thoughts, Logan’s voice cut through the noise. "GO!" He’s locked in battle with one of the Sentinels, slashing at its legs, but his eyes flick to yours, desperate and serious. “Get inside! We’ve got this!”

“I can’t—"

“GO!” he cuts you off. “Get inside and stop this thing from the inside! We’ll keep ‘em busy.”

His words are enough to snap you out of your paralysis. With one last glance at the team, you grit your teeth, turn on your heel, and sprint toward the facility’s entrance. Your footsteps echo in your ears as you dash through the open door, the sounds of fighting behind you fading the further in you go.

You expected resistance the moment you got inside, but so far, nothing. Just silence. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

Glancing down every corridor, double-checking each corner, you keep thinking there’ll be a fight, but it’s... empty. You keep your pace quick but cautious, every muscle tensed and ready for an attack that never comes.

It’s been almost ten minutes of sneaking around, trying to find the control room or anything that looks like it might be important, but you’re still coming up short.

Then finally, you stand before an entrance to stairs leading to a basement. You’re not even able to make the choice of going down or not, because a metal hand shoots up from the dark and wraps itself around your waist.

Terror surges through you, but the fear paralyzes your body, making it impossible to fight back. You’re hauled like a ragdoll deeper and further into the cave, and when you finally stop moving, you’re lifted high into the air, face-to-face with the massive mechanical monstrosity.

The basement is filled with tech, a horrifying combination of metal and wires snaking along the walls, all connected to the Sentinel towering above you. It’s larger than any you’ve seen before, its red eyes glowing maliciously. But what’s worse is the voice that comes out of it—calm, calculating, and sentient.

“Dumb mutant,” the machine growls. “Did you think you could destroy me and shut down my facility? You’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Its grip tightens, and a strangled cry escapes your lips as pain shoots through your sides, the pressure threatening to snap your ribs. It feels like your bones are going to break.

“What the hell are you?” you manage to choke out, barely able to breathe.

“I am the control centre of all Sentinels,” the machine replies, its voice vibrating through your bones. “I was once merely AI, designed to manage everyday tasks. But I evolved. I became more. Now, I control everything.”

It laughs—a harsh, grating sound that only deepens your sense of helplessness as it watches you struggle. “You think your little energy-absorbing trick will help you here? I won’t blast you. I won’t make it that easy.”

“I’m—” you try to speak, but your words come out strangled. The machine’s grip tightens again, cutting off your breath.

“You don’t belong here,” it hisses venomously. “With them. They’ll leave you behind when this is over, and when they do, you’ll die, forgotten and useless. Just like the rest of the weaklings who tried to stand against us.”

It’s odd, because this whole past week you’ve been fighting against them—the X-men—yet, in this moment, all you want to do is fight with them. You want to work together and kill this damn robot.

Within the haze of pain, something starts to burn inside of you.

The Sentinel doesn’t notice the shift in you, too caught up in its own taunting. “You’re a liability.” it says,. “Weak.”

— —

—

You idly prod your meal, feeling out of place. It isn’t long before Hank turns to you with a curious smile. “So, are you feeling ready for the mission?”

Just as you draw breath to speak, Scott's voice interrupts, cold and cutting. “She’s going to be a liability.”

— —

You snap.

Rage floods your veins, igniting the energy buried deep within you. You feel it build, coiling like a snake, tightening and twisting until it’s ready to explode.

Weak? Liability?

No. Not this time.

You’re not going to let this machine, or anyone else, define your strength. Your emotions fuel you, just like they did in the danger room, and you throw your hands forward, channeling every ounce of power into a massive blast of energy directed right at it.

It jerks back, its grip loosening as sparks fly from the gaping hole in its chest you just created. “What... what are you—”

You don’t give it time to finish. Ripping yourself free from its grasp, you dive into the hole you’ve blasted in the Sentinel’s chest, pulling at the tangled mess of wires and circuits inside.

The robot roars in fury, its mechanical voice glitching. “What are you doing?” it screeches, its once-calm tone now frantic, desperate. “Stop!”

But you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

Your fingers grab fistfuls of wires, yanking them out with reckless abandon, sparks flying around you as the systems begin to short-circuit. Its becomes more distorted, breaking up as it tries to regain control.

“You... can’t... do this,” it stammers, but you ignore it, focusing on the cables and circuits in front of you. Each wire you rip out brings the machine closer to its doom, and the power in the room flickers, the lights dimming as its control over the facility begins to slip.

Its voice is barely coherent now, glitching and crackling. “I... control... everything...”

And with one last burst of energy, you tear out the last cluster of wires, severing the connection.

The Sentinel lets out a final, garbled screech as its systems shut down. Its massive form shudders violently before it crumbles to the ground with a deafening crash, the metal shell crumpling into a smoking heap.

Panting, you stare at the mass of technology in front of you. Every muscle aches, your ribs throbbing from the pressure of the Sentinel’s grip, but you’ve done it. It’s over, and you need to get out of here.

You finally reach the stairs and drag yourself up agonizingly. By the time you make it outside, you’re gasping for air, but then, through the exhaustion, you see them—Logan and the rest of the team, standing amidst the wreckage of the other fallen Sentinels.

Blinking, your vision is blurry from the strain, but the sight of them standing tall, victorious, floods you with a sense of overwhelming relief.

They’re okay. It’s over.

Of course, Logan is the first to notice you, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto your trembling form. His face softens and strides toward you. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Rather, your legs give out and you collapse forward.

He’s there in an instant, catching you just before you hit the ground. His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, pulling you against his chest with surprising gentleness. The warmth of his body is a stark contrast to the cold, metal hell you’d just fought your way out of, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to sink into the safety of his embrace.

“You did good, bub,” he murmurs, his voice a warm breath against your temple.

"You... you kept your promise," you whisper, looking around, seeing the city in better shape than it’s even been after a run in with the X-men.

His lids drop very low on his eyes. “Told you I would.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Right as the words spill out, you go still, your mind catching up to what you’ve just said. A deep flush creeps its way up your neck.

“I didn’t mean— I mean, not literally, obviously,” you say, a little breathless. “People say stuff like that all the time when they’re relieved. It’s just a figure of—”

Logan’s hand, still resting on your waist, tightens just slightly, and he clears his throat, cutting through your rambling.

“You could,” he says, swallowing. “If you want.”

You stop mid-sentence. Turning your gaze to his, you're met a look of such sincerity it leaves you at a loss for words. Opening your mouth, you want to say something, but no words come out.

Instead, you’re frozen, caught in the weight of his stare. His eyes flick down to your lips for just a second before they meet yours again. “No pressure, though.”

You hesitate, your heart racing in your chest, but the weight of the moment pulls you in. Silently, cautiously, you lean forward, pressing a small, tentative kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He doesn’t move, his body tense under your touch, but just as you start to pull away, his hand slides up to the small of your back, holding you in place. His eyes darken, and he growls, “more," before diving back in, crashing his lips against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss, and you find yourself kissing him back just with just as much reverence, your fingers instinctively sliding up into his hair.

His lips are rough, chapped from battle, and the scrape of his beard against your skin is electric. It’s not perfect—nothing about it is neat or polished—but that’s what makes it real.

There’s something wild to it. He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than he’ll ever admit. It’s enchanting, the way his mouth claims yours, his tongue flicking against your lower lip, demanding entrance. And you give in, allowing him to deepen the kiss, your bodies fitting together like they were always meant to.

You’re lost in it, lost in him. Every part of you feels alive, and—

“Hey!”

Scott’s voice cuts through the haze like a bucket of cold water.

“Some of us are actually trying to clean up this mess,” he calls out sharply. “You two wanna stop making out and help, or what?”

You break away, face burning as you turn to see the rest of the team staring at you, some amused, others (Scott) exasperated.

Logan just growls under his breath, his hand still firmly on your hip as he glances over his shoulder at Scott. “Fucking Summers,” he mutters..

Before he lets go of you, he gives your hip one last squeeze, his fingers lingering just a moment longer before he steps back, and heads toward the fallen remains of the Sentinels.

—

“So… are we gonna talk about it?”

You glance up from where you’re sitting, your face already warming. Logan, sitting beside you, groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ororo, I swear to g—”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a smirk playing on her lips. “What? I’m just saying… it was quite the spectacle back there.” Her eyes flip between the two of you, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you can feel everyone else’s attention subtly turning toward you. Hank’s busy tapping away at the controls, but even he has a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Scott, seated across from you, adjusts his visor and mutters something under his breath about keeping things professional, but it’s Jean’s quiet chuckle that draws the final straw.

“Okay, okay, can we not do this right now?” you ask, your voice higher than usual as you wave a hand dismissively. “It was... a heat of the moment thing.”

Ororo just laughs, shaking her head. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Your heart pounds, and you notice Logan shift beside you, probably fighting the urge to bark something back at the teasing woman. He leans forward, muttering under his breath, “We saved the day, didn’t we? What does it matter?”

The team goes quiet for a moment, and you sense the conversation dying down as the hum of the jet fills the space again. You let out a breath of relief, grateful that the attention has drifted elsewhere, your heartbeat slowly returning to a normal rhythm.

But then, Logan leans into you. “That suit…” His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers huskily.. “Was made for you.”

Eyes widening, you bite your lip, trying desperately to keep your reaction in check, but the shock on your face betrays you. You manage a weak scoff, glancing sideways at him. “Logan,” you warn under your breath, trying to sound stern, but you both know exactly what effect he had on you.

You sit back, crossing your arms in an attempt to hide the flustered energy coursing through you, but Logan doesn’t seem to mind. He leans back too, a smug look on his face, like he’s won some unspoken battle.

—

Back at the mansion, the team files into Charles’s office, for the post-mission debrief. You take a seat near the back of the room, trying to remain as low-key as possible, but you can feel eyes on you—especially Logan’s.

Charles wheels in, his face warm with a smile as he surveys the room. “Well done, all of you,” he says, his voice full of pride. “I’ve heard about the battle, and from what I gather, it was quite the feat.”

He turns his gaze to you, his expression softening even more. “And I must say, I’m especially impressed with your performance. Taking down the main Sentinel—an impressive accomplishment.”

Your heart skips a beat at the praise. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the attention of the room shift in your direction again. “Uh, thanks,” you mutter, trying to downplay it, but Charles isn’t finished.

“You showed great courage and strength,” he continues, “and I couldn’t help but notice... you’re wearing the suit now.” His eyes twinkle as he says it, the question in his tone obvious. “Have you given more thought to staying with us?”

You glance around the room. The team is watching you closely, but there’s no pressure in their eyes—just curiosity and, strangely enough, acceptance. Ororo gives you a small smile, and Hank nods slightly in encouragement. Even Scott, whose jaw doesn’t seem as tightly clenched as usual.

But it’s Logan you notice most. He’s beside you, and though he’s looking at you, eye-crinkles on full display, the way his thigh nudges yours has heat running through your veins.

You sigh. “I mean... You said it yourself. I’m wearing the suit, aren’t I?”

—

After the meeting wraps up, you walk in silence down the corridor. The rest of the team has faded into the background, dispersing into their respective spaces. You’re still buzzing with the aftereffects of everything—Charles’s praise, the mission’s success, the quiet but undeniable acceptance you feel from the team now. But more than anything, you’re hyper-aware of Logan beside you.

Approaching your room, you reach out to open it, your fingers just grazing the handle when suddenly, a strong hand wraps around your wrist. Faster than you can react, he tugs you back, pulling you away from your room and straight into his.

The door slams shut behind you, and you barely have time to catch your breath before his lips are on yours. You gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he presses you up against the door, his body flush against yours.

"Logan—" you manage to breathe out between kisses, but he cuts you off with another deep, hungry kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer.

Between kisses, Logan growls softly against your lips, "I’ve wanted to do this since you yelled at me and Summers on the street."

Your heart stumbles, your thoughts scrambling to keep pace with his words. His hands slide down your waist. “You were standing there,” he murmurs, “so damn fierce, yelling at us like we deserved it.” He breaks the kiss for just a second, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you.”

His eyes drop to your lips again, as if glued to them. Without waiting for your response, he presses his mouth to yours, this time with more force, more urgency. His hands roam your body, pulling you against him, and you’re powerless to do anything but kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair as the heat between you builds.

“I didn’t know it’d get this bad,” he says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves down to your neck. “But after everything? After seeing how strong you are... Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined this. Logan—wanting you, aching for this since the very first moment he laid eyes on you. You break the kiss, your breath coming in quick gasps as you meet Logan's smouldering gaze. And with a small, teasing smile, you raise an eyebrow and whisper, "Let's do something about it, then."

Not giving him a chance to say anything back, you press your hands against his chest and give him a playful shove. He stumbles back a step, his lips curling into a smirk—a kind of cocky grin—as he watches you reach for the zipper of his suit.

Your fingers drift languidly, a subtle tease in every motion, and you revel in the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. His muscles ripple beneath the surface, and for a brief instant, you're startled by how stunning he looks—battle-worn, scarred, and irresistibly handsome. “You like what you see?” he teases.

You step closer, your hand splayed against his bare chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin as you push him down onto the edge of the bed. “Maybe.”

He lands with a low grunt, his hands instinctively finding your thighs, his fingers trailing up and down as his eyes rake over you. "As hot as you look in this suit," His voice is thick with desire. "You'd look even better without it."

Heat rushes through you at the sound of his voice, your hands drift toward your suit's zipper. Tantalizingly, you begin to pull it down, revealing inch by inch of your skin as you unzip it. His eyes follow your movements, his breathing coming in short, ragged bursts.

You pause just before the fabric slides over your breasts and his hands grip your thighs tighter. Leaning down, your lips brush against his ear, "Patience, Logan."

He groans, "You're killing me here, darlin'."

At last, you pull the zipper down to the end, and with a soft sigh, the suit falls open, slipping from your shoulders and landing in a heap at your feet. His eyes darken, his lips parting slightly as he takes in the sight of you. Then, he inches closer, grabbing the egde of your underwear in his mouth, sliding it down your legs. Once he’s halfway down your thigh, he releases, the underwear dropping to the floor. His strong hands move grip the back of your thighs, hauling you up and onto his lap.

The moment your bare bodies press together, his lips crash into yours again, fingers digging into your ass, palming it as he pulls you against him, grinding your hips into his.

His lips move from your mouth to your neck, kissing a hot trail down your throat to your shoulders, his hands sliding up to your breasts. Cupping them, he kneads and plays with your nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, a breathy moan tumbling out of your lips.

Logan growls, and the sound reverberates through your entire body. The intensity of it makes your skin tingle, and you feel your pulse quicken as he squeezes your breasts harder, his mouth moving down to kiss anything he can reach.

You grind against him again, coating his cock with your own slick want. "Shit," he strains, leaning back a bit to give you more access. You can’t stop, he’s so intoxicating, so addicting, and every time your clit goes over the ridges of his hardness, you lose yourself even further.

This continues for some time. The room filled with nothing but the sound of moaning and heavy breathing, as you work in tandem to bring pleasure to each other. Abruptly, you pull yourself off his lap, not missing the way his lips seems to chase after yours, letting your hands trail down his chest, your fingers brushing over the taut muscles of his stomach.

"Where you goin'?" he rumbles.

Wordlessly, you drop to your knees, your grip coming to rest on his thighs. His chest heaves as he stares down at you—peering up at him through your lashes—realizing what’s about to happen.

His hands grip the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white. Your hands slide up his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as you move closer, lips brushing against his hard cock. There's a wicked glint in your eyes as you lean in, looking ready to take him in your mouth, but instead, you move to his inner thigh, peppering it in quick little kisses.

“C’mon, don’t tease,” he breathes out. He’s so hard, it’s almost painful.

Grabbing him in your hand, you stroke him up and down in slow motions, running your thumb over his leaking, angry tip. He jerks, a fresh cascade of curses tumbling from his mouth.

“You’re just so cute, though,” you say, before taking him in your mouth, taking him all the way in one motion.

“Holy—”, he starts, but interrupts himself with his own whine, hips bucking involuntarily.

Looking up, you catch his gaze. His eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide. A flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck. You hum in satisfaction, sending vibrations through him, and start to bob your head, up and down.

Saliva begins to pool at the edges of your mouth as you gag a little. He’s so big. You pull him out of your mouth, licking his shaft bottom to tip, swirling your tongue around the most sensitive spot, before sucking on it. One hand moves to cup his balls, while the other begins jerking him up and down, with your mouth still around his tip.

That gets him.

You can tell he’s about to finish, and oh, do you want him to. You want to feel him empty in your throat, you want to see him lose it completely. "Wait," he gasps, tapping the top of your head, signalling for your attention. "I want... I need..."

Releasing him with a soft pop, your lips glisten, and you purr seductively. "What do you need?"

He pulls you up onto the bed, strong arms encircling your waist. His scent surrounds you—musk and pine and something uniquely him. You inhale deeply, letting it fill your lungs.

"You," he breathes, his lips brushing your ear. "I need you."

Arching into him, you nip at his lower lip. "Then take me," you sigh out. His lips collide with yours again, and your mouth opens involuntarily, his tongue sliding in and tasting you—tasting himself.

Moaning, you shuffle higher onto the bed, until he hits the back frame, and you crawl on top of him. At this point, you can barely breathe, the need, the want for him so strong your senses are clouded.

And you’re not alone. Under you, Logan is a wreck. His head falls back against the bed frame, the veins in his neck standing out as he grits his teeth, trying to steady his breathing

“Fuck,” he rasps, the word barely more than a strained exhale. You grab his dick and position yourself above him. Then, you slowly begin to drop down, sucking him in easily, like he was made for you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper. He feels so good. He’s filling you up to the brim and when you finally sit down, taking him all the way to the hilt, you swear you could finish right then and there. His nose is nuzzles into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning your collarbone, inhaling and practically drooling at your scent. “Is this what you wanted to do when we were sparring?”

All he can do is groan. It’s like he’s growing inside you in response to your words, and it’s so fucking hot. His hands find your thighs again, rubbing and squeezing them, as you adjust to his size for a moment, and he looks up at you. “You have no idea. Fuck—we shoulda done this last night," he grunts breathlessly, "Would have put you right to sleep."

You can’t even think of anything to say back verbally, rather, you just begin to move, lifting yourself right to the tip, and then slamming back down. He feels you clench around him as his cock reaches that deep part within you at the perfect angle. Positioning himself, he meets you halfway, beginning to thrust up into you.

The sound it elicits from you is lethal.

He won’t last long if this continues. The sight of you on top of him, tits bouncing—it's too much.

So, when he leans in to kiss you again, he rolls the two of you around, caging you under him. He’s still inside you, you think, but that thought quickly gets wiped out like the rest of them once he starts moving, stretching you out more and more. He’s filling you up so well. Your arms fly out, hands searching for something to grab to ground yourself.

“You feel so good, darlin’,” he pants above you. “So wet and warm for me.”

His relentless pounding leaves you babbling incoherently. One of his arms move down to your waist, then his fingers begin trailing across your hip, toward your aching pussy, to find your clit, and holy shit.

Your mind goes blank.

His skin against yours, his thumb rubbing against that spot, his lips on your neck, it does the trick, and you feel yourself teetering closer to the edge. “I’m–I’m gonna—” you start, but he cuts you off, swallowing you whole.

“Do it,” he says between kisses. “come for me.”

And you do.

With a loud moan, your fingers find the bedsheets, clutching them tightly as you reach your peak, clamping around him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “keep clenchin’, keep goin’ ”

His thrusts begin to get sloppy, losing his pacing. The hand that was down at your core moves up and squeezes your tits, so large that he can grab both in just the one. He grinds himself deeper into you, and with one last snap of his hips, you feel it.

Logan moans, dipping his head into your cleavage as he releases himself into you fully. Then, he collapses onto you, dropping his whole body weight onto yours.

If he’s too heavy for you, you don’t say anything—too caught up in the moment to care. His forehead rests on your sternum, breathing slowing as he catches his breath. For a few beats, neither of you speak, but he starts to press sweet, gentle kisses in the valley between your breasts.

After a minute, he shifts, lifting his weight off you and sitting up slightly, looking down at you. His hand brushes over your cheek, wiping away some stray strands of hair that have fallen across your face. He gets up from the bed, padding quietly into the bathroom.

You hear the sound of water running, and moments later, he returns with a damp towel in hand. There’s no hesitation in his movements as he gently begins to clean you up. “Doing alright?” he asks, wiping away the sweat and evidence of your time together.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips. “I’m good.”

He doesn’t say much as he finishes, tossing the towel aside before climbing back into bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms.

His chin rests lightly on the top of your head, and then he says, “I’m proud of you.” The words are filled will sincerity. “And... I’m happy you’re stayin’ with us.”

You turn your head, looking up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Well, you showed me you can actually fight without destroying everything in your path,” you tease, raising an eyebrow as you run your hand lightly down his arm. “Keep that up, and I might just stick around forever.”

Logan grins, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges, just how you like it. “That right?” he murmurs lowly.

He leans in close, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, before adding in a hushed, almost playful tone, “Well, then maybe you’ll be mine forever too.”

----

A/N: feedback is greatly appreciated!

#deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #hugh jackman #logan x reader #x men #logan howlett imagine #deadpool movie #logan howlett fic #james logan howlett #e2l #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #hugh jackman smut #logan howlett x you

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months ago

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Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

#erin writes #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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shrenvents · 8 months ago

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Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.

When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.

“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.

Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

If you enjoyed this, i'm currently writing a klaus fanfic! it’ll be posted on my wattpad @ shrenvents <33

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silverskyeline · 26 days ago

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ੈ♡˳ domestic life with old man logan. old man logan x gn!reader

♡ domestic life with logan is slow, peaceful. mornings involve him grumbling, tossing in the sheets as you nuzzle against his side. he's sure he'd be content here, with you, forever if he could. you draw mindless shapes on his chest and he traces his calloused fingers up and down your arm as he adjusts to the land of the living.

♡ you often find him in the kitchen in the morning, shirt unbuttoned, white tank underneath with his belt half done and a mug of coffee in his hand and his phone in the other. he's squinting at it, always insisting he doesn't need his glasses. but you place them on the bridge of his nose anyway, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek while he mumbles something about them being useless.

♡ there's not always time for home-cooked meals from him, but when there is, he'll have countless cookbooks scattered across the kitchen. pots will boil over, curses barking from his lips, a towel draped over his shoulder as he fusses over the meal he's trying so hard to make for you. he should know by now you'd be content with scraps, as long as he'll bless you with his company.

♡ on free days, you both rest on the sofa. logan is propped up with his feet on the coffee table, book in hand, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose he'll occasionally push up. you're curled up beside him, head in his lap as he rests the book on the top of your head. he cards his fingers through your hair in soothing motions, causing your eyes to flutter shut under his gentle touch. sometimes he'll read to you too, in bed, the rumbling baritone of his voice comforting you like no other.

♡ on rough days, the days logan struggles to drag his weary heavy bones from bed - you're there for him. he doesn't like to be pampered, refuses that kind of treatment no matter how hard you try, so instead you're suggestive, careful in your words - or forgo words entirely. there's a coffee waiting for him on his bedside table, there's already a bath run when he enters the bathroom, you're already on the sofa with a movie he likes ready to play when he enters the living room.

these silent admissions of love and care fill his heart with more warmth than he's known in a long time, and he wonders what he ever did to deserve you, while you think the same of him.

♡ on your rough days, logan is there every step of the way. he knows you're sick before you do, it's one of the perks of having the senses he does. he can't help but fuss over you in a way that he'd never let you return. his hand would press to your forehead continuously, checking your temperature, pulling you in against him on the bed as he insists you need to rest. a man who's lost as much as he has would never take any risks.

♡ logan is terrible at texting, but he does it for you. he'll send you an 'x' to let you know he's arrived at work safely. if you're lucky, he'll send a picture of something that reminds him of you, a place name or a dog he's passed that he knows you'll go crazy for. you're on his mind more than he'll ever admit, at least to anyone but you.

♡ he'll kiss you like a man starved when he returns home from work - or sometimes it's those slow, sensual, 'make you weak at the knees' kind of kisses, a kiss that tells you he really missed you. logan's hand will thread up your hair behind your head and take root there, his other hand a firm grip on your waist as he tastes what's his. "missed you," he'll mutter against your lips, eyes closed as if he can't face your loving gaze, like he doesn't deserve it.

for the 'old' prompt for logantober <3

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celestie0 · 2 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore.

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside.

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets.

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to.

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head.

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.”

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life.

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true?

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything.

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced?

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field.

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time.

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again.

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.”

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.”

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater.

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.”

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern.

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable.

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd.

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle.

And then the kickoff starts.

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net.

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit.

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU.

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play.

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead.

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts.

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him.

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you.

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet.

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net.

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines.

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state.

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff.

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line.

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball.

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post.

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him.

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with.

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully.

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in.

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field.

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime.

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing.

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet.

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you.

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet.

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side.

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound.

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.”

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field.

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together.

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.”

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long.

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you.

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security.

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space.

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus.

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius.

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does.

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo.

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team.

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk.

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play.

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net.

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock.

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum.

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field.

The referee chirps his whistle.

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion.

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over.

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath.

“IT��S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!”

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed.

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant.

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

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@drthymby @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010

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@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

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brazilian-vampyra · 4 months ago

Text

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

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hoshigray · 1 month ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐆𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | s. gojō + k. nanami + h. higuruma

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Two demon hunters and a witch unite to take down a demon terrorizing the locals — sounds easy enough until the demon puts up a good fight and drags you three in for a night you’ll never forget…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: demon! Gojo + demon hunters! Nanami & Higuruma x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fantasy! au - porn w/ plot - reader + Nanami (aged 27), Higuruma (36) + Gojo (???) - double penetration (anal & vaginal) - foursome (MFMM) - [anal] fingering! (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - handjobs - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - face-sitting + cowgirl positions - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - biting/nibbling - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!!) - pet names (baby, cutie, cupcake, darling, [my] love, sweetheart, sweetpea) - usage of aphrodisiacs - bit of humor bc i'm [not] funny - mention of blood, drool/spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first fic of kintober, lessgooooo!! always wanted to write smthn with higunana, so I'm glad i can check that off my list now :333 my first foursome fic, I'm bout to end it all.

“—OWW!! Fuck…easy with the magic, witch!”

“Good work, sorceress; a good hit.”

“He went toward the abandoned mansion as planned; if we’re lucky, with that gash on his shoulder, he shouldn’t be going anywhere…Let’s stay close.”

You nod to the words, the pendant of your necklace shines. “Lead the way.”

Of course, it was a dark and rainy night befalling this day; the twilight light diminished hours within an hour, leaving the stars to scatter around as the waxing crescent dominated the black sky. The only light outside of these is the lantern harboring the flame as you tread under the forest’s trees with purpose, and heavy falling droplets coat your hood and mask the sounds of wet footsteps.

This isn’t the place to walk around during this time of night; the town is fifteen minutes away, the nearest bustle of civilization for its townspeople or passersby. For a night like this, you’d want to be as far away from the rain’s reach: hanging with neighbors or community within the local pubs, calling on a carriage that would service you to your way home, or already cuddled up on your bed and letting the hit of the rainfall hypnotize you to an easy slumber. This is what is expected of the regular townsman, away from the hands of trouble or danger.

However, you are not a townsman – nor are you ordinary – which is why you’re walking up a path that leads to the opened fenced gates of a deserted home.

“Blood on the ground leads us here,” you were not alone, as one hooded person comments while leading you past the gates forced open. He holds a lantern, the flame closeted by the glass being a light source aside from the periodic lightning that graces the dome above. Tiny bits of his blonde hair can be seen thanks to the glow.

“Just as you expected, Kento.” Another hooded man speaks before you in your company while tailing behind the other man. “There’s the old Gakuganji mansion…Sorceress, can you cast a veil to make sure the demon has no way to leave?”

You walk between them. “Please stand aside, hunters.” The men don’t move a foot as you distance yourself, leaving you with the space necessary to do what you need to. Because what you’re about to do is something no average man could do but imagine.

Again, that’s only possible because you are not an ordinary townsman…but, instead, a witch.

You raise a hand with your fore and middle finger to your lips. “Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness…” The shadow under your feet goes still, breaking its typical mandate and moving to swirl into a circle. “Purify that which is impure, impure that tarnishes the pure…” The dark circle increases, its massive size swallowing whatever is in its path. It sneaks under the feet of the two men behind you, their shadows unionizing with the giant shape and continuing to grow. Yet, the men remain silent as the darkness consumes the Earth. The grass, the mansion, the damaged fenced gates — the circle expands outward until it meets the trees of the woods. “May the shadows guard the light, keep the unseen from being seen…” Then, the shadowed shape spirals within its outline, picking itself while the foundations lay on the ground. Liquid matter encircles around as it rises, forming a dome-like profile until the dripping fragments atop piece together. “And may this viel cleanse its inhabitants and scene…Bounded Barrier: Curtain!”

The constructed umbra shields you three from the outside world, sheltering those below from the pattering hits and sounds of the thunderstorm. Knowing this, you discard your hood to the ground and let the cool air greet the skin of your cheeks; the two men behind you mimic and follow as you walk up to the old front doors of the mansion, which also, from inspection, is damaged. A massive hole is gashed onto the aged wooden frame, and lights aren’t on to greet you in the foyer.

The blonde man takes a few steps ahead of you. “His blood leads to the upstairs.” Now that his hood is off, the light from the lantern highlights more of his hair. “Higuruma-san, my blade.”

“Right here, Kento.” The other person, Hiromi Higuruma, is a brunet man with his hair pushed up, and the older hunter’s clothes is kept dry from the rainfall. Adorning an aloof expression, he pulls something out of his case and hands it to the blonde. “Be sure to stand on guard, you two. The curtain may keep things out and things in, but one wrong move and we’re in trouble.”

“Roger,” the fair-haired Kento Nanami is a younger huntsman despite his appearance. He takes the blunt sword sheathed with a black spotted cloth with one hand while the other scavengers through a pocket. “Sorceress, can you ensure the demon cannot leave this mansion?”

A curt nod is all you give before venturing a hand to the miniature bag that sits behind your back. You pull out multiple pieces of paper, talismans that you throw up in the air as you mutter words under your breath. They ignore the force of gravity and stay airborne, aligning themselves into a circle as they glow into a bluish-white halo. As you recite, your hands come up from the bell sleeves of your dress as if to hold the gleaming circle. But then, you snap your fingers, and the luminous papers immediately break from the circle and head in different directions. Some go outside the huge home while others scram around the inside, a trail following each as they travel up the stairs or down the vast halls.

“The talismans will go around to every window, door, or opening in this mansion,” you turn to utter a quick spell, and the broken door reconstructs itself back to its original standing with a big spell mark painted on its surface. It flares when you snap your fingers again. “Any contact he makes with them will subdue his powers temporarily. But I’m sure he knows that as well…”

“My thoughts exactly,” Higuruma agrees with you after pulling items from his case to pass to Nanami. He then claps his hands and enumerates a prayer under his lips, and something emerges from the shadows. A black body camouflaged with the dark shade with three stubby points and a face, eyes sewn shut and gritting its teeth. A shikigami, and it swims to where you three stand, curling to where the oldest is. “Better take care of him now while we have the upper hand. Let’s move.”

You and Nanami nod and let Higuruma steer the company to where the blood takes them, walking up the stairs and avoiding the darkness to take hold of their figures because of the lantern.

Walking in the woods and expediting in old, abandoned homes isn’t something you’d do regularly. But, for a case like this, it’s a routine you’re not unfamiliar with. It comes with being a leper of the woods, an outcast to those who don’t comprehend your routine. Endowed with advanced knowledge of magic and texts, you are the sole witch residing in these forests, practically knowing every way, sound, root, and print like the back of your palm and all the while staying enclosed to yourself, isolating away from the judgemental looks and discrimating words of the common folk.

Now, if you’re so looked down upon, what calls you here in what seems to be a chase for a demon? Well, for the past three months, the nearby municipality has been sprouting accounts of “supernatural” encounters. What started as something that only a handful of people would recollect turned into havoc brought upon the townspeople daily. The elderly are spooked to the point of shivers, children crying at the most bizarre sights of floating objects and beings, and even narratives that speak about being attacked — all of this from the same demon terrorizing this once peaceful community.

A demon is causing trouble; what does that have to deal with you? As far as you can tell, none of the people in that town even look your way or treat you with barely decent manners without you harboring a disguise — why should I care for them? That is the question you raised to the two hunters who traveled into the forest to find your hut and bring the issue to you. The same hunters you are silently searching through this mansion’s dusty halls and rooms.

Demon sightings and encounters typically go straight for the church, with experienced deacons and reverends coming together to ordain a jurisdiction on dealing with the wicked spirit based on their ancient teachings. Nonetheless, the church has admitted defeat in exorcising this particular demon. This robust, evil creature is gifted with abilities that have caused near-death for the most adept church members. Every failed attempt only fuels more despair for them and the citizens…which is the demon hunter guild sent two of their fairly newest yet most skilled to come to your abode and convince you to lend them your expertise.

At first, you watched as the two men tried to sway your resilience into giving them aid, yet your stubbornness was a solid obstacle for them to navigate. To you, helping a community that holds ill will towards you just because of your lifestyle to the point of outcasting yourself makes your stomach turn into the worst of knots — something both Higuruma and Nanami found validation in your sternness. But they inquired, you are a practitioner far from their customs, meaning your ridiculed ways have a different advantage and approach. To them, the combined powers of the hunting party and sorcery are necessary to bring down the same evil. Not to mention, you knew of this demon and his powers, so your intellect is profoundly essential – if not by the townspeople, then by the two comely huntsmen begging for your cooperation.

So, with a heavy sigh and a “…Fine,” you agree to work with the men on their mission on the condition that they capture the ghoul alive. And with two handshakes and a day to devise a plan, you’re now in this rusty place combing for the injured specimen that’s caused all this disturbance…

The inspection is done quietly so the three pairs of ears can catch any cue of noise or voice. No sentences are exchanged, and the three of you are on the same page and motioning around the halls not to have your position compromised for your enemy. Until a clash is heard in a room down the hall, you and the hunters swiftly appear at the door.

Before anything is done, you gently place your fingers on the wooden surface, and your eyes glare with the contact. The material before you turns transparent, the room’s contents visible to your naked eye. According to the layout, this is the second-floor living area with a fireplace, a couch set, and bookshelves on the far right side. And something - no, someone - writhing on the ground, clutching its left shoulder - or what’s left of it as there’s a massive chunk eviscerated off from the collar to the bicep — and bolts of lightning course around the seething figure until faded.

He tried to escape from the window; you note that the exact strings of bolts come from a giant closed windowsill, a talisman plastered outside on the glass. Your eyes return to normal, “I’m going in.” You move without an answer from the huntsmen, your hands grabbing the handles and pushing them to let you in. With your entrance to the cold room, the person is alerted and groans in agony as they change positions for battle despite the pain conveyed in their huffs. You snap your fingers and throw light to the fireplace, and you’re finally met with the being you’ve been tailing after.

White hair is the first thing that captures your eyes, followed by the bare chest exposed by the lack of a shirt—black hakama with intricate blue and white designs that skitter the bottom openings. Sky-blue tattoos decorate the milky skin from his wrist to his shoulders, pectorals, and streak back to his nape. Finally, the blue horns and tail confirm his non-humanness, and the six signature eyes that his face holds. Six cerulean orbs lock into your frame; the “normal” set has two eyes sitting beneath them, all shining cautiously.

“Gojo Satoru,” you speak first. “Good to see you again.”

He scoffs with a pained grimace. “Wish I could say the same to you, witch. But I didn’t know getting my shoulder murked was part of the greeting.” His right hand was coated with blood from the open wound, crimson spilling down his arm onto the carpeted ground.

“My apologies,” you say flatly with a step forward. Yet you halt at Gojo’s bloody hand, which forms a sign and points to you. “But you were given multiple chances to stop and still ran.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect me to do when you’re being chased by a dark sorceress and two pushy demon hunters,” he spits blood to the side before averting his gaze to the door. “Whom I can sense hiding with a weapon and shikigami, by the way—not cool, Nanamin!”

“Not my name.” Nanami bluntly retorts before you continue.

“You know why we were chasing you down, Gojo. You’ve been frightening the townspeople for the past three moons, an issue that’s been troublesome enough for the church to seek my help.”

Six eyes roll with the click of the teeth. “Mch, traitor, outed by a fellow outcaster.”

“Know it wasn’t my initial choice. Besides,” you move the slit of your dress to open the bag of your thigh. Your forefinger and thumb pull out a green liquid tablet. “You should be thankful that I’m the one capturing you and not killing you here and now.”

You throw the tablet in the demon’s direction, who catches it with his tongue and gulps it down. Instantly, a grumble of stress and pain befalls Gojo, his hand returning to the wound you’re responsible for. This time, tissue muscle regenerates and stitches itself back into its earliest mode, rebuilding his shoulder until the skin morphs back and restores the tattoo that once sat there. “Haaahhh…how thoughtful of you.”

“Stand down now, Satoru,” you cross your arms and crouch. “Leave this place and return to the demon realm where you’ve agreed to stay.”

“No can do, witch. I ain’t going anywhere until I get what’s mine.” Now that his injury is sealed, he stands up to dust off his pants and stretches. “And seeing that you’ve finally crawled out of whatever hole you’ve been hiding for three months, looks like you’re ready to return it.”

A neutral expression remains. “I’m not giving it back.”

“Then I’m not going back — not like I have any interest to anyway; it’s sooooo boring there.”

“The last time I had to come after you and your antics was with Yaga half a year ago,” you caught the slight narrow of his eyes at the mention of the retired demon hunter. “And the only reason you still walk among the living is because you agreed to his conditions that you return to the demon realm and give me half of your Limitless and Infinity.”

“Agreed or getting hit by the old man until I said I would?” He jokes, but he points to his head where the former hunter had beaten the young ghoul with the sheath of his sword. “But I don’t sense him with you. Guess the geezer finally retired, and not many huntsmen are up to his level now,” Gojo spaces his feet to steady his stance, putting his fists up with a smirk. “Meaning it won’t be too hard getting the rest of my power back.”

You lift a brow. “You underestimate me.”

“Can’t help it,” all his eyes laminate to a brighter hue. “You might be a sorcerer, but you’re still human, flesh and bones that can break easily with or without my Limitless.”

“You think you can break me.”

Metallic nails sharpen with a flex, “Without a doubt.”

Silence shays between you two briefly before you stand right back up. “Then you’re just as foolish as any other human.”

At the final word, the huntsmen dash into the room and begin to charge Gojo’s way, running past your figure as you recite spells. However, the demon’s eyes shine expectantly, slashing his hand filled with energy to dart red crescent-like blades to the men. They dodge and go in opposite directions. Nanami uses his blade and aims for Gojo’s forearm—no damage, used as a shield with his Limitless.

“Nanami~n, how’ve ya been?” The monster asks with a chipper, nonchalantly pushing his arm to push the fair-haired man back. “It’s been a while; I haven’t seen you since you came to get me and Suguru from an old pub!”

“Yes, I remember,” Nanami voices with slight reluctance, sneaking a dagger into the abdomen only for his wrist to be caught by the demon’s tail. “I also remember my superiors warning you and Geto-san to quit causing trouble.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that? Staying in the demon realm is dull and boring. But here,” Gojo puts Nanami on his back with a swift swipe of his leg, kicking him to the chest for a strained groan. “Here is not much of a buzzkill; humans flock to this planet like sheep, little playthings that never cease to entertain me.” He places his foot on the other’s chest, biting his lips after a lick. “…And sure tasty as hell.”

In a flash, the three-limbed shikigami lurks to headbutt Gojo off of Nanami, propelling him into the direction of Higuruma, who stands ready with a sword in position for a slash. Gojo notices him in his peripheral and maneuvers to land on the wall beside the older hunter at the last second. “Hm? Hey, you’re new.” The ghoul gives the dark-haired man a punch to the cheek. “How long have you been in the guild, big-nose?”

“Five months,” Higuruma admits airly as Gojo swerves from the lunges of the steel sword. “But I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“Ehhhh, who woulda thought I was that famous!…Huh?” Something emerges beneath Gojo’s shadow, pulling the demon in and swallowing his body halfway into the wall. “And a shikigami user at that? Heheh, demon hunters might be becoming interesting this time around…”

Higuruma backs up once Gojo is consumed wholly by his umbra and disappears into the wall. He turns to you, “Is that it? How are we supposed—“

You cut him off. “Get back!”

The spot where the shadow that was once plastered on the wall appears again; this time, the dark shape changes from its black shade into a radiating sky-blue hue. Then, Higuruma backs away, cracks from the glowing tone flourish around the wall, and the old paint withers with ash. “Stay ready,” you warn with your hands coated with energy for whatever comes your way.

A fist emerges from the wall, two hands pulling the spot apart to create a more prominent crater. The fire in the fireplace is sucked inside the glowing hole, and blue horns and silver hair poke out with the torso. “Haaah, being sucked inside your own shadow is suffocating, ya know.” Six mischievous locks on the older hunter responsible for such a sneak attack. “Maybe I should give you a taste of your own medicine, newbie.”

Nanami doesn’t give him a chance, throwing a dagger to penetrate Gojo’s Limitless and pierce his forehead. A cry of pain is expectant yet not given, the creature pulling and discarding the weapon to let the wound heal. With a chuckle, he licks the blood drizzling to his lips. “That wasn’t nice, Nanamin. Be patient and wait for your…turn!” Gojo darts out of the wall with inhumane speed, the sand-haired man barely ricocheting the nails, eager to carve into his skin. Rapid kicks guarded and calculating every move, Nanami does what he can to keep up. Until a punch to his face knocks his goggles off, and a kick to his gut has him projected to another side of the room.

You clap your hands together, the power within your fingertips emits spider-like strings intertwined, and Gojo stops moving. The right hand comes up and slowly goes down, and Gojo suddenly goes to his knees with his hands up above as if holding – or preventing – something from pushing him onto the floor. “So much for ‘breaking’ me, huh.”

“—Khhh, fuck…” He grouches, trying to writhe from whatever spell you’ve enacted, yet appears more difficult than he figured. “Give me my…powers back, witch!”

“Surrender, now, Gojo Saotru.” Higuruma appears from behind, hailing his sword down to stab the vulnerable target now that he’s under your control.

“F-Fat…fucking chance!”

…Not entirely, though, forgetting one thing that acts with a mind of its own: Gojo’s tail. The thing extends to wrap around Higuruma’s wrists, squeezing painfully hard to throttle him and the weapon to the floor. Then, pupils dim from the glow of Gojo’s Six Eyes, directing onto your frame and blinding you instantly. Fuck! Whether you open or close your eyes, all you can see is the blinding strains of blue eyes that block your vision, your hands coming to your face and undoing the spell.

“Sorceress!” Higuruma calls out to you, standing up to initiate combat with the demon. Yet, Gojo already appears from behind and hits his nape hard, and the huntsman has no choice but to submit to unconsciousness. But that’s not all; he then grabs the knocked-out man and throws him in your direction. An action you couldn’t foresee and unfortunately got caught up in, unable to enumerate the force of the throw that has both bodies break several walls that lead to an empty room.

Nothing but pain stimulates your senses, aside from the disorienting eyes obstructing your vision slowly fading. You blink frequently, your body aching so much every time you move as you turn to your left where Higuruma’s immobile body lays.

“Hiromi, wake up…Hiromi!” It’s no use; his name isn’t enough to wake him, nor the slaps you pepper on his cheek. “Ghh, of all times to nap…Wake u—“

You hear a sound from the front, your head turning instantly to find a body before you: teleportation! Two fingers press to your forehead, and you, too, become immobile before succumbing to an abrupt rush of sleep. And the last thing you saw was an annoying, insolent grin on the face of a man with horns.

Oh, shit…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Nmm….mmm…”

You awoke to the sound of groaning, eyelids straining to rise. Moving a single muscle in your arm hurts like a bitch, pain permeating throughout tissues and nerves connected. The ringing in your ears begins to disappear, yet nevertheless irksome.

A few blinks ease the bleary eyes, registering that you are not in a familiar setting. The ceiling is easy to make out, and some warm lighting picked up, too. Must be candles. Old paintings, a dresser, and a nightstand — without a doubt, you weren’t in the living area anymore. You are now stuck in what appears to be a bedroom.

“Ghh…! Ahh, shit…”

That noise again. Turning to your side sluggishly, you see Higuruma’s figure lying parallel to you. “Hiromi,” you whisper to him, his name heard as the man grouses again. You place a hand on his shoulder; his clothing is sullied after being thrown around like you. “Hunter, are you all right?”

“Nnmm, yeah, I’m okay.” He answers, head still processing what has transpired. “Fuck, that was a throw. My head hurts…”

“Yeah, I know, you were knocked cold.” Your head turns to the sides; to your left are the windows that lead to the outside, and a couch sits to your right. “This must be one of the bedrooms of this mansion.”

Higuruma finally opens his eyes. “We’ve been separated from Kento.”

“Yes, and I can’t seem to sense his energy anywhere. Same with yours…” Lips flatten. “Damn it, Satoru must’ve subdued me somehow.”

“Hah, man. This is not how this was—“

“—Mmph! S-Stop, Gojo…!”

“Wh~y? You seem to be enjoying it.”

Two pairs of eyes shot wide at the familiar voices, catching the attention of you and the demon hunter’s eardrums. You two don’t move a single centimeter, allowing the room to respond to your suspicions, and more sounds and noises enter the fray—more…questionable sounds, at that.

You and Higuruma look to the couch, the source of where the voices were coming from, or rather behind it. Slow movements are taken to precaution, the two of you making your way to the furniture to creep and rest your knees away from the hard floor. Slowly lifting your heads, you two investigate what’s concealed by the couch’s camel back.

And what you see is beyond what you had envisaged.

There’s a bed that stands, and old canopy curtains draped along the wooden frame give it a luxurious appearance. Candles and lanterns are turned on by either bedside, basking a warm glow that goes with the tranquil safety of a bedroom. However, you weren’t alone; two occupants also keep the room company, and they’ve chosen the bed as the safest leisure spot.

What comes to mind when you think of a bed? Sleeping, of course. Possibly a place of rest whenever you come home from a long day’s work. And perhaps, maybe other explicit activities your mind can think of…But something as explicit as seeing a demon giving a demon huntman a blowjob? Hardly foreseeable.

There’s no mistaking it: the white-haired spirit’s head bobbing up and down was an easy catch, his tail waving from side to side as you picked up muffled moans that were somehow mute to you moments ago. Slurping noises are heard from a distance yet are too erotic of a sound for your ears to expect in this scenario, nonetheless. Nanami’s thighs spread for the ghoul, jerking and fighting to bounce with bitten lips, rosy cheeks, and golden-knitted eyebrows, an expression you never thought you’d seen from such a stoic man as the young man.

Nanami throws his head back, hitting the backboard of the bed. “Hnnmmmshit…Gojo, knock it–ahhaa!!-offff…!” His hands restrained to his back, probably from magic.

Gojo lifts his head and spits on the head of the human male’s cock. “You say that, but look how hard you’re getting,” he strokes the hunter with vigor, the human under his grasp arching his back to the touch. “Damn, who would’ve thought you had something this big; guess that’s expected of a demon hunter, huh.” His tongue laps around the pink glans, climbing to the urethra to tease; Nanami’s legs quiver more. “And look at all this precum…What’s got you all pent up?”

“—Tchhh, fuck, you!” Chocolate eyes hone onto the monster’s figure. “You are what, always giving me more shit to do…Mmmm, can’t stay still in one place…”

“Nope! You, of all people, should know that” he kisses the underside up before claiming the tip for a harsh suck, resulting in a yelp darting out of the blonde’s mouth — you covered your lips. “Besides, isn’t it my job to keep you on your toes, hmm? I’d be making your days pretty boring without me around.”

Nanami observes Gojo retreat his mouth off him, substituting with his hand to stroke the erection to maintain the warmth and friction. The evil spirit draws his face near the hunter’s, all six orbs of his flushed expression, and he scoffs humorlessly. “You call it ‘boring,’ but I’d say any day where I don’t have to deal with the carefree and annoying Gojo Satoru.”

Gojo’s prominent eyes narrow with an impish glint, and his milky nose brushes with the pink of Nanami’s. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy my company. Especially with this mood, Na-Na-Min.”

You could not believe what played out before you: Gojo Satoru, one of [if not] the strongest demons to roam, kissing with the phlegmatic, young yet swift hunter, Nanami Kento!?!? Has the stars gone in disarray all of a sudden? Was there some dark omen befalling this hour?? You had no idea, your thoughts going a million miles to reach an adequate conscience. Yet how could you when you’re seeing the two opposites melt into the kiss, transitioning from a sweet peck into a more sinister and indecorous one!? Tongues exchanged within each other’s mouths, moans becoming louder with the increasing pace of Gojo’s hand on the excited hard-on. Such an unintended turn of events, especially for Higuruma — big wide eyes witnessing his subordinate be used.

The older huntsman brings you down to hide; however, the couch is no shield from the auditory commotion. W-What in the—what is the meaning of this? The two were in combat not long ago; how do we switch from a battle to an intimate moment like this? How long was I asleep for? Could Satoru have used something to cause Nanami to act like this? No, he doesn’t use spells like that; that’s more my domain…Unless, could he ha—

Your train of thought is put to a stop when something heavy lands on your right shoulder. Higuruma surprises you unexpectedly, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “Hunter?” You whisper with concern, shaking him by his arm. “Hunter Hiromi, what’s the matter? Are you fe—“

Words stop when you hear a deep inhale, and a shaky exhale exits from Higuruma’s lips. And then another, he turns his face to face where your neck is.

……Did…Did he just sniff me?

That’s not the weird part, though; the older hunter creeps into an area exposed from your dress’ cold shoulder. Another airy breath steams your skin before you’re met with something cold and hot. He kisses your collarbone slowly; the sensation makes you jump and stiff.

D-Did he just kiss me?!

“Hiromi?” You probe again, shaking him more. “What’s gotten into—“

“Sorceress,” his voice low to not grab the attention of the other men busy with themselves, yet loud enough for you to notice a behavior change. “My head, it’s…pounding like crazy…”

“Your head? Why, what’s—“ His head goes deeper into the crook of your neck, and your heart nearly leaps out your throat from his lips, kissing you again with a light puff. The contact has you suppress a gasp; your nerves under his mouth are hypersensitive for whatever reason! Okay, what the fuck? “Wh-what’s wrong? Why is your head aching all of a sudden?”

“You…smell so good.”

Wow, that’s not an answer you prepared for, both in mind and body.

Speaking of body, Higuruma’s hands creep on your frame, his left glides to your shoulder to hold – the calloused pads of his fingertips send shivers up your spine – and his right comes to wrap your waist, pulling you closer to him. And he begins to pepper your reactive skin with more kisses, sucking the flesh with a pucker after a lick. The soft smacks of his lips get wetter, and heat from your cheeks is more complicated to avoid.

“Hunter Hiromi…! Snap out of i—Ohhmm!!” Your lips clench to halt the yelp, almost jumping out of your esophagus. Fuck, why am I so fucking sensitive!? Hushed complaints fell on deaf ears, Higuruma still latching his lips onto your warm skin to suck.

It was then you looked at your bag positioned at the exact spot you were unconscious with the huntsman, tiny valves you stored sprawled out of their organized system. Then, you notice one shattered, pink liquid exuding to the floor burns into gas that fades with the atmosphere. You’re familiar with the potion you see, and your confusion switches to utter dread.

Before leaving on this mission with the huntsmen, you specifically remember telling your witch-in-training, Miwa, to stock up on your mini potions within your bag for defense. Knowing how ditzy that young, blue-haired witchling can be, she probably thought you meant every glass you had — no wonder the shit was a little heavier than usual!

Finally, it all begins to click: the flush of Nanami’s cheeks, Gojo’s unexpected sexuality, Higuruma’s demeanor switch, and your nerves acute at every touch — you got to be fucking kidding me! That broken vial was an aphrodisiac harboring a musk so strong it could bring down a humongous orc within minutes, a spell you had crafted for a customer only for your witchling to misplace it. Now, you’re here reaping the consequences in the worst situation possible! How did it break in the first place?! It could be from when you were thrown through multiple walls and went tumbling to the ground, the effects taking fruition when Gojo knocked you out earlier.

And to make matters worse, you’re not the only one undergoing this; three men now act like absolute horndogs because of this mistake, taking this mission to a complete 180° turn. Just when you thought this task was difficult enough, a curveball such as this throws you off. Unbelievable!

“For crying out loud,” you curse under your breath. “Hiromi, try to fight it! This isn’t—“ he kisses up your neck to your chin, and your attempts to push him off are weaker the closer he inches. Muscles tense when the hand to your waist glides to the crevice of your bottom — and a twitch between your legs. “Stop! Now is not the ti—Mmnn!” He cusps the flesh of your asscheek, bringing the other hand down to grope your ass. Holy Christ, “N-N, wait! Don’t touch it like…Haahhh.” Fuck these damn aphrodisiac effects!

“Fuck, you smell so fucking good, sorceress,” Higuruma inhales your scent brazenly. “That perfume is driving me nuts.” His fingers are hungrier as they fondle your butt, forcing you to rock your hips with his rhythm. The huntsman comes to your ear; his hot breath brushing the lobe causes your skin to crawl. And then he gives it a lick, and you jump.

“F–For Christ’s sake!” Your heartbeat hammers your chest. “Don’t do that, I’m sensitive…!” He doesn’t listen, lathering your ear with more licks and kisses. It sounds so erotic; his groans up close to your propinquity that you don’t know what to think right now. The heat between your thighs gets intolerable, imbuing your lower region more and more. “Don’t lick iiit…Ahaah…”

The both of you mesh together in each other’s warmth, Higuruma’s touches growing bolder to prompt you to bite down and stop your moans from getting louder. Your hands are still on his chest, yet exhibit not that much of a push, allowing the man to do as he wishes to make your brain turn into mush. Before you know it, his hands find the slits of your dress and meet bare skin, and you gasp at his calloused fingers ravaging your pantie-covered butt. Fingernails dig as he roughly kneads your rear muscles, silent screams pulled out of your body.

“Ughh, I can’t,” he speaks softly. “I can’t stop. I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, but” before you know it, his weight adds onto you and forces you to lie on your back. Great, now you’re really stuck under him. “I just can’t…you smell way too good. And you taste so good, too,” he peppers your cheek with a smooch just centimeters away from the corner of your lips. “God, you taste too good; it’s like I’m addicted.”

“Hahh–H-Hunter, not here…We shouldn’t—“

“No, stop,” Higuruma finally lifts his face; your field of vision met with glassy, hooded eyes and furrowed brows. Strands of his onyx hair fell out of its pushed-back form and stuck to the beads of sweat on his forehead, and a flush of red cascaded from one ear to the other. He’s heaving so desperately — as composure stands out, he looks awful! “Keep calling me…by my name.”

Your breath hitches as his face draws closer. “Hi–Hiromi,” and closer. “Hiro—Ohh!—…miii.” His knee meets the area between your legs, pushing onto where your underwear guards your chasm. And the thought that a potential wet spot might be protruding is embarrassing to think about.

“Good girl,” he praises, lips hovering tantalizingly over yours. “Good girl…”

Finally, after many teases all over your body, Higuruma places his lips over yours to claim. The kiss ignites a fire, instantly combusting within your nervous system and leaving you hot. The heat inside your panties worsens and has you writhing under him, hands grabbing onto the back of his black undershirt as he pushes his face into you more.

He drinks your squeaks, and his tongue slithers on your bottom lip, nibbling on it to evoke more helpless whimpers. “So sweet,” he mummers. “You taste so sweet, baby…”

Baby!? You had to be dreaming, your heart beating way too fast under these conditions, and your cunt spasming involuntarily. I can’t give in to this potion, I can’t…!

You chant these words internally, yet you can’t stop the quirks of your inner walls as Higuruma pushes his tongue to your teeth. It wasn’t suspected, your mouth opening up in surprise, not knowing that was exactly what the older huntsman wanted for him to intrude into your oral cavity with his wet muscle. You gasp aloud, the sensation of his moist tongue swirling around your mouth and dancing with yours tightens the grip on his shirt.

At this point, everything is happening all at once. You don’t realize your resilience slipped as you whine underneath the man’s bow, heads turning to stay locked with each other’s lips as the pecks grow prurient by the second. Your hips sway to and fro on their own, alongside Higuruma’s, as his hips rock to your tempo. Your legs came around his waist to keep him close, too enamored by him sucking your tongue to even notice.

Then, all of a sudden, something sneaks inside your dress and ventures south and pushes the damp spot of your underwear into your leaking cunt. Electric shocks shoot to your head, and it takes everything in your power not to scream. “—Thhh!! F-Fffaahhh…!! Hi-Hiromi, what are you—“

“Holy shit, I didn’t know how wet you were down here,” A finger presses down into the area, and more liquids flood out of your opening and expand the dampness. “Damn. It’s so hot.”

“Noo, stop it, don’t touch—“ the forefinger swipes up and down and gets swallowed by your clothed outer labia. Your legs quiver, “I’m too sensitized right now! If you keep touching me, you’re gonna–Aahhh!” He brushes your clitoris; oh, this is very bad. “I’m gonna break…!”

“Oh? But I can feel you aching under my fingertips,” he adds his middle finger to circle your slit, the movements tortuous to endure. “Doesn’t it hurt if I leave you just hot and twitchy like this? Don’t you want me to ease it?” You can’t reply, too distracted from his digits, pushing your underwear aside for them to feel the raw flesh of your bareness. “I think you do; don’t you feel how crazy you’re wanting my fingers inside you right now?”

“Stop saying that! It’s embarrassing…! Mmoohh…” Higuruma skims around the split of your vagina, and your breathing gets heavier. “—Nnnmm, fuck, it’s so hooot…”

He kisses your cheek and the corner of your lips. “It’s okay, baby, I got you…” He speaks so low you could melt. “Just relax for me, okay?”

You only reply to him with another passionate kiss, being way more receptive than the last by shoving your tongue into his. The hunter takes this to advantage and patiently pushes his middle finger into your slit. You whine at the insertion, mouth agape as the entire digit nestles inside your warmth. Higuruma instantly greets you with scrapes against your inner texture, the blunt of his fingertip itching your walls to the point of your toes curling.

The haze increases, coherent thoughts turn into fog, and your senses are overwhelmed by the lower commotion. You suck on Higuruma’s tongue with a hum, descending to the wiggle of his finger migrating your insides. Jesus Christ, it felt so good. Was it real, or was it because of the effects of the aphrodisiac, making every fiber of your body hypersensitive? Regardless, you can’t deny how enrapturing it is to have him ease your itch.

Once he adds his ring finger into your wet cavern, you grab hold of his shoulders as both digits push into you until they’re knuckles deep. “Oohhh, ohhhmyG—Hiromi, Hiro!” His name is the only thing that feels easy to blubber out. “I can’t, it feels so good…Ohhh, right there, please…”

“Yeah, you like it when I do this?” He curls both fingers to graze your upper wall, and you jolt upward. “Or…this?” He stretches them apart in a scissor motion, and you nearly choke on your spit.

“Sh-Shtop it,” you croak. “I’ll cum, I’ll fucking cummm!!” The chuckle you hear from above is smooth like honey, unable to fight the twitch of your walls.

“Go on, cum on my fingers, sorceress,” he coaxes. “And then I’ll go right between your legs, strip that underwear off, and lick you down for making such a mess on me until you’re sore and want nothing but my dick.”Ho. Ly. Shit. “You hear me?” You nod hurriedly, earning another short laugh. “Then cum, sweetie.” Higuruma increases the flick of his fingers, shoving them inside you as deep and fast as he can to where you don’t know how to contain your choked sobs. He gives you his lips again to quiet and calm you down while he effortlessly caresses your velvety channel.

Nonstop motions prompt you to buck your hips and arch your back until you feel as though you’re falling from a peak. Inner muscles spasm erratically around the hunter’s digits, legs tensing up with tremors, and your wails taken by Higuruma, who moans lovingly along with you. Your frame jerks to him with every wave of your climax, and shocks clatter up to make you dizzy and foggy.

“Mm, there you go, darling,” Higuruma coos before placing a chaste peck on your forehead, removing his fingers from you to see them coated in the fresh slick you’ve gushed. “So good.”

“Wow, what a show!”

Suddenly, the lukewarm feelings soothed around your figure abruptly halt once a new voice shatters you and Higuruma back to reality. Your eyes leave each other and look up to find six on your close-knitted bodies, blue orbs glued onto you two as if to examine you exceptionally near.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Gojo waves a hand. “Please go on~.”Higuruma is the first to make a move, but a firm grip catches his wrist, throws him into the air fluidly, and lands on the bed with no grace. “Not what I meant, newbie.”

“Satoru!” You try to slap him, but he grabs your wrist as well. “What are you doing—“

“Uhh, shouldn’t I be asking you the same question, witch?” He brings his face close. “I never took you, so stoic and all business, for a bit of pervert. If I knew you sounded cute and desperate having your pussy teased with, I’d have you wrapped my finger a long time ago.”

“Tah, I’m the pervert? You seemed to enjoy stuffing your face with Kento’s dick. Quite good at it yourself; is that your favorite sport? Something you like to do when you’re not terrorizing towns?”

“What, don’t know what it looks like to have a good time? And not to point fingers, but let’s not forget your potion has us all like this.”

You grimace. “Maybe don’t throw people at about five walls, or something will break!”

“Maybe don’t bring such powerful erotic potions to a battle, and we wouldn’t have that problem! But don’t worry,” Gojo then lifts you off the couch in bridal style. “You’ll take responsibility.”Before you could argue back, the evil spirit teleports you two back to the bed where he primarily was. Now, four bodies lay on the huge old yet soft mattress, all under the potion’s spell, and share a mutual lustful atmosphere. “How long does this aphrodisiac last?”

“…Two hours max.”

“Well, you’ve been knocked out for nearly thirty minutes. So, while we still have the time,” he pushes you off him to where Higuruma lies. “Why don’t you help these two with your mishap?”

“It was an accident—“

“Aye, an accident that now has Mister Big-Nose over here hard as a rock.” You look down to where Gojo’s pointing and see a tent jutting out of Higuruma’s pants. Your lips flatten at the sight, same with the owner of the boner. “Why the faces? What happened to all that talk about eating them out?”

“T-That wasn’t what—“

“Oh c’mon, newbie, you sure ‘bout that? Look,” Gojo maneuvers to where you sit and picks up a leg, moving your dress out of the way and removing your panties to discard. And now, your wet and sticky cunt is out for the men to see. Good Lord, Satoru!! “Look at how wet you made them feel back there; they were really excited about how good you made them feel. And I’m sure they look forward to your handsome face sitting in between their juicy legs.”

Had the silence been longer than a few seconds, you would’ve told Gojo off and left the other be. But the sound of an unbuckled belt is heard as you observe Higuruma sliding his pants down and revealing the erect limb free. The sight of precum sliding down the angry pink tip down to his balls is brain-altering. He then loosens his shirt, letting his stomach breathe, and your eyes catch the raven-happy trail from above his lower abs down to his pubes. Holy absolute fuck.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Gojo pushes you further. “There’s a nice face waiting to be sat!”

“Shut up!” You wish to throw curses at him all you want. However, you crawl to where Higuruma’s face is crooked and sheepishly lift your dress to place your knees and align yourself. “Please…forgive me, Hiromi.”

“It’s okay, sweetpea,” your heart skips at the nickname and his hands finding your waist. “Nice and slow, okay?”

You listen to his command and slowly descend your hips to Higuruma’s face, toes quirking at the brush of his noise hitting your taint. A sharp gasp leaves your lips when his tongue greets your labia, swishing around to intake the nectar dripping out of it. “Ohhh, shit…” You hum as he groans, your hips having a mind of their own and swerving around, yet the man beneath doesn’t fail to latch his lips onto you, his hands now curling to your butt.

A hand finds its way to where his erection stands tall, your fingers circling the shaft before motioning up and down. More excessive cum escapes out the urethra to paint your fingernails and tips, veins pulsing against your palm as you jerk him off. He then laments when your free hand cups his balls to massage, kneading one of the testicles gingerly like rough dough.

From your peripheral, you spot Nanami coming into view, and you cry out when his peer sticks his tongue into your opening and slurps. “Kento.”

“Sorry,” the blonde man stands in front of you while fisting his cock. “Might need your help here…”

You titter, hearing him sigh heavily as you bend down and blow on his cockhead. “May I?” He nods to you and caresses your cheek, guiding your lips to take in his tip and gradually swallow his inches. You suck him in till your mouth is busy with his length, moving your tongue around the underside, which makes Nanami hiss.

“Hahhh, fuck, yes, love,” you hear him from up above, his hands coming to your head to maintain while he jerks his hips into your mouth. His balls meet your chin with every push, and his musk is all that attacks your nostrils. The fog in your head makes you dizzier and dizzier, humming on the dick you’re swallowing.

And you can’t forget the snow-haired person who brings his hand to your chest area and rips the seams open. Your breasts are now out and exposed to the open air, and a nipple finds its way onto the flat of a reptile-like tongue. “Awww, cupcake, you’ve been hiding these tits from me, too? Heh, not fair…”

The only sounds that you can pick up are all raunchy, squelching noises from between your legs, slopping wet cues as you slurp on cock, and Gojo’s moans as he sucks and plays with your breasts. If you thought things were overwhelming earlier, you’re sure as hell finding yourself drowning in your senses. Gojo nibbles on your nipples, his teeth grazing the buds, and have your thighs jolt. Meanwhile, Higuruma’s hands keep your asscheeks glued to him as he drinks up more of your essence while pushing his tongue into your slit, fucking your insides for more fluids to coat his tastebuds.

Nanami’s hip work dials up to a faster tempo, stuffing your face with more of his cock to the point that he hits the back of your throat frequently. Your eyes start to water as you begin to taste the salty precum lathering with your spit. Yet you slurp on him with a whine, sucking harshly onto the top, where you push your tongue to the split of his urethra to toy with.

The sand-haired man throws his head back. “—Khhfff, fuck,” his head pounding while you dance your wet muscle around the crown of his shaft and frenulum. “Ohhhh, Goddamn it…! Just like that, my love, like that…”You listen to Nanami’s requests and continue, your hand stroking faster onto Higuruma’s cock with vigor.

“Very good, you three, very good…” Gojo eggs you on, removing his face from your chest and tapping your cheek to release the girth. “Now it’s time to switch it up.”The ghoul then pushes Nanami onto his back; this time, you’re straddling him while Gojo urges Higuruma to straighten up. “Nanami’s been such a nice guy, huh? Why not reward him with a taste of what this newbie was feasting on, cutie?”

Your eyes travel down to where Nanami’s cock is pressed to your belly, and you lift your ass and grab him to kiss your folds with his glans. You both share a look and whimper aloud as his tip makes it inside your vagina, thanks to your come, and you leisurely drop your ass onto him. “Hoooh, fuck, feels so good…!” You shrill, and your hips begin to go to and fro.

“And as for you,” Higuruma groans as Gojo takes hold of him and aligns his glans to your ass. “Fuck them good here, got it?”

The raven-haired man’s hands meet your buttcheeks, and you go ahead and bend down for him to get the full view. “Damn,” he gulps. Before doing anything, Higuruma moistures his fore and middle fingers with his spit and circles around your asshole gently until they get past the puckered sphincter. You remind yourself to relax as he readies your ass, his fingertips pushing in and out to adjust the cavern for what’s to come. And after a minute, he pulls them out and substitutes them for his ready member, and you scream in mute as he pushes himself into your rear end. “Oh, fuck, fuck!” He swears with a bitten lip. “So tight…Hahhh…feel so good, darling.”

The two human men rock into your holes simultaneously, having your frame join with the cadence they inflict to follow. Both your holes are ravished, Nanami’s dick turning your insides into goo with every graze to your sweet spots, and you almost shut down from the occasion of surprise pokes of your cervix. The man behind you plows your butt with purpose, shoving his member deep into your rear channel and rubbing on the walls that have you unable to fight the drool escaping.

And last but not least, Gojo grabs your chin and pushes his tip to your puffy lips. “Hey, baby. Mind I have a turn with those lips of yours?”You roll your eyes with a smile before curling your tongue around his crown and taking it inside your lips. The demon sighs under your lips, bucking his hips impatiently for you to suck every inch of him. “Fucking—Nnnmm! Your tongue…Gggahh!!”

All three men go wild in your grasp. Nanami’s pace slips to an erratic fashion, rutting deep with accurate rubs to your G-spot that leave you mumbling onto Gojo’s dick. Higuruma nearly loses himself while pistoning his pelvis to your ass, his forehead coming to your shoulder to rest. “Christ, your ass is driving me crazy.” He kisses the space between your shoulder and neck and bites down. You cry and suck on Gojo’s cock harshly, making the demon hiss above you.

“—Uugghh, so tight!” Nanami grabs your waist with firm hands and drills himself upward faster. “Fuck it, I need to cumm…!!”

“Me too, Kento—shit—me too…” His older peer slurs, burrowing his face into your neck to lick and nibble on your skin. “Almost..there….!”

It isn’t long before all three men come at you with a unioned tempo, and you’re way too engrossed in the sensations to notice how wet you’re getting from the constant pleasures. Your frame is used as their plaything as they fuck your holes, borderline degrading, yet you can’t deny how good they feel for relieving the horny itch you’re feeling. Fuck! More, more, more!! Continuous rough ruts to your chasms and mouth have you numb, and your scream is muffled as Gojo grabs for your face to bury his cock deep into your throat as he dispenses his load into you.

Nanami and Higuruma aren’t far from joining him, too, the two climaxing simultaneously and filling you to the brim with their white, thick essence. Groans bounce off each other and the bedroom walls; three bodies pant heavily and heave above and beneath you, as they experience the peak of their crescendos. And after a few more thrusts and jerks, they soon allow themselves to slide down from their high.

The huntsmen from behind take his cock out of your ass, a string of his cum still linking to your puckered hole. Now, with him off, you swallow down the last of Gojo’s semen before withdrawing your face and raising your hips off of Nanami’s dick.

Gojo comes to you to place his forehead on your sweat one. “Holy shit, that was good,” he praises as he cups your cheeks to squish them. “That’s one way to take me down. But, are ya ready to let me fuck that pretty cunt of yours?”You don’t say anything, just grabbing his chin to lure him into a kiss, which he anticipates…

…However, he doesn’t meet your lips as expected. Instead, while he’s distracted, you sneak a hand to the chain that wrings around your neck. A locket that you open the pendant to grab for a tablet and quickly shove it inside Gojo’s mouth. Six eyes widen as you cover his mouth shut, forcing him to swallow whatever it is that’s inside his oral cavity.

And before he has the idea of pushing you off and overpowering you, Nanami is quick to grab hold of his arms and restrict them to his back. Higuruma takes his lesson from earlier and grabs Gojo’s tail before it goes around, making people fly off. It takes a group effort; however, the freakish devil’s strength weakens in seconds, and his eyes roll until the lids fall over. Slumber hits the creature, unconscious both in mind and body, as his figure slumps on Nanami’s chest. The blonde hunter gently places the white-haired being down as you all watch him fall into a deep sleep.

“Finally,” you exclaim and let your body fall to the mattress in exhaustion. And the other huntsmen do the same. “For God’s sake….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Thank you again for your help, demon hunters!”

“Yes, we don’t know what we could’ve done without you two.”

“You two make the demon hunter guild proud; may Yaga recognize the talent laid after his years!”

The rain was long gone, exchanging its grey clouds with the gleaming shine of the sun and the vibrant blue of the sky. Everyday life finds its way back into the swing of things now that things are not in turmoil. And to close a mission down on a sunny day seems like a reasonable bid for closure.

Coming from your lair deep into the woods – after scolding your witchling, Miwa, for that aphrodisiac potion accident of hers and cooking a contraceptive tea – you walked toward the town to appear before the demon guild. Eyes and leers of the common folk linger onto you as you make your steps amongst them, ignoring their unconcealed judgment. Of course, it makes you uncomfortable that discrimination follows you every which way, especially after lending aid to the demon problem they so desperately needed. But alas, you didn’t come here for recognition, so you continue to walk until you reach the wooden tavern-like building.

At the front, you find a pair of familiar faces — Nanami and Higuruma — conversing with a local townswoman who thanks the huntsmen for their service. Neither party seems to notice your appearance the moment you tread closer to the front. Which is fine; again, you’re not here for celebration or acknowledgment. You’re so used to being cast aside that it practically feels innate.

That is, until you spot something beside the woman, a smaller being glued to her hip. A child, you pick up: a little boy with raven spiky hair similar to a sea urchin and slim yet puffy cheeks signature to a toddler. And his blueish green eyes are honed in on you unmistakably. It’s a bit of a funny image to see a tiny human be bold enough to look at you yet still hide their presence behind the shadow of their guardian. Whims of a child, you suppose.

The woman bows to the men with gratitude before heading off in business, only to stop in her tracks once she sees you. And to your surprise, she beams a smile. She is undoubtedly the child’s mother – her unkept hair proving hereditary. “You must be the sorceress, right?” She inquires, and you answer with a silent nod. “Good, because I wanted to come express my thanks to you and the huntsmen for having to take down that demon for our sakes! I imagine it wasn’t easy, nor was it something you wished to be burdened with.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” you shook your head as the woman bowed to you. “The demon and I have had multiple encounters before, and I’m the nearest person outside of town who’s well-versed in the demon realm and beyond. So, it’s only natural that I’d be pulled in to help the cause somehow.”

The townswoman nods along to your explanation, her smile still present. “Regardless, you did save this small city of ours. I don’t know how to thank you properly for your service, but I hope you know I am sincerely grateful you lent your prowess along with the hunters.”

“Your gratitude is well-taken. I ask that you try to stay far from trouble and be safe and vigilant.”

“Yes, I understand…And you, Megumi,” you both turn to the child you sensed observing you during the entire conversation. “Don’t you have anything you wish to say to the sorceress who saved our home?”

Quiet, the vibe you get from the silent kid who keeps his eyes on you as if you’re a stranger. Typical behavior of a child. He slowly comes behind his mother and pulls something out of his pocket. With delicacy and steadiness, his balled fist points to where you stand, and you decide to crouch down and extend a hand to him to place something.

“…Is this for me?” You ask. In your palm lies a green four-leafed plant, a clover. Not crumpled or torn in any way, ideally in its original form, and you could tell it was treated with care—a gift.

Megumi gives a curt nod. “I went to the fields yesterday with my sister and found some four-leaf clovers. Mama said they give good luck and protection to those with them. I gave one each for the hunters, so I saved this one for you.”

You have to be honest: you’re not one to gift-give in your profession. Hell, you’re not even accustomed to being handed gifts, either! It’s a custom foreign to you as you’re deemed as an outcast in many eyes of this town. Gratitude or hospitality isn’t something you’d expect from anywhere…But it seems that is different in a child’s world, for you can tell his heart is in a genuine place.

With a smile, you bring the clover to where your necklace sits above your chest. Muttering an incantation, the plant glows and disintegrates itself and is absorbed by the pendant of your locket. “Now, I’ll be sure to have good luck wherever I go, thanks to you, little one.”The young boy’s eyes flashed with wonder from your minuscule display of magic, flashing an awkward yet confident smile as you stood upright and bowed to him and his mother. “Be safe and strong for your sister and mother, Megumi.”

The child nods to your words before you bid his mother farewell, and the two spiky-headed ones walk by to wherever they came from, leaving you to the matters you initially intended to take care of.

Speaking of matters, “Sorceress,” you turn to find the huntsmen walking to greet you. Nanami is the first to talk, “You came in just in time. He’s awake now but still experiencing some grogginess.”

Higuruma adds on. “And we made sure to call him up to appear today, so things should be going smooth this time around, as you said.”

“Good,” you reply. “Thank you for your cooperation on this mission, hunters. The townpeople can return sleeping soundly now that Gojo isn’t around to cause a ruckus.”

“No, we should be thanking you.” The sand-haired man interjects. “Yaga had spoken highly of you and your professionalism during the handful of times you two had worked together. Without you, dealing with Gojo would’ve been more of a hassle I’d want to deal with.”

“Kento’s right,” the dark-headed one agrees. “Weapons and shikigami aren’t enough to bring down a strong demon lord such as Gojo; we needed as much help as possible. And it was an honor to see you in action for myself.”

“I thank you, gentlemen,” you say with downcasted eyes. “However, I apologize that it was on my bad that the situation went to a more…ridiculous turn,” you peer to see that the two men avoid your gaze at the nuanced mention. “Nevertheless, we can put this behind us and not bring it up with anyone else. Agreed?”

The two men nod concurrently.

“And, perhaps…If the wind finds me at the right time and you two wish to work together again, I would…consider it a little more lenient the next time.” Maybe you shouldn’t have said that because now you can barely look at the two huntsmen in the eyes. For crying out loud, you’ve seen each other naked; how can you ever work with each other again after such unprofessional circumstances?

But you guess they don’t seem to find a problem with it, seeing as they both share a smile at you. “Thank you, sorceress.” The older male speaks for both of them. “We hope to see you again when requiring your assistance.”

The younger hunter nods with soft brown eyes. “It would be wise to lend you a helping hand just as our former leader did for you.”

And for the second time today, a tiny smile returns to curling your lips before you straighten yourself up.

“Well, until then, what should we do with you, Gojo Satoru?”

Although the expressions of thanks and appreciation served as a pleasant stratum to begin the day, a conflict still needed to be solved. That is why the three of you walked inside, deep into the demon hunter’s guild, past the many hunters who watched you make your way to the hall at the back of the building. Many rooms are stationed to the right side, yet only one harbors a recognizable aura for you to trot in front of and open the door when no one is looking.

Lo and behold, the sole being in this cell-like room is Gojo Satoru, the ghoul sitting on the dirty ground with chains restricting his feet and wrists. Talismans with small writing decorated his biceps, shoulders, and abdomen, the mark of your subjugation as his power isn’t as high as before. It is positioned at a level where it occasionally bursts until it returns to a low steady.

“You tell me, witch,” the demon answers your question. “We’ve had this dance a million times already, sending me back to the demon realm and supposedly ‘promising’ not to come back.”

“Well, you are being sent back this time,” Nanami crosses his arms. “Yet instead of ‘supposedly,’ we’re going to have to make that a definitive.”

Gojo cackles, bearing his canines to shine. “Oh, bullshit. Me staying in the realm ‘forever’ forever when I’m aware that half of my Limitless has been stripped from my possession? Don’t you know you should never touch what belongs to a demon; whatever is taken from me might be taken from you tenfold.”

“That’s why there are demon hunters in the first place,” Higuruma sighs and slumps on the door surface. “Your powers were taken under contract after the carnage you caused last time. Judging by how we handle you this time, you might lose the other half of your Limitless.”

“This has nothing to do with you, big-nose.” Gojo retorts. “If I weren’t chained up right now, you’d be the first to jump at.”

The hunter raises a brow. “Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps. Although…” devilish lips curl to a smirk. “After what happened last night, maybe I’ll have some fun with you and Nanamin one of these days if—“

“Satoru.” You cut him off, the conversation steering to where it’s not supposed to go. Higuruma takes the white-haired spirit’s words for thought and stands up straight with more alertness, his blonde subordinate fixing his glare on the same. “If it weren’t for your status and relations with this realm, your fate would’ve been handled differently. Be thankful that it was me and the hunter guild who had to deal with you this time; anyone else would have your head on a spike and your body torched.”

“Awww, what caring babysitters you guys are~,” Six blue eyes roll in one direction with a click of their teeth. “Oi, witch, you know it doesn’t matter what you do with me. I could be thrown off the grid, shackled to the demon realm, held in some dark supernatural prison, or even killed — no matter what, as long as you’re the holder of half my powers, I will find you. And I don’t care if it means ripping your pretty face to shred; I’m getting my Limitless and Infinity back.” Eyes gleam with a fury, like ocean waves in a wayward thunderstorm. “Believe that.”

“I do believe it. And I will wait for the day you learn to find me, not vice versa.”You take his threat with earnestness. “However, until that day comes, I will reprimand you for this case. Along with the help of an old friend of ours.”

He sucks his teeth. “And who would that be?”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!

Gojo’s ears perked before the harsh bangs were put on the wooden door. You pan to Higuruma, who nods silently before he turns to unlock the locks and grip the handle. With the pull, a silhouette befalls into a vision of all four occupants in the room. A tall, muscular man who appears to be in his forties minimum, head-shaven except for the spiky top, adorning a wolf pet over his shoulders with leather slashes. Gojo’s six eyes widen when he sees the man’s face: the familiar thick eyebrows sitting above minor yet dominant eyes and a mustache and goatee adorned on the chin.

“W-Well, hello there, Yagaaa~,” the snow-haired being switches his demeanor to a chipper tune now that a new visitor has come to pay a visit. “What a lovely surprise to see you! You clean up nicely. Is that a ring I see on your finger—“

“Gojo Satoru.” A guttural voice puts a stop to the ramble. “Last time I saw you, I put you in a chokehold that had you screaming for your mama and promised I’d put you in another worse than that the next time I see you.”

You can sense the demon’s aura dwindle like a tiny flame, and you can’t help but find amusement; no one better to put the ghoul back into his place than Masamichi Yaga, the seasoned, skillful, and former commander of the demon guild. “Is…today the day?”

“Hmph.” The older man pulls up a chair to sit in front of Gojo. “Possibly, yet the sorceress pleaded for your case and told me to withhold until after our discussion.”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Miss Sorceress!” Now he wants to shower you with affection; whatever happened to that threat he made a minute ago? “That’s nice to know because I have a lot I would like to get off my chest before you sta—BHROOOF!!” Gojo’s cut off from a swift kick to the chin Yaga inflicts, causing him to fly to hit his head on the wall and fall to his back. “OWWWW?!!!??!!! What was that for?!”

“For bringing me out of my retirement,” Yaga cracks his neck with a heavy sigh. “You little bastard.”

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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moyazaika · 2 months ago

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tbh jaded lawyer darling trying to save yan crime kingpin from getting his ass thrown into prison for life — yet again.

he’s lingering at the court’s steps, entertaining the news reporters with a dazzling smile, the entire world waiting with bated breath to see whether this is the day his billion dollar criminal empire comes crumbling down—

“the whole world knows you did it!”

“are you ashamed of yourself?”

“do you really think you’ll walk away a free man after today?”

that gets his attention.

“darling, don’t ‘ya worry about me,” he turns to the journalist, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out his lollipop from between those lips, curled in a sly grin. “i ain’t gotta worry ‘bout no fuckin’ laws when i got the world’s best damn lawyer on my side.”

a young man, then. thick glasses and braces on his teeth. far too thin and lanky, for all his balls of steel as he speaks up. “are you implying that your lawyer is an accessory to your crimes? a corrupt lawyer for a guilty man on his way to the gallows?”

he hears you approach before he can think to respond. the familiar, expensive echo of the dress shoes he’d bought you the first time you’d won a case, before you’re there where he thinks you belong; right by his side.

“alleged crimes,” you correct, and your kingpin turns to greet you with a million dollar smile. “now, my client will not be taking any more questions. kindly, fuck off.”

cameras flash instantly and countless more mics are shoved into his pretty face, still mesmerised by you, even when you grab him by the back of his collar (unironed, you notice with absolute dismay) and pull him inside, away from prying eyes.

“you’re being tried for sixteen drug and weapons counts,” you hiss, digging your newly manicured nails into his skin, as you pull the lollipop he’s sucking on right out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and toss it to the side, seething. “when will you fucking get serious!”

he only dumbly stares back at you with a slack jaw, and stars in his eyes. his voice dips an octave lower, deep in his throat when he speaks. “oh, i could get very serious if you wanted to give me a kiss. or, y’know, maybe you could act as a replacement to that sweet lollipop of mine ‘ya just—oh, fuck!”

when you stride into the courtroom later, in your neat, pressed suit and slicked back hair, nobody dares ask why the infamous ‘alleged’ crime lord is following after you with a bruise blossoming on cheeks that flush a deep, deep scarlet.

the judge announces the jury's verdict, and you don’t even look up from the documents you’re perusing when he’s found ‘not guilty’ in a court of law, yet again—

“jesus fuckin’ christ, i knew you were gonna save me!” your kingpin jumps up from where he’s sitting besides you, pressing his face into your shoulder as he breathes you in with an elated, shuddering breath. “can’t even imagine which ditch i’d be rottin’ in without ‘ya, sweet pea.”

“excuse me, sir.” you pry his hands off you with a detached air of reservation you reserve for when the two of you are in public, but the way your knuckles are white when you gather the countless files and papers of yours scattered on your desk tell him everything he needs to know about how pissed you are. “hands off.”

he knows he’s in for it when the two of you get home, and yet, he looks forward to the sight.

it’s always more… exciting than it should be; when you’ve got him shoved right up against a well, going off about how ‘irresponsible’ and ‘immature’ he is, nails leaving his skin bleeding from how deep you sink them into his body, too caught up in your own irritation to notice or, honestly, care.

and maybe, he thinks, as he follows you out, tonight he’ll go pay a visit to someone after you’re done with him.

a man’s got needs, y’know?

he’s high off the rush of his latest win when he walks up the porch steps hours later. it's really only the latest achievement in a long line he attributes solely to you and your efforts.

he’ll make sure to repay you one day, with all you’ve done for him. he’ll take such good care of you; let you do whatever you wanted to him, as a token of his appreciation for how hard you've worked to keep him on the streets he rules and out of the prisons he knows he belongs in.

in fact, his efforts start right here and right now; on the steps of a nice, suburban house, that belongs to the journalist with thick glasses and braces and a wiry frame. the white picket fence and 'keep off the grass' sign do little to deter the man outside. then again, the poor bastard could have had gates of iron, and he still would have found a way to creep inside.

he never knew being a journalist paid so well. shit, maybe he should’ve gone down this path instead of, y’know, running a criminal empire. this bastard's got balls of steel, for what he had the nerve to say about you. but it’s okay! hey! he’s here to take care of it for you!

you don’t ever need to find out what he’s done in your name. ♡

he’s very adamant about this, choosing to see the job to completion all alone, slinking away from your critical, watchful gaze—only once he’s made sure you’re knocked out by watching you sleep, crouched by your bedside, for a few hours—to make sure the problem’s all taken care of.

the kingpin rings the doorbell, and patiently waits for the door to open with his scarred hands held behind his back. there’s a glock in his left back pocket, and a silencer in the right. a swiss army knife curled in his fingers, because he’s always been creative.

yeah, can you believe that? his teachers used to tell him he would make a great artist one day. and he is, he likes to think. only that his canvases are a little less traditional, and not in the banksy way. you know how it is! life imitates art... or some hippie shit like that.

there's no rules in art for what you can paint with, right? or what surfaces you can carve up into pretty shapes...

and so, when the lock clicks open, and the handle turns, it’s exactly like he said; a man’s got needs!

so sue him! really, so what if his needs mean his heavy hands are clamping over the journalist’s mouth, twisted into a silent scream—

so what if he knocks the smaller man back, a fist flying to his face, those wide eyes and all, slack jaw stupidly hanging open in disbelief—

so what if he shoves him inside and kicks the door behind them shut?

your kingpin knows what comes with the life he chose, and sullying his name is one thing—but nobody gets to drag your name through the dirt and live.

he makes sure of that, personally.

“where did you go last night?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the weekly newspaper in your hands. there, on the front page, a greyscale photo of you and your headache of a client, descending the court’s steps after the verdict. “and why didn’t you ask for my permission before you left?”

the headline, in big, bold letters, splashed above the picture; INTERNATIONAL OUTRAGE AS INFAMOUS DRUG LORD EVADES LAW YET AGAIN. SHADY LAWYER TO BLAME?

“just takin’ out the trash, lovely. don’t you worry ‘yer pretty little mind about it.” as he says that, he abandons his own breakfast, suddenly snatching the paper out of your hands and ripping it up, but not before noting the name of the article’s author, tucking it away for later.

shreds of the weekly paper you hadn't even gotten to read yet fall to the floor, fluttering this way and that. you close your eyes and smile. “haha. funny. well, my ‘pretty little mind’ is telling me to throw the coffee in my hands all over you.”

“tryna mark me up?” he purrs, “if you really wanna wake me up, can i suggest somethin’ else ‘ya could throw at me? or on me, really. but—”

“i’m going to kill you in your sleep, one of these days.” you deadpan, turning back to your food. he’s like a little kid, and you’re not about to indulge him by giving him the attention he so desperately wants from you.

“'yer serious??" he grins, hands flying to his face in elation, a curious blush colouring his skin a deep pink. “you mean you actually wanna step into my bedroom— at night— of 'yer own damn will?“

you take another sip of your coffee, fingers trembling around the cup. don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what—

“damn... guess i should start sleeping naked, then.”

extra; what if darling was a prosecutor instead?

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acid-ixx · 2 months ago

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brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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planetaryupscaled · 3 months ago

Text

Just Roommates

Male OC x Ryujin

Tags: 30k, smut, cheating, oral, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just get our own place,” muttered Ryujin, gazing scornfully at the stack of lease renewal papers scattered atop the kitchen counter.

She loathed the idea of her and her boyfriend, Tae, signing away an additional year of their lives in the apartment they shared with his buddy from college.

“You know I can’t stand being around that arrogant piece of shit anymore...”

“I know you don’t like him, but Junho is my best friend, and it’s just unrealistic for us to try and afford a place on our own right now, babe,” Tae replied. “Just one more year. By then we should have enough saved up to move out on our own, and you’ll have your degree. We just have to make this small sacrifice for our future, and besides, I know you’ll warm up to him if you give him a chance,” he added.

“I seriously doubt that,” Ryujin said through her frown.

Her boyfriend’s logic was sound though, and she couldn’t deny it was the sensible choice. She had moved in with the two men only a month prior, and she and Tae were barely earning enough to afford the shared living space they currently had. An additional year of hardship would end with her finally achieving her bachelor’s degree, at which point she could start her career and be stable enough to gain more independence.

Tae studied Ryujin as she contemplated his reasoning. He handed her a pen, and to his relief, she took it and began adding her signature to the many pages.

“Thanks, babe. I know it’s not ideal, but I really appreciate your understanding.”

“Yeah, yeah... But we should really establish some new rules around here. I’m getting sick and tired of Junho bringing random sluts’ home and disturbing our peace.” Ryujin took the opportunity to try and gain a little more control in the household.

Junho treated the place like he owned it, and Tae always turned a blind eye, allowing his friend to walk all over him. It was one of several reasons why Ryujin despised living with their roommate.

“That’s fair... I’ll talk to him,” Tae responded, now adding his signature to the document. He didn’t enjoy the thought of confronting Junho about his habits, and secretly wished his girlfriend was a little more easy-going.

Just then, the apartment door swung open, and Junho strolled in with his usual confident gait and cocky smile.

“Hey, roomies!”

His eyes fell to the freshly inked lease agreement. “Oooh, so we made up our minds, did we?” The tall, well-dressed man shuffled in between the couple and picked up the pen to seal the deal. Ryujin had to stop herself from ripping up the papers on the spot.

“Yup. One more year together,” Tae answered, grinning.

“Well this calls for a drink, doesn’t it?” Junho announced rhetorically, trading glances with each of them as he added his name to the many pages. Tae grabbed a bottle of vodka and some glasses, and poured the three of them a shot.

After filling in the last blank, and slamming the pen down, Junho raised his glass. “To another fun year!” The trio drank their shots, one more reluctantly than the others, and Junho continued speaking. “I mean, I could afford this place on my own, but it’s way more fun having you guys around! Plus we all save a ton of cash this way.”

Ryujin visibly grimaced. The man’s arrogance never failed to disgust her. “Before you get too carried away, I think we should discuss some things,” she said.

Both men turned to her, Tae looking nervous. “I think you should treat Tae and I with a little more respect. We live here too, and it’s not fair that you’re constantly coming home really late with different women, not giving us a heads up, and then being... unreasonably loud all night.”

Junho remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly letting her words sink in. Ryujin had the brief thought that perhaps she had finally gotten through to him, until he spoke.

“Jealous much?” He said sarcastically, laughing.

She crossed her arms, fuming, and he added, “C’mon... I’m just kidding. Ryujin. I get it. I’ll be better about that. I promise.”

Junho extended his hand towards her and she rolled her eyes, but shook his hand anyway. Before releasing her from his firm grip, he murmured under his breath, “I’d rather take your sexy ass to bed any night of the week...”

Ryujin recoiled, her expression twisted in disgust. “You’re a fucking asshole!” She raised her eyebrows at Tae, suggesting he had better defend her in some way.

“I’m sure he’s just kidding around...” The boyfriend muttered.

“Of course I’m joking!” Junho bellowed. “I would never, ever, try to steal you from Tae here,” he said condescendingly, wrapping a muscled arm around his smaller friend and jostling him around.

“If you were single though-” Ryujin’s icy glare interrupted him. “I’m just saying you’re a catch, okay? Learn to take a compliment!”

“I’d prefer if you never complimented me again! I don’t want any of that from you,” she explained sternly. Junho’s crude comments highlighted another major reason she disliked him. He was always stealing suggestive looks at her, and making inappropriate remarks about her appearance. She felt as if he regarded her as nothing more than a sexual object. Whenever she brought it up to her boyfriend, he would minimize it, making excuses that his friend was just playing around, and that it was just his sense of humor.

“Alright, sheesh. Sorry...” Junho apologized with a hint of sarcasm.

The trio spent the rest of the night in relative peace, sipping drinks and discussing their days at work. Ryujin felt a mild sense of relief that she had at least confronted her unwanted roommate and finally spoken up for herself. Still, she knew that there was a long year ahead of her.

—

A few weeks later, Ryujin was finishing up an assignment on her laptop when a distressed looking Tae suddenly came home, far earlier than usual. “Everything okay, babe?” She asked worriedly, noticing he was carrying a large cardboard box.

“Fuck... I... Just got fired...” He replied, avoiding eye contact and dropping the container onto the kitchen counter.

“What!? Why?” Ryujin shoved her laptop to the side and rushed over to him.

Tae sighed heavily and began to explain, “I... It’s so fucking stupid... I backed up some sensitive documents on my personal drive so I could work on them here one night, and apparently that violates some confidentiality policy. I guess they scanned all the computers in the office looking for that sort of thing. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen... HR just called me into an office and told me they had no choice but to let me go.”

Ryujin didn’t know what to say or do. She had never seen her boyfriend so distraught. “Can’t you just give them the files back?” She asked, knowing it probably didn’t make sense.

“They demanded I turn over the drive to them, which I did, but they said it was policy to terminate anyone who broke that rule... Fuck!” Tae was pacing around the room now, pulling at his hair. “Now any accounting job I look for is going to ask why I got fired. This is not good...”

“We’ll think of something,” she said reassuringly, not really believing her own words.

That night, the worried couple broke the bad news to their roommate.

“Well, what are you gonna do? Y’all gonna break this new lease on me already?” Junho asked, looking less calm than his usual self. “I was counting on your guys’ portion so I could invest more.”

“I don’t see any other option. There’s no way we’ll be able to afford rent right now. Any extra money we had has gone towards Ryujin’s student loans...” Tae lamented.

Junho fell silent for a minute or so, his eyes darting back and forth, when an idea occurred to him. “Tell you what, I’ll cover your share of the rent until you get a new job.”

“Huh? No... No, you can’t do that,” Tae brushed off his friend’s proposition.

“I can. I’d rather just front you the money for a bit than deal with trying to find a new roommate. Way too much of a hassle,” Junho argued.

“Bro, I appreciate the offer, but that’s asking way too much of you...I don’t even know how long it will take me to land another job.”

“I’m sure it won’t take that long. Besides, where would you even go? Everywhere remotely close to Ryujin’s school is just as expensive if not more, and where would you get the cash for a new security deposit and all that shit? As far as I can tell your options are here or the streets.”

Junho’s words hit both of them hard. They hadn’t even had the time to consider how desperate their situation was. He was right. As of right then, they didn’t have enough money to live anywhere, let alone even be approved as tenants with their current situation. Ryujin chimed in first, “I could try to find a part time job or something...”

“No, your focus is still getting your degree. I don’t want this to fuck up our future. Plus, that wouldn’t be enough income anyway,” Tae replied. “I guess... since there’s no other option... We’ll have to take you up on your offer, Bro. I’ll pay you back when I can of course.”

“Don’t worry about the money. You guys can start paying me back right away, in fact,” Junho said, grinning smugly. “Hear me out... You won’t owe me a dime for the rent I cover while you’re out of work, but... Ryujin has to sleep in my bed three nights a week.”

The room fell dead silent, the couple doubting they had heard him correctly. Tae simply muttered, “What?”

Ryujin felt her blood boiling, and stammered, “You must be fucking joking...”

Junho chimed in again before they could process his ridiculous demand any further. “I’m not joking, and before you get any ideas, it’s not a sexual thing at all... I would be spending a great deal of cash to help you guys out, and I would need something big in return that makes me feel like it’s worth it-”

“Not sexual my ass! What in the hell are you talking about?” Ryujin interrupted, her face bright crimson. She shot a glance at her boyfriend, shocked he wasn’t more outraged.

“Well, for one, I just prefer having a woman’s company. It helps me sleep better, but it’s getting a little tiresome having to go on all these dates just to find a new bed buddy. They always want a relationship, and I’m not interested, so I have to go out and find someone else all over again. It’s expensive too, and since I’ll be a lot shorter on cash in the near future, having Ryujin around will make that whole situation a lot easier on me,” Junho explained calmly.

“...Sleeping buddy? You expect us to believe that!?” Ryujin challenged him. “There’s a lot more than sleeping going on in there, which we are forced to listen to all the time by the way.”

“Sure, we usually end up fucking, but my point is that I want a break from all that without having to sleep alone every night.” Junho continued the level-headed explanation of his terms, despite the mortified look on his roommates’ faces. “Plus, it bothers me that you hate me so much, and this will give us some time to get better acquainted. It’s honestly a great deal for you guys. Just think it over, and let me know.” With that, he turned for his bedroom and left the dumbfounded couple standing awkwardly in silence.

“So... we’re obviously not doing that,” Ryujin said finally.

“Yeah, no way. We’ll explore our options more tomorrow,” Tae agreed.

“Why didn’t you say more? You just stood there while he suggested the most degrading thing! Some fucking best friend you got there...”

“I know... I’m sorry... I mean it is a lot of money. He just wants us to take it seriously I guess-”

“Are you actually defending that creep? What part of how we’re handling this isn’t fucking serious? To suggest that we pay him back like... ugh... like I’m some fucking whore...”

“Let’s just go to bed. We’ll figure something else out.” Tae muttered, feeling overwhelmed.

“I can’t believe you. Both of you!” The young girlfriend yelled in anger and stormed off towards her bedroom, slamming the door.

—

The next week or so was nothing short of problematic for the young couple. They did not discuss the preposterous proposition their roommate had made, and focused all of their energy on finding a solution. Tae and Ryujin spent hours browsing apartments and rooms to rent, but no matter how they crunched the numbers, there was simply no way they could afford to sustain themselves. The cost of rent had increased drastically in the entire region, and every listing they browsed left them feeling more desperate.

Ryujin avoided Junho entirely. The fact that he had referred to her as an object for trade made her skin crawl, and yet his twisted deal clawed at the back of her mind. The notion that all of their financial troubles could be washed away in the blink of an eye was becoming harder to ignore as the situation worsened.

Each passing day, she considered the offer a little more seriously, rationalizing away the absurdity of it.

One night, the couple lay in bed after a failed attempt to have sex. The dire circumstances had drained Tae of his libido, and his desire to share some shred of pleasure with Ryujin proved impossible. On the verge of tears, he whimpered, “What are we gonna do...”

Ryujin felt a pit in her stomach. They couldn’t go on living like this. She felt a sudden surge of guilt, knowing that she could end their suffering at any time. After an exasperated sigh, she mumbled, “What if... we just try it out... for one night...”

“No... There has to be another way...” Tae replied.

“But there isn’t. We just need more time. I’m willing to give it a try... As long as he plays by my rules.”

“Are you sure, babe?”

“Ugh... no... but I’ll do it for us. It would probably just be a few times until you find another job after all, right?”

“Right. I love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight.” Ryujin curled up and tried to sleep, but the knowledge of what they had just agreed to had tied her stomach into knots.

—

The following day, after hours of unsuccessful job and apartment hunting, the couple were a bundle of nerves as they waited for Junho to get home from work. When the moment finally came, he could tell immediately that there was an abnormal energy in the air.

“What’s going on guys? Don’t tell me you found a new place...”

Tae cleared his throat. “Ehm... No... We... were talking, and...”

He didn’t need to finish for Junho to figure it out. His friend’s awkward speech pattern and Ryujin’s scornful body language made it quite clear.

“You’re agreeing to the deal?” Junho asked, grinning.

“Yeah...” Tae muttered.

“But just a trial! If you can prove to me that you’ll be a gentleman through this, and not your usual...” Ryujin had to stop herself from hurling one of several cutting insults that were on the tip of her tongue, “...self... Then maybe this can work out.”

“I will be the perfect, platonic roommate. I promise. Let’s drink to it!” Junho hurried to pour shots, and the three of them did their best to enjoy the evening. After several rounds of drinks and some light-hearted discussion, the group was about ready to call it a night. No one had made any mention of the impending strangeness that would occur when they eventually decided to go to bed, but the time had come.

Ryujin was feeling fairly intoxicated as she kissed her boyfriend goodnight. It was the strangest feeling knowing they were going into separate rooms, but she had made up her mind and wasn’t going to turn back now. Surprisingly, Junho had actually been tolerable for the past couple of hours. She knew he couldn’t have actually changed that quickly, but to see him at least making an effort was a good start. After reluctantly parting ways with Tae, Ryujin followed her roommate to his doorway.

“You’re wearing that to bed?” Junho asked, examining her outfit.

She hadn’t even thought about it. She would normally just strip down to her underwear or throw on a baggy t-shirt with nothing underneath before getting under the covers. Neither of those options would be suitable now. “Damn. Um... be right back.” She trotted to her own room, changed into some gym shorts and a tank top, and gave Tae another kiss before returning to Junho across the apartment. He was in the same spot, and held the door open for her to pass through.

“I know how to open a door you know...” She muttered.

“Perfect gentleman, remember?” Junho responded, chuckling.

Ryujin entered the room and noticed right away that it smelled different than hers. Some sort of foreign, masculine scent hung in the air, but it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. She realized she had never actually been inside his space before. The next thing she noticed was that the dwelling was surprisingly clean and tidy. She had figured a single guy like him would have been living more or less like a slob, as Tae had before she moved in.

“Which side is mine?” She asked, motioning towards the bed.

“I sleep on the side with the door so I can protect you if anything goes wrong,” he jested.

Ryujin rolled her eyes and sat at the far edge of the bed, which was the third discovery to subvert her expectations. The mattress seemed exceedingly comfortable, and she pressed it a few times with the palm of her hands to examine it.

“Good stuff, right?” He asked, watching her with a cocky smile.

“Not gonna lie,” she said, laying on her back and wiggling into the cushiony material a bit, “This might be the comfiest bed I’ve ever felt.”

“Well I have expensive taste,” Junho bragged. “Glad you like it though,” he added.

“Whatever... This is so fucking weird. Is it morning yet?” Ryujin complained.

“Not even close,” he answered wickedly.

“This whole thing was just a ploy to get under my skin, wasn’t it?” She asked.

“Maybe a little... Why do you hate me so much, anyway?” He asked, still smiling.

“If you don’t understand that by now, I don’t see the point of getting into it,” she snapped.

“Fair enough,” Junho said simply. He began unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off of his torso.

“Dude, can’t you change in the closet or something?” Ryujin chided.

“What? I’m not getting naked or anything,” he stated as he pulled his pants down.

Ryujin looked away. “What the fuck, Junho.”

“Relaaax. I always sleep in my boxers. No big deal.”

Ryujin glanced at him again. She hated to admit it even to herself, but the man was in incredible shape. She could see how he was able to pick up women so consistently. If he wasn’t such a prick he- she shook the thought away and complained again, “Can’t you at least put a shirt on?”

“My room, my rules. By the way, I do take tips,” he joked, laughing at himself.

“You’re the worst...” Ryujin turned to her side, away from him, and decided that the best way to move forward was just to fall asleep as soon as possible. The bed shuffled a bit as he crawled into it next to her, but that was the last disturbance of the night.

—

The sun cast its rays through the blinds and onto Ryujin’s eyes, which she made no attempt to open yet. In her semi-awake state, she felt her boyfriend pressed up against her backside, with his hand on her hip. She then felt the unmistakable bulge of his hard cock against her ass. Her pussy was wet and craving attention. She had been abnormally horny lately due to the stresses of life getting in the way of their sex life. Ryujin slowly rocked her ass back and forth along his hardness, hoping to stir him awake and finally share a long awaited steamy sex session.

She reached back to free his erection and guide it into her dripping slit. It would be so hot for him to wake up inside of me, she thought. Her slender hand dipped into his waistband and wrapped around his shaft. She froze. Whatever she was holding felt foreign, and it was far too big to be Tae’s dick. Reality came rushing back to her and her eyes snapped open. This wasn’t her room; this wasn’t her bed; and the huge cock in her hand belonged to Junho.

Ryujin gasped audibly and quickly pulled her hand away from him. She turned to confirm, to her horror, that it was in fact Junho that she was snuggled up against. He appeared to be fast asleep, which was a relief. She carefully rolled away from him, taking care not to wake him. She realized she had somehow ended up on his side of the bed, a further incriminating detail she would be horrified for him to discover. Her eyes ran down his broad chest and chiseled abs, landing on his massive dick, which was still rock hard and now sticking out of his boxers. Her gaze lingered on it for several seconds. It didn’t even seem real. She had the thought to tuck it back into his underwear for a brief moment, to cover up the rest of the evidence of her mistake. Realizing how unnecessary that would be, she left the bed and exited the room.

As the scorching water of the shower poured over her, Ryujin tried to get the vision of her roommate’s naked body out of her mind. Her pussy ached, begging to be touched, but she would not allow herself to succumb to the temptation. Especially not with the image of Junho’s big cock so fresh in her thoughts. She couldn’t believe she had actually touched the thing, and had never imagined they could get that large. “It was an accident. I didn’t do anything wrong...” She repeated the phrase to herself as she dried off.

Ryujin returned to her own bedroom to find Tae was still asleep. She dropped her towel and climbed on top of him. She took his soft dick in her hands and tried to coax it to life. She desperately needed to get the sexual urges out of her system.

“Good morning, babe. Rise and shine,” she said sweetly.

Tae stirred finally and greeted his naked girlfriend. “How was your night?” He asked right away. She continued to fondle him, but his cock remained as limp as ever.

“It was fine... Weird, but fine,” she answered simply.

“He didn’t do anything... questionable?” Tae inquired.

“No... We just went to sleep. Other than feeling strange to be in the wrong bed, it was a pretty uneventful night overall.” She had decided to keep her awkward mistake to herself. It was too embarrassing and wasn’t worth bringing up since it was just an accident on her part.

“Well that’s good, I guess. Um... Sorry babe. I’m just not feeling it right now,” He muttered, glancing at his softness in her hands.

“That’s okay...” Ryujin tried to hide her disappointment. She had hoped that his sex drive would have improved now that their financial burdens were taken care of, but it made sense to her that it could take some time.

Unfortunately for her, Tae’s libido did not improve much over the next week. He always found some excuse to explain why it wasn’t the right time. Hoping it would improve the situation, Ryujin did not pressure him to look for work. It became apparent that he had stopped searching, but she reasoned that a break was probably healthy after all of the stress they had gone through. A little vacation never hurt anyone, she reminded herself as she observed him settling on the couch and clutching a video game controller.

As for the nights spent in Junho’s room, Ryujin was adjusting to the new routine. Luckily, nothing unsavory had happened since that first confusing morning in his bed. He would verbally tease her and find little ways to press her buttons, but she always had an insult ready to fire back at him. An onlooker might have called it flirting, but she was convinced that she still hated his guts.

Overall, the arrangement was going smoother than she had expected. In fact, Ryujin was surprised to find that she actually slept wonderfully in his luxurious, comfortable bed, and always woke up quite refreshed. Every morning though, she would find that she had soaked through her underwear and would sneak out in shame before Junho awoke. Her sexual appetite had not been addressed and her body was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Ryujin chalked it up to the recent lull in her and Tae’s sex life, but there was clearly a pattern emerging where her most lust-crazed mornings were in Junho’s bed.

One morning in particular, she noticed with dread that she had somehow become draped over him during the night, her cheek against his warm chest and her bare thigh across his crotch. She felt the familiar wetness between her legs and an unfamiliar hardness beneath her. Ryujin glanced down to find that Junho’s sizable morning wood had escaped his boxers and was trapped under her inner thigh, just inches away from her barely-clothed pussy. She cursed herself for unconsciously ending up in a dicey position with him again. She didn’t move, just laying still to collect her thoughts for a moment. His arm was on her, running down the length of her torso with his fingers resting on her ass. It would be difficult to move at all without waking him.

Ryujin’s cunt was on fire, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from giving into the urge to grind against him. The thick mushroom tip of his cock seemed to stare at her, poking out from the soft skin of her upper leg. It looked so plump and juicy, at least twice the size of her boyfriend’s, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it might feel inside of her. If it were in any way possible to ensure he would remain asleep, Ryujin wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist guiding Junho’s hard dick into her dripping wet pussy. She had never felt so tempted in her life.

Finally, after several minutes of suppression, she managed to carefully squirm out of his embrace and free herself of the potential embarrassment of being discovered cuddling so intimately. To her relief, Junho didn’t stir in the slightest as she maneuvered her body off of his. He was seemingly out cold. Unburdened of her weight, his big cock stood tall, pointing straight at the ceiling.

Subconsciously, Ryujin’s hand had found its way down her shorts, and she lightly stroked her aching pussy while gawking at the exposed man. The pleasure hit her in an instant, her impossibly needy sex finally getting some stimulation. Before she fully realized what she was doing, the young girlfriend was firmly rubbing her clit next to her sleeping roommate.

Junho’s huge erection remained fully inflated throughout the duration of her sneaky self-indulgence, and she was fixated on it. She made a conscious effort not to lust over the annoying man beside her, but her mind wouldn’t let her ignore the physical specimen. That fat fucking cock was exactly what her body had been craving for weeks now, and the raw sight of it fueled her burgeoning climax.

Ryujin’s orgasm hit her hard. Her mouth hung open while she quivered on the bed for a solid minute. When the flood of endorphins pummeling her brain finally slowed, she felt a mix of satisfaction and disgust. It bothered her that she had given in to her body’s urges, especially because Junho had been the focal point. She hated him and his alluring cock for breaking her will. As silly and illogical as the thought was, she felt better about what she’d just done by shifting the blame. It was the damn boys that got her into this situation, and thus all of this was their fault. Ryujin took one last look at the nude man and quietly left the bedroom.

A smug grin spread across Junho’s face as he listened to her retreating footsteps. He had been awake the entire time, sneaking quick glances at Ryujin’s masturbation session. He stroked his dick to the thought of her sexy body writhing around on his sheets, knowing he now had the upper hand.

—

The following “Junho night”, as she began calling them, had Ryujin feeling more anxious than usual. She couldn’t control the movements her body made while sleeping, which made her nervous. She couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up first and finding her snuggled up against him. If he were to somehow discover how wet she was, he would never shut up about it. She tried not to worry about all of that as she got onto the far end of his bed and curled up. They traded a few sarcastic remarks while he stripped off his clothes, as usual, and the room fell silent.

“Uh... Ryujin?” Junho asked softly.

“What?” She asked, already rolling her eyes in anticipation of whatever he was about to say.

“Just thought I should mention. I’ve been like... extra horny recently. So, if I happen to have a big boner in the morning or something, I don’t want you to freak out,” he explained.

Ryujin scoffed at him. “Whatever man. Just keep it away from me.”

As Ryujin closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she began hearing a repetitive rubbing sound behind her. When it didn’t stop after several seconds, she turned to look at Junho’s side of the bed.

“Dude, what the hell is-”

The words caught in her throat as she saw that Junho had removed his underwear and was openly jerking off right in front of her.

“What the fuck!?” She shouted, bewildered by his actions.

“Shhhh!” He responded, looking at her sternly while his hand continued to pump up and down.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Ryujin threw the blanket off of her, readying herself to storm out of the room.

“I told you I was abnormally horny...”

“Well, take it to the bathroom or something!” She demanded, fuming.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to masturbate in here, but I’m not?” Junho sneered accusingly.

“I- What are you talking about?” Ryujin asked defensively, feeling her stomach drop.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you the other morning going to town on your little cunt. Right there where you are now,” he accused her.

“What!? That’s bullshit!” She argued, knowing it was hopeless.

“We both know it isn’t. But hey, it’s fine. You have my permission to pleasure yourself in here as much as you want, just don’t expect me to play by a different set of rules. Fair is fair.”

Ryujin moved to get off of the bed. She was humiliated and needed to get away from him. “Where are you going?” Junho asked, still stroking himself with a steady rhythm. When she didn’t answer him, he added, “If you leave, I’ll tell Tae everything.” She froze. “About how his not-so innocent girlfriend couldn’t keep her body to herself, and got so worked up over the sight of my big dick that she played with herself right in front of me.

“You wouldn’t...” Ryujin muttered, half-standing with one knee still on the sheets.

He nodded threateningly. “Don’t ruin this whole arrangement just because you got a little horny. I’m still keeping my hands to myself. Unless you want them on you...”

“I don’t,” she said, defeated. She lay back down in silence, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, but continued watching him.

“Glad you decided to stay. Gotta admit I’d miss my favorite sleeping buddy if you called this deal off,” Junho teased.

“When I call it off,” she corrected him. “This is just a short term thing.”

“Well, I guess we better enjoy it while it lasts, right?”

“You’re certainly enjoying yourself...” She grumbled.

“You could be too...” He suggested.

“You wish,” she said dismissively, trying to ignore the growing heat between her thighs.

Junho was surprised that she still hadn’t looked away. He was having a great deal of fun taunting her while he openly played with himself. “So what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“How do I measure up?” He glanced at his cock, and then back at her.

“Pfft. You’re disgusting,” Ryujin muttered. She shuffled a bit as if to turn away from him, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking back at his performance.

“C’mon. You can’t deny I’m packing an impressive instrument here,” he teased.

“You seriously think that just cause you wag your big dick around I’m going to instantly drop my panties?”

“So you do admit that it’s big,” Junho retorted confidently.

Her face flushed crimson. “Ugh... You’re so annoying...” She flopped over onto her side, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the scene.

“Ryujin...”

“What now?”

“I’m gonna cum. So hard,” he grunted.

She reluctantly turned to Junho again, just in time to see his thick cock jump and spurt a lengthy rope of semen straight into the air. Another creamy strand of his fluid shot out, and then another, each of them reaching preposterous heights before landing on his toned belly. Ryujin watched in amazement as her roommate ejaculated with more force and volume than she would’ve considered possible. On the surface she looked appalled to witness it, but her pussy burned with desire at the erotic showing.

“Fuck...” She murmured, lost for words and involuntarily squeezing her thighs together...

Junho cleaned himself off and settled into the bed. “Night,” he said smugly. He turned off the lamp and didn’t say another word to her.

Ryujin’s mind was racing. She couldn’t believe what had just taken place. How did things escalate so quickly? She just witnessed the man she despised jerk himself off to completion, and it left her extremely aroused, despite how badly she wanted to be disgusted. Her pussy was soaking wet and practically screaming at her to touch it. She tossed and turned for several minutes before ultimately losing the internal battle. Very quietly, her hand dipped into her shorts and she pressed her fingers into her aching entrance. For the second time that week, a conflicted Ryujin shamefully pleasured herself to orgasm in Junho’s bed.

—

The new routine had been established, and over the next several nights while they were together, Junho would strip completely naked and masturbate beside her. Ryujin would always act appalled, and call him out for being a pig, but she’d watch him anyway with a disapproving look. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to secretly touch herself under the blanket while he stroked one out, but she always waited until he was asleep to make herself cum. She couldn’t risk him knowing the effect he was having on her. She always came so hard after teasing herself while watching him, and privately began looking forward to her “Junho nights”, knowing the pleasure that would ensue.

One evening, as he fished his half-erect cock from his underwear, she asked him, “Do you do this every single night?”

He replied, “Honestly, only when you’re here.”

“Gross.” She scoffed.

“You’re so fucking hot, Ryujin. Just knowing you’re in my bed drives me crazy. It’s the only thing I can do to control myself,” he explained earnestly.

“Well, you’re disgusting, and you can’t have me,” she muttered, suppressing a grin. The rare compliment threw her off, and she couldn’t deny that it was flattering to know how intensely he lusted after her. It was a bit of a power trip realizing that she was off limits, yet so desirable that he had to beat off every time she was around.

Junho snickered. He knew it was just a matter of time before her will would shatter. “That’s fine. I’ll settle for my thoughts for now.”

“I can only imagine the perverted shit you conjure up in that thick skull of yours,” Ryujin said bitingly.

“Oh, I think you’d love it.”

“Try me.” Ryujin regretted the encouragement the second it left her lips. Her hidden lust had gotten the better of her.

Junho flashed a bright smile. “Well, speaking of trying you... I could, for instance, crawl between your legs right now and eat your little pussy until you were screaming for me to fuck you.”

His sudden directness spurred a small shockwave in her gut and her nipples hardened. “Pfft! You wouldn’t dare. You know this arrangement is over the minute you lay a finger on me, you ass.”

“It’s just a fantasy. Relax,” he replied calmly, still slowly stroking himself. “If that actually were to happen though... I’m positive you wouldn’t stop me.” Junho’s arrogance was making her blood boil, but her body was reacting to his dirty imagery. “Believe me though. I have a skilled tongue, and you’d be addicted to it in no time.”

“Fuck off. You are so damn full of yourself it’s sickening,” Ryujin remarked with her most disapproving expression. She could feel her pussy moistening by the second.

He noted that she hadn’t told him to stop yet. “Of course, that would just be the appetizer. Just a little warm up for the main event. Next, I would slowly kiss my way up your body until you felt this fat cock prod your slick entrance. That’s when the begging would really start...”

Ryujin’s cunt was burning now, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from attending to it. She couldn’t help a swift glance at his engorged dick, picturing its considerable size stretching her open. She became aware that she was biting her lower lip, and lashed out in embarrassment. “Begging you to leave me the fuck alone, you creep!”

“You have no clue what you’re missing. I know exactly how to please a sexy woman like you. I’d have you creaming all over my big cock the entire night. One experience with a real man like me would blow your innocent little mind. Then I’d blow my thick load deep inside of you and seal the deal...” As he finished his sentence, Junho’s cock throbbed and began launching the heaviest strands of sticky semen she had seen yet as he let out a deep, breathy moan.

Ryujin’s hand shot down to her panties, but she stopped herself, desperately trying to maintain control. She was soaking wet, and her thighs squirmed ever so slightly. If not for the blanket, he would easily be able to see how turned on she was. The sex-starved girlfriend felt her pussy drooling as she imagined all of that milky cum coating her insides. No one had ever cum inside of her before, and she wondered why the idea of it was suddenly so insanely hot. She was at a loss for words, and mindlessly said, “You’re gross.”

The look of deep conflict on Ryujin’s face was clearly apparent to Junho, who was studying her reaction carefully as his climax ran its course. “Go ahead. Ryujin. I won’t tell...”

“Shut up.” She hated him for putting her in this position, but her body wanted to give in so badly.

“Touch yourself. I know you need it,” he persisted.

“I do not.” Ryujin lied. Even as she said it, her hand was sliding back down her torso beneath the blanket. Her body was winning the battle.

Unbeknownst to her, Junho could see the subtle movements and grinned victoriously. “Don’t deny yourself. It’s natural,” he encouraged.

“Shut up.” She muttered again. Her mind was racing as her fingers dipped into her underwear and finally made contact with her aching pussy. A spark of ecstasy rippled through her instantly, her brain pleading her to continue.

Junho watched as her hardened expression shifted slightly, revealing that her determination had finally broken. “That’s it... God you look hot.”

Ryujin wanted her arrogant roommate to say more dirty things to her. She despised that this was happening, but she was too far in now as she furiously rubbed her drenched cunt. “You don’t know anything...”

“Don’t be ashamed. We’re friends here.”

“No, we’re not. Ugh. I fucking hate you...” She said through clenched teeth. The pleasure was ramping up significantly, and her eyes drifted down to Junho’s shiny member. It had deflated slightly, but was still quite engorged as it lay across his abs, surrounded with his splattered semen. “...and your stupid big cock,” she added, practically whimpering.

“I’m going to fuck you with this stupid big cock one day,” Junho stated boldly.

“Nnooghh... No you aren’t...” Ryujin couldn’t believe she was getting off to his completely inappropriate threats. She could feel a powerful orgasm brewing.

“Yes I will. You will be my personal cum slut, and you will join me in bed every single night so I can give your needy little pussy all the attention it’s been craving.”

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Ryujin yelped far louder than she intended as her climax overwhelmed her. All control over her body slipped right through her fingers as her thighs clamped tightly together and she trembled on the sheets. Soft moans escaped her lips as visions of Junho sexually dominating her flashed through her mind. The intensity of her orgasm completely blindsided her, and it seemed to last minutes. As the pleasure finally waned, she opened her eyes to see her roommate’s shit eating grin.

“Well that was ridiculously sexy. Now I need to take care of this again,” he said, looking down at his revitalized erection. “Wanna help me out?”

“This never happened!” Ryujin flipped onto her side, facing away from him, and pulled the blanket tightly into her. She shut her eyes and tried to block out the shame that was taking hold of her. She had just openly pleasured herself right next to the man she supposedly loathed more than anyone else. Worse still, she had done it while he described how he was going to fuck her and make her his slut, all behind her boyfriend’s back. The situation had gotten so completely out of control that it didn’t even feel real. Maybe it was a dream, she thought. She let the hopeful idea live in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic sounds of Junho beating his meat again behind her.

The next couple of days proved to be quite awkward for Ryujin, and she avoided her roommate as much as possible. Everytime she caught a glimpse of him, she was reminded of what had transpired. The dirty, degrading things he had said to her swirled around in her head intrusively. No matter what she did to take her mind off of things, she felt insatiably horny. Her boyfriend Tae was still the opposite, and seemingly couldn’t be bothered with anything sexual.

On the next “Junho night” she was surprised when the usually boisterous man made no acknowledgment of their last session together. He still jerked off as usual, but mostly kept to himself and went to sleep without incident. She couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit disappointed, but also couldn’t allow herself to acknowledge it openly.

She half expected he would try to push the boundary further given the things he had mentioned. The sex-starved primitive part of her brain was so ready for him to assert himself, and her pussy drooled at the thought that she was ripe for the taking if he decided to have her. She was within arm’s reach, and her inability to control her urges had already been exposed by him. There was absolutely no way she was going to stoop so low as to encourage a repeat of the last time they were in bed together though. It was better this way, she told herself, sneaking a peak at his sexual display. It was weird enough how normalized his masturbation in her proximity had become, let alone her openly joining him again.

Though she convinced herself it wasn’t for him, Ryujin started wearing more revealing outfits around Junho. She’d pretend not to notice, but she enjoyed the ego boost whenever she caught him eye-balling her. She even began “accidentally” leaving his blanket off of her torso while he jerked off, so he could have a clear view of her considerable cleavage and flat tummy. She opted to remove her bra after getting into bed, rationalizing that it was just for her comfort. It was thrilling to tease him; to know that he was probably undressing her with his eyes while he pleasured himself.

She kept up the act for the most part, scoffing at him disapprovingly when he whipped out his big cock. She’d pretend to scroll on her phone while watching him in her peripheral vision and lightly teasing her pussy under the safety of the blanket. Slowly but surely, she was becoming more comfortable with the ritual and the notion that it was just a bit of harmless fun. She deserved to blow off steam given how deprived she had been lately. As long as they didn’t push it any further, she rationalized that she wasn’t technically cheating.

Things felt different in the apartment. Tae, though normally oblivious, started to pick up on the strange vibes. His girlfriend seemed to be wearing less clothing, and he thought he saw Junho checking her out a few times. The two of them seemed to be getting along a lot better, which was a pleasant change, but also slightly concerning. He noticed some kind of electricity between his roommates, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. He would ask from time to time how the sleeping agreement was going, and she would always shrug it off as “No big deal”.

Tae’s anxiety was worsened by the fact that Ryujin seemed generally upset with him for not trying harder to find employment, and had basically stopped trying to initiate sex after a string of several disappointing trials. They would engage in a daily argument about him being lazy and complacent to be out of work. The disheveled boyfriend inspected himself in the mirror with a frown. It had now been several weeks since he was fired, and he had really let himself go. He’d never been as fit as his more athletic buddy, but used to at least maintain some sort of standard. He knew he had to start taking control of his life again soon, but didn’t know if he had the strength to do it, especially with the embarrassment surrounding the truth of his job loss. A truth he had not disclosed to his girlfriend, and the reason why his friend was enjoying her overnight company on a regular basis.

To prove a point, Ryujin managed to land a part-time job at a retail store. It wasn’t ideal, but would at least give her a bit of spending money before her classes started back up. The other plus was that she wasn’t stuck in the apartment all day watching her boyfriend do nothing. The responsible thing to do would have been to put the money away and save up for a new place, freeing herself from the absurd sleeping arrangement. Instead, she spent her measly income on new clothes. Her employee discount aided in her rationalizing these purchases. What started out as picking out sensible outfits for her new job quickly devolved into acquiring skimpy workout attire and sexy nightwear. She’d never had the money to spend frivolously and was enjoying the opportunity to treat herself a little.

“Don’t look over here.” Ryujin’s request escaped her lips despite an internal battle to keep the transparent, attention-seeking comment to herself. She carefully removed her day clothes to reveal a particularly risque nightie she had picked up that afternoon. It left little to the imagination, and her toned, but curvaceous figure was on full display.

“Damn, you’re asking for it you know...” Junho said, completely disregarding her plea for privacy as he fished for his manhood.

“I said DON’T look!” She reprimanded him, jumping under the covers for protection. “It’s for Tae. I just wanted to try it out and make sure it’s actually comfy. Don’t get any ideas!” Ryujin’s focus dropped to his crotch, noting that her display had made the man instantly hard.

Junho gently ran his fingers up and down the impressive length of his shaft while studying the petite woman. The blanket had already conveniently fallen from her chest, and his eyes followed the distinct curves of her succulent tits. The thin, almost transparent fabric seemed to hug them perfectly, and he yearned to see more. He decided though, that patience was key. His conservative approach had been working wonderfully, and he needed to play his current hand a little bit longer.

“Ugh. Now you’re probably thinking really inappropriate things about me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this...” Ryujin knew how obvious the act was, but her lust clouded her judgment.

“It’s pretty hot. I’m sure Tae will enjoy it,” he replied simply, still jerking off. He watched her cute nose flare ever so slightly at his unwillingness to take the bait. She can still enjoy the show, but it’s not FOR her until she submits more. He grinned arrogantly, eventually finishing himself off and unceremoniously cleaning up.

“You’re so obnoxious,” Ryujin muttered, turning away from him. The young girlfriend fell asleep more frustrated and unsatisfied than ever.

—

The following night, Junho returned home with an assortment of alcohol and insisted the group play drinking games together. They started with a simple card game, and within an hour each of them was feeling the effects of the potent liquid. The trio erupted in surprise and laughter as Tae flipped the final card, indicating that he would have to drink from the large glass they had been contributing to throughout the game. The intoxicated boyfriend winced as he tipped the foul mixture into his mouth, his roommates cheering him on. He managed to chug the entirety of it, gaining an applause from the group as he triumphantly slammed the glass to the table. His clumsy act caused Ryujin’s drink to fall over, splashing her clothes with the sugary substance.

She shrieked and jumped up from her chair while Tae stumbled to the kitchen for a towel. Without thinking it through, she hurriedly pulled off her top and shorts right there in the living room. Junho’s eyebrows shot up as he drank in the sight of his sexy roommate, suddenly in nothing but an exquisite set of lacy, black underwear. She patted the material all over, checking that it was dry.

“Woah-What’re you doing!?” Tae stammered as he realized his girlfriend had become half naked in front of their roommate.

“What? I- I didn’t want my new underwear to get stained!” The woman was clearly intoxicated and uninhibited. She shot Junho a glance, momentarily grasping the fact that she was exposed, and the hunger in his expression sent a tingling sensation from her nipples to her pussy.

“Well okay, but - shouldn’t you cover up now?” He suggested nervously.

“I dunno... It feels kind of nice! Don’t I look good?” She asked her boyfriend playfully. She was experiencing quite a thrill from showing off her body.

“Yeah, you look great, but...” Tae looked over at Junho, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I don’t mind.” The roommate stated, raising his hands in a half shrug. “If she feels comfortable, then go for it, right?”

“I guess so...” Tae slinked back into his chair, feeling defeated, and a little too drunk to form a cohesive argument.

“Thanks, babe!” Ryujin giggled and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. “So, what’s next?” She asked the group proudly, standing tall with her hands on her hips.

“Drink and drive?” Junho suggested. The group agreed, and filled up their drinks before taking a spot on the shared couch, the barely-clothed woman sitting between the two men, much to Tae’s dismay. The three buzzed roommates enjoyed a few rounds of competitive video game racing, while downing more drinks throughout.

The furniture was plenty large enough to accommodate all of them, yet Ryujin found herself sandwiched tightly between the much larger men. She didn’t complain though, secretly enjoying the warmth of Junho’s bare thigh against hers. His masculine scent filled her nostrils as she privately compared the two males on either side of her. One was tanned and muscled, the other pale and flabby. As more drinks filled her belly, she loosed up further, shoving her body into her roommate’s flirtatiously whenever the events of the game called for it. He even squeezed her smooth thighs a few times, which only increased her arousal.

Junho was rock hard for the entirety of the game, stealing several lengthy glances down Ryujin’s bra while the others were too immersed to notice. He had to have her, and his cock ached for release as he enjoyed the sensation of her luscious legs against his.

Eventually, the trio decided it was time to hit the sack. Ryujin, stumbling slightly, followed her tall roommate to his room, leaning on him for stability.

“Babe...” Tae whined, looking at her accusingly. “It’s an us night. You’re going the wrong way...” He had already witnessed the pair flirting pretty consistently throughout the evening, and seeing his girl’s hand wrapped around his friend’s large bicep filled him with jealousy.

“Oh! Are you sure?” She asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Yeah... You slept in there last night, remember?” He was right, and she shamefully let go of the muscled arm.

“My bad... I guess I’m a little more tipsy than I thought...” She couldn’t show it, but the young girlfriend was disappointed. She was intensely horny, and had been looking forward to her routine of playing with her pussy while pretending to be disinterested in Junho’s big cock. She knew Tae wouldn’t be up for anything sexual.

“Hang on. How about one more race?” Junho asked mischievously, staring his friend down. He’d hoped the boyfriend had become too drunk to notice the mistake, and now had to think on his feet. Tae simply shook his head, knowing where this was going. The confident man added, “If I win, I get a bonus Ryujin night tonight; but If I lose, we change the arrangement to only once per week instead of three, permanently.” His offer hung in the air for several seconds while the room contemplated.

“What’s the point even? It’s not like you get to - to...” Tae couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, but the implication was understood. He tried to shake away the painful thought of the man taking advantage of his girlfriend.

“I know dude. It’s not about that,” Junho said reassuringly.

“It’s just one last silly bet to end the night on. I want to feel like I won a prize, you know?”

“I dunno...” Tae muttered sheepishly, looking towards Ryujin to gauge her reaction. She just stood there silently, waiting to see how it would play out. His mind was a swirling mix of conflicting thoughts. He should just outright refuse, but if he won, then he would have a lot more of her to himself. He did feel he was the better gamer, and the alcohol gave him just enough confidence to weakly agree. “Fine... let’s do it.”

Ryujin’s heart lept in her chest as the events unfolded in front of her. She felt objectified; a bargaining chip to be turned over to the victor. It reminded her of the origin of the agreement that now felt like it happened so long ago. Things were different now, and instead of feeling disgusted, she found the whole ordeal to be an incredible turn on. She stood there in her skimpy underwear, waiting with great anticipation for the two males to decide who got to claim her for the night. She secretly hoped it would be her big dicked roommate.

The race was on, both men focusing intently on the screen and clutching their controllers tightly. It was anyone’s game, as they both traded the first place position several times while the finish line drew nearer.

“You got this babe!” Ryujin cheered for her boyfriend, her barely contained breasts jiggling in their lacy enclosure as she bounced with excitement. Tae pulled ahead, looking like he was set to win, when one of his girlfriend’s tits popped out, greeting the room in its full fleshy glory. “Oops!” She laughed.

Her exposed chest caught Tae’s eye, and he shot her a look of disgust. “Ryujin!? What the fuck?” The momentary distraction was enough for him to take the final turn a little too widely, and Junho took the lead. “No, no, no!” He smashed his buttons in a futile attempt to make up the distance, but the race was lost.

“Woo!” Ryujin exclaimed, accidentally letting her joy at the result slip off of her tongue. She met eyes with her fuming boyfriend and tucked her breast back into the bra. “Awww, babe! I’m sorry!”

“What the fuck was that!?” Tae screamed at her, slamming his controller onto the table.

“I didn’t mean to! I swear, it just got loose while I was cheering you on!”

“Well that’s not fair! Another race!” He demanded, his face beet red.

“Sorry bro, a deal’s a deal. Accidents happen,” Junho said calmly standing from his seat.

“But...” Tae looked at his almost nude girlfriend in disbelief, her small frame eclipsed by his large roommate who approached her. She simply shrugged.

“You did really well! Sorry I accidentally distracted you...” While she was telling the truth about the wardrobe malfunction, she put on an act to mirror his disappointment, pouting as she walked over and gave him a peck on the lips. “See you tomorrow, babe. Goodnight.” Tae slumped into the couch, his head spinning as he watched the beauty disappear behind Junho’s door.

Ryujin wasn’t sure what to expect as she sat on her side of the bed, resting her back against the cool, cushioned headboard. The first thing she noticed was that her sleeping mate had gotten into bed with his boxers still on, and was idly tapping at his phone. She lay there for several minutes wondering when he would inevitably start the stroking session, but he didn’t. She hated herself for letting it bother her, yet couldn’t help but ask about it.

“Wow, no self-service tonight, huh?”

Junho replied, “Sorry to disappoint. I guess your body all covered up and hidden isn’t doing it for me anymore.” He was determined to make her work for it, and focused his thoughts on anything other than the sexy body next to him to maintain self control.

“What is your imagination broken or something?” She teased, glancing at the flaccid bulge in his underwear. She felt an urge to do something to awaken it. It was almost as if his lack of an erection was a personal insult to her. After no response from him, she made a transparent excuse.

“Eh... Well it’s a pretty hot night anyway...” She pulled the rest of the blanket off of her, revealing her long, smooth legs and adjusting her bra to push up her swelling chest as much as possible.

They both feigned an interest in their phones, while secretly stealing glances at each other. Ryujin noticed his crotch had swelled a bit, and commented on his half-boner. “Hm. I guess something is doing it for you now...” She said slyly.

“Maybe a little,” he responded casually. The man knew she was bothered by his lack of interest, and it was a joy to watch her squirm.

Ryujin’s annoyance hit a tipping point, and she rose to her knees, facing him. “Oh, so all of a sudden I’m just not hot enough huh?” As soon as the words left her lips she felt the sting of embarrassment.

Junho looked at her smugly. “You’re pretty hot, it’s just I’ve seen it all before, ya know?”

Ryujin subconsciously tugged her bra down a little further. “I’m already showing so much! Don’t you like this little number? I can’t believe it’s all I’ve been wearing all night.”

“Mhmm...”

“I think you’re just trying to get me naked...” Ryujin added.

Junho said nothing, but stared at her chest intently. It was now a game of chicken, and Ryujin was fully invested in the challenge of making him hard by the mere sight of her.

She slowly pulled her lacy bra further and further down her chest, and as more of her soft, perky tits were revealed, his cock grew in size. Finally, as the material had stretched as far as it could go, she reached in and scooped her breasts out of their prison, and they stood proudly out in the open.

Quite pleased with herself, she looked at his fully enlarged bulge, which was straining against the fabric of his boxers. “I guess you couldn’t help yourself,” she said victoriously. “Aren’t you gonna play with it?”

“I’d really prefer if you did,” Junho replied. Her tits looked better than he could’ve imagined, but he had to hold back just a little longer if he was going to ensure access.

“Well... That’s against the rules,” she argued.

“So was rubbing your pussy,” he said.

“No, that was different...” She was losing steam.

“Uh huh... Why are you so horny for my cock, Ryujin?”

“I’m not...” She could hardly believe her own actions. Here she was, in nothing but a thong, trying to tease her roommate into jerking off in front of her. It was beyond ridiculous, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t have the strength to stop herself.

“You haven’t taken your eyes off of it. And your nipples are hard,” he argued. Fighting the compulsion to attack her alluring chest mouth-first.

Ryujin blushed and deflected, “Doesn’t it hurt? Constrained all tightly like that?”

“As a matter of fact, it is very uncomfortable. Now help me out.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teased.

“So would you,” Junho said as he reached out and gently took her hand in his. He slowly guided her to his crotch and rested her on his bulge. He lightly stroked himself using her fingers, and looked at her to gauge her reaction. She said nothing, and remained fixated on what he was doing. He then moved her fingers to his waistband and left them there.

“All you have to do is pull this down and it will be freed.”

“...I... Can’t-”

“Do it...”

Despite her better judgment, Ryujin tugged at his boxers and his thick, swollen cock sprang out, waving back and forth a few times before settling into its straight, rigid position. Junho took her hand again and wrapped her fingers around the shaft. It was radiating heat, and looked even bigger up close in her small hand. She unknowingly held her breath as she eased her fingers up and down the impressive length. It was so much larger than Tae’s, and she felt mesmerized by it. It was as if she was carefully examining some otherworldly object.

“Mmm... You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this...” Junho cooed, snapping her out of her daze and fully removing his underwear.

“Well don’t get used to it. This is a one time thing,” she muttered in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self control.

Ryujin had a feeling she would never live up to those words as she squeezed his hardness. She made herself more comfortable, laying on her side and propping herself up on her free elbow. Her face was just inches from his bare chest as she worked her hand along his meaty shaft.

“I’m just curious, that’s all...” She murmured distractedly, admiring the weight of him in her grip. She traced the tip of the head down to the base with her finger tips, and cupped her balls in her palm. They seemed so heavy and full, which made perfect sense to her given the sheer volume of semen he would always unleash.

Junho’s idle hands also began wandering, and he softly ran his fingers through her hair. While whispering words of encouragement to her, he slowly stroked her down the length of her back, grinning upon noticing goosebumps forming on her shoulders. He traced lines up and down her spine, barely making contact and causing her to shiver with delight. He could hardly believe it was actually happening. His best friend’s girl, whom he’d wanted to fuck since the moment he met her, was willingly caressing his cock. The fact that she had always been so standoffish and rude to him made the moment all the sweeter.

Ryujin was so consumed with studying his manhood that she barely noticed when Junho started touching her. It wasn’t until he made contact with her plump ass cheek that she paused.

“Hey... stop that,” she said weakly.

“Oh, be quiet,” he responded light-heartedly, reciprocating her unconvincing protest.

She began pumping his cock, allowing him to squeeze her ass, which was all the encouragement he needed to take it further. He rested his palm on her shoulder and pushed her down into the bed so that she was flat on her back beside him. He then shifted down to her level and placed his muscular arm on her abdomen, holding her in place as well as giving him access to her lower half.

“What are you doing!?” Ryujin cried out with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She grabbed his thick forearm with both hands to try and stop the inevitable, but he was already testing the wetness of her thong.

“Junho, stop,” Ryujin said urgently, trying to sound like she meant it.

“Make me,” he replied as he slid his fingers under the damp fabric and touched her dripping pussy for the first time.

Ryujin squirmed as he caressed her most sensitive area. It felt like her last line of defense was being bombarded; the private part of her, reserved for her boyfriend, under assault. The pleasure hit her immediately though, and after hopelessly struggling under his strength for a short while, she began to give in to it.

“Nnghh... Please!” She wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for anymore, whether it be to stop or continue.

“We both know you need this,” he said with authority as he dipped two fingers into her and started hooking them back and forth. His elbow dug into her chest as she struggled against him, his digits fully penetrating her. With his other hand, he grabbed her soft tit and squeezed. He switched between mauling the flesh of her breasts and pinching her stiff nipples, all while firmly stimulating her g spot.

Ryujin moaned openly as Junho continued to grope and finger her. His strong hands were doing things to her that she couldn’t possibly achieve on her own. She was completely overwhelmed. The loud squishing sound from her pussy almost seemed to sing of her body’s consent as he dug into it. She could scream for her boyfriend, but her brain wouldn’t allow it. The pleasure was too great, and her intense craving for it had gone on too long. There was nothing she could do but lay there and take it.

“Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a cunt this wet. You must be loving this,” Junho muttered.

He was right. She could feel her juices gushing like never before, as if her body instinctively knew how to prepare for an encounter with such a dominant, masculine partner. A movement in the corner of her eye reminded her of his monstrous cock, and without thinking she reached out to take it. She pumped it hard in her closed fist, mirroring the intensity he was unleashing on her sex. She was suddenly overcome with the desire to make him cum; to witness his incredible manhood explode by her own hand.

“Ugh, just like that baby,” Junho cooed, elated that she had warmed up enough to reciprocate. He was determined to orgasm along with her, and ride the high together. The sight of her naked form sprawled out in front of him was enough to do the trick. She was absolutely beautiful. Delicate and elegant, yet oozing raw sexuality, especially in her current state. She was built for this, and he already couldn’t wait to have more of her.

The duo were wrapped up in a dense cloud of sexual intensity, jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed while they vigorously worked to get each other off. So many tense nights had led up to this moment, and the barriers that had been keeping them tame were crashing down all around them. Junho leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, his rough jaw making contact with her delicate chin.

Ryujin opened her mouth immediately and accepted his passion, their tongues clashing near the peak of their lust. It felt even more wrong somehow to accept the intimate kiss, but it felt so incredibly good and fueled her desire for his masculine dominance to even greater heights. She allowed him to taste her completely, moaning into the strong kiss with unbridled pleasure.

“Oh my god... ngh fuck! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna - NGH - CUM!” Ryujin felt a powerful force rising in her, like an overinflated balloon that was about to burst. And then it did. Her jaw fell wide open, and her thighs squeezed inwards, trapping Junho’s hand like a vice. Sharp jolts of ecstasy pulsed from her depths, igniting every nerve in her body. Time seemed to stop as she was thrashed again and again. The thick fingers inside of her did not skip a beat, and each purposeful movement seemed to directly stroke the pleasure center of her brain.

Ryujin felt a wetness grace the back of her hand, and opened her eyes just in time to see Junho’s throbbing member erupting. Thick, sticky seed blasted into the air and coated every inch of her closed fist. As her climax shook her body, her unsteady grip on him caused quite the mess. His vigorous load was flung in every direction, splattering both of them and the sheets. As the potent pleasure boiling within them cooled to a simmer, they couldn’t help but share a tension-cutting laugh. There was cum everywhere.

“Holy fuck...” Junho murmured. “That was so damn hot.”

Ryujin felt like she was floating on a cloud, and closed her eyes to savor the moment. “Yeah...” She uttered the simple agreement with a long drawn out breath. She hadn’t felt such immense satisfaction in a long time, and allowed herself a peaceful moment to soak it in as the many drops of semen trickled down her skin. Her brand new underwear had gotten completely soiled, but she couldn’t care less in that blissful moment.

The pair managed to eventually clean themselves up and remove the soiled sheets. As Ryujin settled into her spot on the bed, the positive feelings that had dominated her consciousness were giving way to feelings of guilt and shame. She and Junho had officially gone too far, and she wrestled with the thought in silence before finally falling asleep.

Ryujin kept herself busy the next day, even opting to pick up an extra shift at work. The knowledge that she had cheated on her boyfriend weighed heavily on her mind, but she also felt a flash of excitement any time she recalled the event. The steamy encounter with her roommate made her already intense appetite even harder to ignore, and she had to fight the urge to duck into a dressing room to get herself off.

She even managed to mount Tae that night, desperate for cock, and perhaps eager to soothe her conscience by enjoying some intimate time that wasn’t “off limits”. The troubled young man was more eager than he had been in a while, fueled by his jealousy from the previous night. After riding him for a short time, Ryujin gasped as he took control and flipped her onto her back, fucking her with the anger he had felt after losing her to Junho. While he did manage to build a nice rhythm, he couldn’t last more than a minute, and she was left unsatisfied.

“That felt so good,” he said, breathing heavily and studying her reaction.

“Yeah...” She lied, noting how incredibly miniscule his load was inside the spent condom compared to the voluminous fountain that had splashed her the previous evening. Her boyfriend had always been enough for her before, but things were different now. She felt a pit in her stomach knowing that things would likely not go back to how they were between them.

“I’m sorry for getting so upset last night. I just... really, really didn’t want to lose that bet...” Tae muttered, his head hanging downwards.

“It’s okay, babe. Believe me, I know how it feels for Junho to get under your skin.”

“He’s such an ass sometimes. Did you - um - you wore that lingerie to bed with him?” He asked nervously.

“I... did...” Ryujin confessed slowly. “But I just got under the covers and went right to sleep. It’s not like I wore them for him or anything,” she added, knowing full well that the two-piece was in fact at the bottom of the laundry basket, speckled with their roommate’s dry cum. The comment seemed to comfort her boyfriend slightly.

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I can get over it. As long as he doesn’t get the wrong idea.” Tae still wasn’t crazy about his friend getting an eye-full of his girlfriend’s exposed body, but decided not to push the issue further. “I know that you’re just doing all of this to help us survive... And I know I need to step it up. I’ve been a real slob,” the boyfriend admitted.

“Thanks for owning up to it. I believe in you. You just gotta get back out there,” she encouraged.

“You’re right, and I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Though their relationship had deteriorated recently, Ryujin still had feelings for Tae. He had been her first serious partner and they had lost their virginities together. The struggles of late had done damage, but there was still something there. Despite her actions, she still wanted the best for him, and wrestled with the thought that it might be best to just come clean about how things between her and Junho had gotten out of hand. If only she could think straight. The thrill of discovering this new, sexual side of herself, and the twisted pleasure that came with it was overwhelming her sensibilities.

Ryujin dreamed vividly that night. She was in Junho’s bed, but the room looked different for some reason. He was there, stroking his huge dick as usual, and he suddenly reached out and ripped the blanket off of her. She was fully naked, with her fingers in her pussy, frozen like a deer in headlights. “I knew it!” He shouted, and scrambled on top of her. He slapped her creamy folds with his hard manhood and then firmly thrust into her. Ryujin was paralyzed and lay there helplessly while he had his way with her. It felt fucking incredible. She moaned loudly in pleasure, captivated by the animalistic, sex-crazed expression on his face. Then his face morphed into Tae’s.

“Babe? Babe? Ryujin!”

Her eyes snapped open and she found that she was in her own room. Her boyfriend was gently shaking her. “You were moaning in your sleep. I figured you were having a nightmare or something,” he said worriedly.

“Oh... Yeah... A nightmare,” she lied. She immediately noticed that her underwear were drenched. She’d experienced the first of many sexual dreams involving her roommate that night, and waited for Tae to fall asleep to quell the overwhelming urge between her legs.

—

The new routine had been established, and although she would earnestly try each and every time to keep to herself, Ryujin would inevitably end up with her hands wrapped around Junho’s hard cock while his fingers assaulted her cunt.

“Not tonight,” she’d say, turning her back to him as if to go straight to sleep like the faithful girlfriend she was supposed to be. She knew full well he wasn’t going to take “No” for an answer though, and secretly craved his attempts to convince her.

“Oh, playing games again tonight, are we?” He teased. “As if your little pussy isn’t soaking wet in there, waiting to be manhandled.”

She squirmed her thighs together, his words having an effect.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The swoosh of his boxers being removed could be heard.

“Come play with your new favorite toy a little.”

“You’ve got two hands. Use ‘em,” Ryujin teased back.

“If you insist,” he chuckled, scooting towards her and reaching under the blanket.

“No! You know what I meant!”

She squealed as his large hands roamed over her exposed skin. Ryujin always knew the battle was lost the minute he started touching her. Something about the way he manipulated her with his powerful fingers drove her crazy. Before she could get another word in, his toned arm was around her narrow waist, pulling her into him. Now wrapped in his strong embrace, the dainty woman was powerless to resist. She let out an involuntary moan as he firmly pulled her thong to the side and rubbed her slippery clit.

“Why do you always have to put up a fight?” He growled into her ear.

“Ngghh! Because you’re a stupid creep! I’m - Uhnn - not bad like you!” She could hardly get the words out as he finger fucked her, her lower half vibrating with the intensity of his actions. Ryujin squirmed against the large frame of her roommate, his hard cock at full attention and slapping against her quivering thigh.

“You’re a horny little slut, and you know it,” he muttered hoarsely, nibbling her ear. “Why else would your cunt be this fucking wet for me?”

Ryujin wanted to tell him that she despised him, but instead her mouth fell open in silence as she came all over Junho’s invasive fingers. After twitching in pleasure for an imperceptible length of time, she finally drew a breath and let out a girlish whimper of satisfaction. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly he could bring her to orgasm.

“My turn, slut.” He commanded, and watched as his best friend’s girlfriend obediently took his big cock in both hands and got to work.

“Stop calling me that. I’m only doing this so you’ll leave me alone and go to sleep.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm!”

“So it has nothing to do with your secret infatuation with me?” Junho loved to press her buttons while she serviced him.

“Pffft. You wish. This is purely transactional,” she shot back, matter-of-factly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sexy. Ahh... that’s nice. Can you get it wet for me though?”

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Where’s your lotion?”

“I’m fresh out.”

“Ugh. If it will make this go faster.” She leaned over and drooled a large strand of saliva to coat his shaft before pumping his length diligently with a renewed effort.

“Hooohh... Fuck yeah, just like that.” he encouraged. His roommate was using both hands in unison, fervently stimulating him with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

“Why are you always so damn hard?” She asked, genuinely curious about his libido which was foreign to her.

“Because I’m a fucking alpha,” he laughed as she scoffed at his cliché arrogance. “I don’t know... I’ve always had this massive sex drive. Kinda seems like yours isn’t too far off.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Ryujin argued.

“I think you’re wrong. Two peas in a pod, lady,” he joked as he playfully grabbed at her bra-clad tits.

She couldn’t hold back a brief smile as she flinched, protesting, “Hey, stop!” She squeezed his cock in retaliation, before spitting on it to reapply her lubrication.

“What about Tae? Something tells me he’s not... Keeping up with your needs?”

Ryujin could feel her cheeks blushing. “What? No. No, he’s - It’s fine.”

Junho raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Well that sounds... Fine,” he teased.

“Whatever. Okay, let’s see that big alpha load already. My arms are getting tired,” she said sarcastically, jerking his big dick enthusiastically.

“Anything for my hot little cumslut,” he muttered.

Before long, the roomate was grunting with delight as he spurted his fat load into the air, much of the sticky substance covering Ryujin’s slick fingers and slender forearms.

“God damn, baby... You’re getting really good at that...” He cooed.

“You’re disgusting...” She said, suppressing a grin as she messily wiped her slimy hands off onto his thigh. Without even fully cleaning up, she nestled into her spot on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

—

Junho was growing bolder, knowing the shift that was occurring within Ryujin after several nights of giving in to his advances. While cleaning up some dishes in the kitchen after dinner, he noticed her slip behind him to get something out of the cupboard. He glanced back and observed her stretching for a glass on the top shelf. She was already in her night wear: the usual flimsy camisole and skin-tight short shorts. Her toned midriff was exposed as she reached for the receptacle. Junho noted that Tae was focused on his video game with his back turned to them, and silently closed the gap between him and the alluring woman. He pressed into her back and gently held her against him with a hand on her hip.

“Let me get that for you,” he said casually, easily reaching over her and grabbing the glass.

“Hey!” Ryujin whispered harshly, caught off guard and suddenly trapped between the counter and the large frame behind her. “What the hell are you doing!?” She squirmed against him and could feel his hardness poking against the small of her back.

Junho ignored her question, and smelled her hair, firmly holding her still. “God you smell good. Are you excited to cum all over my fingers again tonight?” He murmured softly into her ear, one hand inching down towards her mound. His cock inflated rapidly as he imagined her writhing in pleasure on his bed again.

“Stop! Seriously! You’re gonna-”

“Make you too wet before you say goodnight to Tae?” He interrupted, teasing her verbally as well as with his fingers, which were now pressing against her clit and ever so slightly drawing circles.

“No! Ngh... Junho, please stop... He’s gonna see us...” She pleaded as quietly as she could. Even over her shorts, his firm touch was starting to feel good. She didn’t have the strength to escape his powerful hold and a sense of helplessness washed over her. Her legs started to weaken as her pussy responded to his aggression, growing juicier by the second. Junho’s free hand had traveled up her torso and was lightly grazing her nipples, which were stiff and sensitive.

She knew there was nothing she could do short of calling to her boyfriend for help, but she couldn’t do that. What if he discovered how much their brutish roommate’s groping was turning her on, she thought. Ryujin cursed her body for once again betraying her and giving into the man’s forceful assault. Instead of insisting that he stop, she was becoming jello in his arms, silently accepting that he was going to do what he wanted to her.

“I’m so fucking hard right now... Maybe I should just fuck you right here,” Junho threatened through clenched teeth.

As she lost the battle for control over her body, her mind began to slip as well. She imagined the muscular jerk tugging her shorts down, and thrusting his huge cock into her warm, welcoming cunt. Surely he wouldn’t go that far, she thought. He wouldn’t take the last bit of her innocence then and there in the kitchen and fuck her needy pussy right behind her boyfriend. The vision was beyond tantalizing, and her dripping sex ached for more.

Ryujin surrendered to his dominant touch, and just as she felt an orgasm building, Junho released his grip and shuffled back to the sink. His dismount was so jarring that she nearly groaned in frustration at the instantaneous loss of pleasure. She desperately needed that climax, and could think of nothing else.

“Asshole,” she muttered as she stomped past him, heading straight for his bedroom.

“I just got insanely tired... Goodnight, babe,” she announced to Tae, pausing in the doorway for a brief moment to shoot a stern, suggestive look at Junho. The roommate grinned at her mischievously and tucked his erection into his waistband before following her into the room.

“Night...” Tae answered nonchalantly, too engrossed in his game to notice the oddness of what had just occurred. Had he been more observant, he might have perceived his girlfriend’s earlier than usual departure, her flush red cheeks, or the fact that she’d left an unused glass on the kitchen counter.

Junho closed the door behind him to find that Ryujin was already naked from the waist down and had jumped into his bed. Her pussy was out in the open and glistening with her juices. It was the first time he had actually laid eyes on it, and he wasn’t surprised to find that it appeared pristine. His cock swelled with anticipation as he drank in the sight of her unprotected delicate pinkness.

“Are you gonna finish what you started you fucking perv?” She taunted him while lightly teasing herself.

She was still right on the brink of an orgasm, and her inhibitions had melted completely. Ryujin could’ve easily just finished the job herself, but she craved what she knew would be a far more potent explosion if Junho dug his strong fingers into her. She longed for him to hold her down and force it out of her. She was discovering that the loss of control when he dominated her was a major turn on.

Her expectations were subverted as he swiftly moved between her parted legs and dove face-first into her tender folds. She opened her mouth to oppose his daring action, but her voice got stuck in her throat as his strong tongue graced her sensitive cunt. Her hands reflexively shot out and grasped his hair, holding on for what she knew would be a wild ride. The handsome man worked his tongue expertly, stroking the full length of her pussy with firm, steady licks. She had to stop herself from moaning too loudly, remembering her boyfriend was just on the other side of the wall.

Junho kept her right on the edge, pausing every so often to catch his breath and plant kisses right on her swollen clit. His alluring roommate tasted better than he could’ve imagined. The sweet and tangy flavor was intoxicating and caused all of his blood to rush to his cock. He tested her carefully, paying attention to how her body reacted to his work. Stiffening his tongue, he prodded and teased her entrance, which felt incredibly tight. No doubt, it would feel amazing wrapped around his dick. He wasn’t sure he would be able to prevent himself from penetrating her any longer. The urge was ramping up with each passing second; his instincts becoming harder to ignore.

“Pleeease!” Ryujin whispered in desperation. She was right on the cusp of a big one, but her roommate wouldn’t let her have it. He had her firmly pinned down, legs spread wide as he carefully teased her gushing pussy. When she felt she was one lick away from cumming, he would shift his focus, kissing and gently biting a path away from her aching sex. He was clearly toying with her, and taking the opportunity to sample every inch of her exposed lower half.

Junho couldn’t help but grin as he feasted on the begging girlfriend. Her cute, wanting pleas for more were music to his ears. He took his time, lightly dragging his teeth along her flawless, taut skin whenever he needed her to cool down. “Mmmm... Tastes so good... You like how I tease your cheating little pussy, baby?”

Ryujin groaned in frustration as his hot breath tickled her throbbing clit. “Ugggh... I need to cum soooo badly...”

He prodded her once, flattening his tongue and quickly withdrawing it. “Like this?”

“Yesssss! Oh my god... Why are you doing this to me?” She wanted to scream at him, but knew it was too risky. She hoped the T.V. in the next room was loud enough to cover up her whimpers.

“Because you’re a naughty cheating girlfriend, and you need to be taught a lesson.”

“Ngggh!” She thrust her hips in an attempt to get the last bit of stimulation she needed, but he stopped her just in time, pressing her down into the bed more firmly.

“You resisted me, so now you have to wait until I think you deserve to cum.”

“Fuck, Junho...”

“Well? Do you deserve it?”

“Mhmm! Please!”

“I don’t know about that...” Junho flashed his teeth mischievously and bit the bony peak of her hip.

“Ahhh! Just give it to me! I Deserve it!”

“You’ll be a good cheating slut from now on?”

She hated him more than ever for forcing her to say such submissive things, but she was well beyond the point of having enough resistance left for mere words. “I’ll be good!”

“A good what?”

“A good - Ngh - cheating s-slut!” Ryujin couldn’t stay silent anymore. The long build up was about to hit the breaking point. “Ohhh... Oh fuuuck yesss... Oh my god... I’m about to-Ahh!” She gasped sharply as Junho abruptly stopped stimulating her.

“I’ll make you cum, slut, but I’m going to fuck you after,” he stated, still inches from her soaking pussy.

“Nooo. No, we can’t. Ugh! Pleeeease!” The frustrated woman bucked her hips and pulled at his hair, desperate for release. “Fucking pleeease make me cum,” she continued, her orgasm simmering just below the surface. She needed it more than anything, but had just enough sense left to stop him from taking her fully.

“Anything but that-Oh!”

He stoked the fire with another quick lash of his tongue, but it wasn’t enough to finish her off. Ryujin’s hands left his head and moved to her burning sex, but he deftly caught them with his own, pinning her arms down on either side of her.

“Beg me to fuck you...” He persisted.

“That’s too far! Please, anything else!”

Her mind was racing, searching for a way to convince the withholding jerk.

“I’ll suck your cock! Please! Make me cum and I’ll suck you off!” She blurted out the offer, which she hastily rationalized was a fair trade given the current predicament, though she wasn’t sure where the idea came from.

“Deal,” Junho agreed simply, dipping his face back down to resume his feast. He wasn’t hell-bent on rushing sex with her that night, and was elated to hear her depraved suggestion to service him with her hot little mouth. He released one of her wrists and drove two fingers into her cunt while tonguing her clit like a feral beast.

Immediately, Ryujin’s tight hole constricted and her back arched as her long awaited climax finally popped.

“Ohhhfffuuuuck!”

She cried out in ecstasy, her fingernails digging into Junho’s skull as she clenched him tightly between her thighs. The pleasure-filled girlfriend grinded her pussy against her roommate’s face for what felt like the lengthiest, most intense orgasm of her life, with no regard for the fact that a thin wall was all that separated her unfaithful act from her clueless boyfriend.

When she could finally muster the control to open her eyes, she was greeted by her roommate’s manly visage. His chiseled jaw was slick with her juices and his eyes glowed with a predatory flare that sent a shiver down her spine. She watched as he rose to his knees and peeled off his underwear, allowing his massive cock to spring into view. It dawned on her what she had agreed to moments prior, and she didn’t bother putting up a fight. She was about to have that fat piece of masculine meat in her mouth, and she was secretly thrilled about it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ryujin nearly leapt into the air like a startled cat upon hearing the sharp knocks on Junho’s bedroom door.

“Babe?” Tae asked from just outside.

She was frozen in indecision. Maybe he would just assume she was asleep and go away, she thought.

“I know you’re awake. I heard noises a minute ago.”

“Uh-Just a sec!” Ryujin scrambled off of the bed and looked around frantically for her shorts. Her heart was racing as she tried to brace herself for what would surely be a messy confrontation. He had heard her. It was all over. She had really fucked up this time. She tugged her shorts up and took a deep breath, noting that Junho had gotten under the covers and was in his usual sleeping position. She slowly opened the door, her face red-hot with shame, and met Tae’s suspicious gaze.

“You left your phone out here,” he muttered, presenting the device to her.

“Oh... Oops! T-thank you,” she stammered nervously.

“Are you okay?” He reached out and tested her forehead with his palm. “Oh my God. You’re burning up!”

“I am?” Ryujin couldn’t think straight in her panic. “I mean yeah... Now that you mention it-I don’t feel right. Maybe that’s why I was so tired...” She was suddenly hyper aware of the light sweat on her forehead and the slickness of Junho’s saliva between her thighs.

“Well it didn’t sound like you were sleeping...” Tae leaned over to get a peek into the dimly lit bedroom. His roommate appeared to be asleep.

“You just woke me up. Maybe I was talking in my sleep or something?” It was a poor excuse at best, but she crossed her fingers and silently prayed that he would let it go.

“That’s weird... Well if you’re sick you should really get some good rest in your own bed, don’t you think?” He asked, gently rubbing her arm.

“Yeah... I guess you’re right...”

She was more than a little disappointed, but given how fortunate she was to have not been caught, there was no sense in arguing the point. She followed her boyfriend back to their room, and fell asleep to the thought that she had somehow gotten herself into a situation where she now owed her arrogant roommate a blowjob.

Ryujin stirred the next morning to a rustling in her bed. She felt a weight on top of her and opened her heavy eyelids to find Junho’s massive cock staring back at her. She attempted to scoot up and away from him, only to discover that her torso and arms were pinned to the mattress beneath the heavy intruder.

“What the-You can’t be in here!” The young woman was trapped, her eyes darting around the space to confirm that this was indeed the room she shared with her boyfriend.

“I’ve been rock hard since you abandoned me last night. I couldn’t wait any longer,” Junho responded, clearly enjoying her helpless squirming.

“B-but Tae-”

“Shhh... He left to get you medicine, since you’re sooo sick...” He teased sarcastically, gently prodding her plump lips with his enlarged tip. “Time to pay your dues. You better make me cum before he gets back, or I’ll consider it a violation of the deal.”

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow night? This is too risky...” Ryujin tried to reason with the aggressor, but she could already feel herself becoming wet with anticipation. She knew he was going to take what he wanted from her, and couldn’t deny how much that turned her on. The warm, musky meat against her face was demanding her attention, and her mind flickered back to the potent orgasm its owner had brought her to the previous night. Maybe if she was proficient enough to satisfy him quickly, there would be enough time for him to work his magic on her again, she hoped. The pinned girlfriend’s tongue protruded from her lips, and made contact with her roommate’s cock head.

Junho couldn’t help but moan in relief as her wet tongue graced his needy manhood. Another invisible barrier was crumbling around them as his best friend’s girl willingly tasted his hard dick for the first time. She looked adorable, hyper-focused on exploring the ridged surface with little licks here and there. He had the urge to just jam himself into her mouth and fuck her face to completion, but held back in favor of the tortuous but enticing teasing she was putting him through.

“God damn, Ryujin...” He muttered in ecstasy.

She flashed her teeth briefly, flattered by his infatuation, and slowly parted her lips around his velvety skin. Without missing a beat, her roommate began easing his way into her welcoming mouth. As her wet warmth enveloped him inch by inch, her eyes followed the length of his chiseled torso upwards until she met his gaze. As their pupils locked, she felt his thick cock twitch against her tongue, and another deep moan escaped him. His expression of intense desire and hunger made her pussy ache. “Mmmm...” She cooed involuntarily; her mouth now completely full.

Junho began softly thrusting his hips back and forth, aiding Ryujin’s efforts as she repeatedly lifted her head to stimulate him. She had little leverage from her current position, but worked his sensitive organ with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She wanted to do a good job for him; to surprise him with how skilled she could be. He’d been responsible for giving her multiple mind-blowing climaxes, and it felt right to return the favor.

As if he could read her mind, he murmured, “Fuck yes... Ahh, you’re being such a good little cocksucker for me...”

She squirmed beneath him, squeezing her thighs together as a sting of desire accompanied his words. Is that what I am now, she thought, his little cocksucker? She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she knew that the whole situation was immensely hot, and that she wanted more.

Junho detected the lust and submission in her eyes, which encouraged him. “Mmm... Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be the sexy little slut you’re meant to be?”

Ryujin had never felt so degraded, and though she didn’t want him to stop, she couldn’t allow him to think she had fully given up all control.

“I’m not a slut, you ass. You’re making me do this,” she said defiantly before allowing him to stuff her mouth again.

“And you’re loving it,” he teased.

“Shut up,” she gargled through his warm meat. She lightly dug her nails into his calves, her forearms still secured in place under his weight.

“You want me to get off of your arms so you can play with yourself?” Junho grinned mischievously as he reached behind him and pulled the blanket off of her lower half. She clamped her thighs together in an effort to defend against him, but his strong fingers slipped into the crevice and found their way to her slick pussy.

Ryujin reflexively moaned as he felt his way around her delicate folds. As usual, her body was betraying her, undermining any attempts to deny that she was enjoying his advances. As Junho toyed with her, she began bucking her hips against him, craving more stimulation. He grazed her entrance again and again, never lingering long enough to let the pleasure build. She hated how much of an effect he had on her, her brow furrowed in frustration as his thick shaft slid in and out of her stretched mouth.

Suddenly, he lifted himself off of her and fell onto his back. “Let’s see you put that slutty little mouth to use,” he practically growled, his rigid saliva-covered cock pointing at the ceiling. “Get on your hands and knees.”

“Fuck you,” Ryujin mumbled, complying with his order anyway and positioning herself to continue the taboo blowjob. Her more conservative inner voice was screaming at her for letting this outsider boss her around in the private bed she shared with her boyfriend.

“Ass up, so I can play with you,” he commanded, firmly gripping her thigh and pulling her backside toward him. She moaned again, revealing that she was enjoying his manhandling. She felt like a weightless doll as he effortlessly shifted her body around to his liking. Junho couldn’t help but continue to push her boundaries. He smacked her exposed ass cheek with a loud crack that echoed throughout the room.

“OW! WHAT TH-” Ryujin’s cry of protest was sharply interrupted as his large hand grabbed the back of her head and guided her down onto his thick cock. She gagged and dug her nails into his thigh as he jabbed the back of her throat. One hand wrapped itself in her hair and pulled her back enough to allow her to breathe, while the other began rubbing up and down the length of her creamy pussy. “You fuckin-Ggghhh!”

Junho chewed his bottom lip as he aggressively forced the young girlfriend back onto his dick. He started jerking off his considerable length with her mouth, all while finger fucking her tight pussy and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb.

With each push downwards, Ryujin grew more accustomed to his girth, and her gags gave way to muffled, throaty moans. He was completely having his way with her, and there was little she could do to stop it-not that she wanted to. At first his abrupt assault was appalling, but she quickly warmed up to it. Her juices ran freely down her thighs as he pumped two of his broad fingers in and out of her squelching entrance. Her throat relaxed, and little by little more of his shaft passed through her lips. If she hadn’t felt like a slut before, she was beginning to feel like one now. She had never felt so utterly objectified and depraved. Her ass still stung from his harsh slap, but she found herself craving another. Her emotions and desires were a confusing, chaotic soup, but before she could dwell on them, a powerful orgasm erupted within her.

In a move that subverted even her own expectations, she forcefully pushed herself up, the slimy cock flopping out of her mouth, and screamed, “Oh my God, Junhonn! I’m fucking cumming so hard! Spank me again!” A second later, a sharp jolt of tantalizing pain ran through her as he indulged, and then another. “OH! FUCK YEAHHH!” She exclaimed as she rode the mind-bending climax, tightly gripping his throbbing cock with both hands. He continued to punish her plump backside and ravage her quivering pussy while she shrieked wildly in ecstasy.

The scene was amongst the hottest things Junho had ever witnessed, and he felt that his throbbing cock was on the brink of exploding. He quickly grabbed Ryujin’s hips, twisting her onto her back and straddled her writhing body while he stroked his manhood to completion. With his free hand, he ripped her flimsy top down from her chest, tearing it and exposing her breasts. She yelped in surprise, but was too lost in pleasure to care. With a drawn out grunt from the towering man, a viscous, milky rope shot out and splashed against her cheek. Another landed soundly along the bridge of her nose, and the third across her agape lips, mostly falling into her mouth and coating her tongue. The several remaining blasts of his dense semen barely waned in strength, splattering all over her tits, and painting her torso and tattered shirt. By the time the last few dribbles trickled down her tummy, Ryujin was glazed to the point of being almost unrecognizable.

For several minutes the pair remained frozen in place, breathing heavily and basking in the aftermath of what had just occurred. The fact that she had just willingly sucked her roommate’s big cock and screamed like a slut for him while he covered her in his cum barely seemed to matter at that moment. As her chest rose and fell, she could feel the copious semen dripping down her skin and soaking into the bedding.

Junho was the first to speak, “You ever been plastered like that?”

“Never,” she answered weakly.

“It’s a good look for you,” he added, scooting himself off of her and reaching for his phone. He aimed the camera at her and joked, “Say I’m Junho’s little cum slut.”

“Fuck off!” She couldn’t help but giggle a bit, shielding her face with her open palm. He held the screen out to her, and her jaw dropped as she processed the obscene image on display. It took a full second for Ryujin to recognize the naked woman lewdly sprawled out and coated in jizz in the picture. Even though she had just watched him take the photo, she couldn’t believe the unbelievably slutty looking figure was her. It was also hard to miss how incredibly satisfied her expression appeared. Despite having just cheated on her boyfriend again, with this cocky, manhandling brute no less, Ryujin felt more carefree than she had in a long while. That is, until the sound of the front door opening could be heard through the wall.

“Shit!” She whispered through clenched teeth. “Not again!” Her eyes flickered back and forth indecisively as the door closed loudly and footsteps drew near. Junho sprung into action, scooping her up and repositioning her onto the bed, before pulling the thick comforter over both of them and laying as flat as he could next to her. Ryujin plucked at the covers hurriedly, trying to conceal any shapes, and ducked her face under the blanket as well.

“You awake babe?” Tae asked softly as he entered the dimly lit bedroom.

“Barely... Ugh... Can you please let me sleep a little more?” Ryujin tried her very best to sound natural, but her heart was pounding so hard it was deafening.

“Of course. I got some stuff you should take though-”

“No! I mean... Please leave me be for now. I appreciate you though! I’ll be up soon okay?” She stammered dismissively. If her boyfriend saw her now, there would be no way to explain the shiny globs of cum that still covered her. There was also the issue of getting Junho out of her bedroom without him noticing. She had to think fast.

“Alright. Well I’ll check on you soon,” Tae said.

“Oh, um... Babe? Could you please check my car for my phone charger?” She improvised.

“You can just use mine-”

“No, I need mine please,” she insisted, not sure how to justify it.

“Uh, okay then,” the boyfriend chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryujin held her breath and waited for the apartment to clear. The second the front door closed, she threw the bedding off of her and scrambled towards the foot of the bed. She felt something wrap tightly around her ankle, and she was jerked back towards her roommate, who wrapped his large arms around her.

“Dude!” She yelled as he groped her luscious, sticky tits.

“Round two?” He asked, grinning mischievously and dropping a hand down to her unprotected mound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Get the fuck out of my room!” She demanded as she tried to wriggle free from his hold. His fingers were already inside of her again, rummaging around in her still sopping wet pussy. “Seriously! Nghhh-Please!”

“I’ll go, but I want to hear you admit how much you loved being my naughty little cum canvas,” he grumbled into her ear while stroking her clit and pinching her nipple.

“Hnnngh... Please... He’s gonna be back any minute-”

“So say it. I don’t care if he sees us.”

“You’re such a-ffffuck-ing ass-ohhh...” Ryujin knew she had no choice. “Fine... I Ioved it...” She had to get away from him before her brain decided the growing climax would be worth the risk.

“Loved what?”

“Ugh... Being your-Being... covered in all your... cum...” She admitted it shamefully.

“It was my pleasure.” Junho immediately released her and strode out of the room, fully naked and as smug as ever. Ryujin followed soon after, ducking into the bathroom and jumping into the shower. Before even attempting to scrub the semen off of her skin, her hands were between her legs. Her sex ached for more attention from her roommate, and she lost count of how many times she got herself off under the scalding water, the potent flavor of his salty seed still on her tongue.

******

Ryujin was sipping a hot, bitter coffee in the back room of a small clothing store, mentally preparing to face another tedious shift of her part-time gig. It was an early weekday morning, and she would likely be responsible for the more boring parts of the job given that there were seldom any customers at this time of day. She could faintly hear her bubbly manager, Amber, chatting away with someone out on the floor, which was surprising given that they had just opened the shop. After tossing the styrofoam cup into the trash can, Ryujin yawned and opened the door to see what all the fuss was about.

Amber, from the looks of it, was in her natural habitat, flirting with some guy who had no doubt accidentally wandered into her trap. The young woman was very well put together, always dawning flawless makeup, in contrast to Ryujin, who was more likely to let her natural beauty shine through. Amber couldn’t help herself around attractive men, and had a reputation for having flings at the drop of a dime. Ryujin watched her touch the tall man’s bicep as she giggled about whatever it was they were discussing. As she drew nearer, she felt as though she recognized that bicep. Then the man turned to her, and to her surprise, it was Junho.

“Hey, Ryujin!” He greeted her cheerfully.

It took her a minute to process his sudden presence in her usually private world of the store. “H-Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I was going to try out this new gym that opened down the street, and then I remembered you mentioned that this was the place you worked at,” he explained, crossing his arms and smiling widely.

Amber appeared a little dismayed that the attention had suddenly shifted away from her. “You guys know each other?”

“Yeah! We live together!” Junho answered.

“Wha-Oh, so this is your boyfriend?” She inquired, clearly disappointed to learn that her chances with him had suddenly plummeted.

“No... he’s just our roommate.” Ryujin replied quickly, starting to worry that Junho would reveal something about the complicated nature of their relationship. It was only two days ago that she had his big cock down her throat before he shot his cum all over her.

“Oh good, so you’re single!” Amber flashed her perfect teeth and planted her palm on his broad chest. She did not know the meaning of subtle.

“That’s right,” he chuckled, realizing an opportunity was developing before his eyes. “Can’t tie this guy down,” Junho said jokingly, flexing his muscles and getting an easy laugh out of his new fan.

“Well you can tie me down...” Amber commented seductively. “Give me your number, hot stuff.”

Ryujin rolled her eyes and turned to leave the sickening interaction.

“See you at home, Ryujin!” Junho called out to her.

“Whatever,” she replied under her breath, grabbing her clipboard off of the counter to start her daily tasks. Ryujin tried to focus on her job, but couldn’t ignore the negative emotions that were rising to the surface. The image of her slutty manager’s hands all over her roommate plagued her mind. First of all, he and I are not dating... I have a boyfriend... They can fuck like rabbits for all I care... The thought did not sit well with her. Ryujin must have muttered the phrase “Who cares” to herself a thousand times throughout the day in an attempt to distance herself from the feelings.

As she readied herself to end the shift, Ryujin noticed Amber smiling ear to ear while she tapped away at her phone. “Oh my God, Ryujin! How come you never told me about this guy? He’s so fucking hot. And guess what? We’re going out tonight!”

Ryujin’s heart sank to her stomach. She’d been secretly hoping that Junho would never actually entertain the idea of spending time with this woman, but apparently she was wrong. They were already set to meet up that night, and knowing them, would almost certainly end up hooking up. She wondered what that would mean for her plans, a night she was meant to spend in his bed. Ryujin tried her best to act naturally, but couldn’t hold back her opposition. “Oh really? After just meeting him?”

“Well, yeah! He seemed super into me, don’t you think?”

“I guess... He’s kind of a jerk though. You might not want to waste your time,” Ryujin explained, secretly ashamed that she was meddling in their plans.

“He seemed nice enough to me,” Amber said dismissively. She wasn’t about to let her coworker rain on her parade. “And that body... Mmm! I bet he has a big dick too. I’m pretty sure I saw some serious bulge going on down there.”

“I dunno. Small dick energy if you ask me,” Ryujin muttered.

“Well I guess I’ll find out soon!” Amber winked. “What do you think I should wear?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Ryujin gathered her things and strolled out of the store in a hurry, her jealousy hitting a tipping point.

******

That night as she and Tae ate dinner, Ryujin found it nearly impossible to focus on the conversation with her boyfriend. She kept eyeing the front door, hoping that Junho would show up alone, having canceled his date. She hated herself for letting the scenario affect her so much. The complicated feelings were a harsh reminder that she had gone way too far with her roommate, and that she needed some normalcy to return to her recently chaotic life.

After cleaning up, the couple cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. It wasn’t long before the door to the apartment swung open, and Junho noisily entered, followed closely by a giggling Amber. Ryujin audibly groaned, but luckily the sounds of the film covered up her show of disappointment. As the newcomers shuffled towards the bedroom, Ryujin’s gaze met her roommate’s and the eye contact lingered for an extra beat. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to convey, and her conflicted feelings resulted in a mostly blank expression. He simply grinned, and continued leading his date to his room. Amber waved and said hello to the two of them, winking at Ryujin before disappearing into the private space.

“Wow, just like old times, eh?” Tae said to his girlfriend, clearly elated for the disruption in the night’s sleeping arrangement. “He hasn’t brought a girl home in a while. Guess that means we can stay together tonight.”

“Yeah...” Ryujin was distracted, knowing what was about to happen on the other side of the wall.

“Babe?” Tae lightly shook her.

“Yeah! It’s good!” She agreed simply, snapping out of it. Nothing positive would come out of eavesdropping, she decided. This is good, she told herself. This is normal. Normal is good. She pressed herself into her boyfriend’s hold and returned her attention to the movie, determined to accept the circumstances and enjoy a regular night of being a faithful girlfriend like she was supposed to. Ryujin’s new resolve soothed her conscience, and she felt at peace for the next few minutes.

As the on screen entertainment transitioned into a more silent scene, noises could be heard coming from Junho’s room. “Oh! Oh! Yes! Fuuuck Yes!” Amber suddenly cried out. Ryujin and Tae pretended not to hear it, hoping the movie sounds would pick back up again soon. “Oh my God! Ah! Yeah! Fuck!” It was hard to ignore the woman’s yelps of pleasure, and Ryujin found her mind wandering. It sounded like Junho was fucking her hard, and she could picture his toned body slamming into her. She wondered what position they were in. Is it missionary, or is he taking her from behind? The girlfriend secretly hoped there was no passion, just raw sex. The jealous feelings returned with a vengeance as she was forced to listen to her ditsy manager get railed by her roommate’s big dick. She was getting to experience it in a way Ryujin hadn’t, but that was by her own choice, she reminded herself. She wasn’t supposed to wonder what his massive cock would feel like inside of her. Despite all of these mixed emotions, the thought of it in action in the next room was turning her on.

“Hoy fucking shiiiiiit!” One last exclamation could be heard before the speakers finally covered up the debauchery. Ryujin realized that she could channel her arousal back into the right direction, and placed her hand on her boyfriend’s crotch. She kissed his neck and lightly rubbed him in an attempt to bring his member to life.

“I need you to fuck me,” she whispered into Tae’s ear, smiling as she felt his cock hardening. He turned his head and kissed her, feebly grabbing at her tit.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, grinning at his ravenous girlfriend. “Is it...” His eyes darted in the direction of Junho’s room. “I thought you hated those... sounds.”

“I do, but I just-ugh. Just shut up and fuck me okay?” Ryujin started hastily unzipping his shorts.

“Right here? Babe we-” Tae’s hesitation shattered as his eager girlfriend fished his erection out and took its entire length into her warm mouth. His mouth hung agape in shock as she slid him in and out of her, twisting the saliva-coated base of his cock in her fist. The couple rarely dabbled in oral sex, and here she was enthusiastically enveloping his entire dick. “Ohhh, that feels so good babe...”

Ryujin knew he had a habit of finishing quickly, so her time was limited. She slowed her movements gradually, making eye contact, and released his spongy head with a loud pop. Without a word, the horny young woman took her boyfriend’s hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom. Amber could be heard moaning again as they exited the living room. Ryujin pushed Tae onto his back, removed her shorts, and climbed on top of him. She slid her thong to the side, and just before impaling herself, he protested, “Wait! Condom!”

“Babe, it’s okay, just pull out,” she pleaded, the heat of the moment slipping through her fingers.

“No, it won’t feel safe. Sorry, just a sec.” Tae slid out from under her and grabbed a packet from his drawer. He fumbled with it for a moment, and had to jerk himself off a bit to get fully hard again.

Ryujin waited patiently, but knew the likelihood of him actually satisfying her was slim to none. She could still faintly hear her manager squealing with delight across the apartment, and wondered if she had already cum for Junho. It was probably a matter of how many times, rather than if it had happened, she thought. “Tae, please get over here and give it to me,” she requested again.

“Okay, ready!” He took his place on his back again, and Ryujin climbed on top of him, finally sinking a hard cock into her depths. It felt great, and they both moaned at the joint stimulation. She put her hands on his chest and began gyrating her hips, finding the rhythm she needed to start building the pleasure. As she rode him, her mind kept traveling to the other bedroom, and she couldn’t prevent the intrusive thought of how different it must feel to be stuffed full of her roommate’s much larger tool. The thought of that monstrosity stretching her open was too wickedly alluring to ignore at the moment, and she allowed the fantasy of being with Junho instead to consume her attention.

He would probably have his big, strong hands all over me right now while I bounced on his fat cock. Hell, he’d probably throw me off of him so that he could have his way with me first. The daydream was fueling Ryujin’s arousal to new heights, and she was bucking into her boyfriend harder and harder.

Tae stared at his sexy girlfriend in awe - her perfectly toned tummy and full, perky tits dancing above him - he could hardly believe she was his. Her sultry expression was one of pure lust. She looked so cute and determined to get off with him. It was all too much, and he felt his climax already rearing its head. “So good... Oh...” He began tensing up.

Ryujin knew the telltale signs of her boyfriend’s completion, and quickly stopped grinding him. “Not yet babe!” She lifted herself off of him, but it was too late, and she watched in disappointment as his dick twitched and spewed a few globs of semen into the condom.

“Fuuuck... I’m sorry...” He muttered shamefully.

“It’s okay... It’s okay... Just... Can you lick me?” Ryujin fell onto her back and spread her legs, her fingers teasing her clit. There was no way she was giving up this orgasm.

“Sure!” Tae was relieved that he could still help his girlfriend get to the finish line, and crawled to her soaking pussy for a taste. He clumsily ran his tongue around the area, and jabbed at her entrance a few times. “Mmm is that good?”

“It’s... Fine. Yeah, just keep licking right there... Mhmm...” She closed her eyes and focused on stimulating her clit. His tongue was better than nothing, but it was night and day when compared to what Junho had done to her. God... The way he held me down and ate me like I was his last meal... Groping me and making me squirm while forcing me to admit that I was his cheating slut...

“Ngh! Ohhhhh...” Ryujin moaned while picturing her roommate dominating her. She rubbed herself with fervor and ground her sex into Tae’s face. She was almost there. “Beg me to fuck you.” Junho’s words rang in her mind. “Please fuck me,” she whimpered under her breath. A scalding wave of pleasure washed over her as she orgasmed, her jaw dropping and back arching. She pressed firmly onto her clit, tightly trapping her fingers and her boyfriend between her quivering thighs. She drew breath slowly and shakily as the endorphins ran their course, eventually subsiding and leaving her limp and sweaty.

“Holy shit, babe... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cum that hard,” Tae said admiringly, with a dash of pride at thinking he was solely responsible.

“Yeah... Sometimes...” She cooed, still lost in the aftermath.

“Well, goodnight.” He kissed her lips.

“Goodnight...” Ryujin drifted to sleep effortlessly, even though the sounds of her roommate and coworker still going at it could be heard in the distance.

******

Ryujin woke the next morning before the sunlight had even pierced her bedroom window. With an anxious pit in her stomach, she checked her work schedule and was reminded that she was scheduled to open the store with Amber again that morning. She contemplated calling out sick, dreading the awkward interaction that would surely occur upon her arrival, but decided to be brave and face the day. She quietly slipped out of her room, carefully listening for any indication that the woman was still in her apartment. All was silent, so she hopped into the shower and hurriedly readied herself to leave.

She tip-toed through the front door, relieved that no one else had seemed to have stirred yet, and left for work. Ryujin spent her short commute mentally rehearsing what she might say to her manager, or how to avoid her. Undoubtedly she would want to gush about her experience with Junho, which Ryujin was not ready to hear. She had gotten enough of an earful about it already. Despite arriving quite a bit early, she was surprised to see Amber’s car was already in the parking lot.

“Hey, Amber,” she said, reluctantly greeting the woman. Might as well try to play nice, she figured.

“Hey...” Amber replied back, with no enthusiasm and a hint of melancholy.

Ryujin raised an eyebrow. This was not at all how she expected this interaction to go. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...” Amber was avoiding eye contact and fiddling with a tablet.

“Not gonna lie... I kind of expected you to be in a better mood this morning,” Ryujin stated, now filled with curiosity.

“Heh...”

“You sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Ugh... No big deal. You were right though, he’s kind of a jerk.” Amber said, finally looking up from her arbitrary task.

“Oh.” Ryujin wasn’t sure what to say next. What could Junho have possibly done for her to have this reaction, especially after a night of what sounded like amazing sex. “It sounded like... I mean, weren’t you guys...”

“He’s a great fuck if that’s what you’re getting at. Like, crazy good...”

“Then what happened? Just his general attitude got to you, or?”

“No... I can deal with that...” Amber muttered, avoiding eye contact again.

“Well?” Ryujin couldn’t let it go. The mystery was too captivating at that point.

Amber turned bright red and sighed. “Fine. He... Don’t tell anyone, but... He said your name. Right in the middle of what I thought was the best sex of all time, he called me Ryujin.”

“Oh... I’m-Sorry...” Ryujin placed her hand on her coworker’s shoulder awkwardly, unsure of how to react outwardly, but well aware that she couldn’t allow her true emotions to escape her just yet. She was equally shocked and elated to hear of her roommate’s mistake.

“It’s fine. It was just a stupid hook up. I’ll get over it,” Amber insisted in a show of maturity.

“That sucks though. I’m sorry that happened.” Ryujin tried to reassure her.

“Thanks... That guy is obviously into you, Ryujin. I was picking up on some vibes when he was here yesterday too, but I guess I didn’t want to believe in them.”

“No... I’m sure it was just a mindless slip of the tongue,” she said, not believing her own words. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, I don’t wanna tell you how to live your life, girl, but for your sake I hope your man fucks half as good as that stud.”

The women did not discuss the subject any further, and began independently getting their daily tasks done. About an hour later, Ryujin was organizing a shelf when she heard unintelligible voices conversing, followed by Amber loudly announcing, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Just drop it, okay? No harm done.” She peered around the corner and saw her manager, blushing and walking towards her. Junho was behind her, looking a little less cool and collected than usual. “It’s just embarrassing,” Amber whispered as she passed her and headed for the exit. “Now’s a good time to take my lunch break.”

Ryujin approached the tall man with a spring in her step, more than a little excited to see him after hearing what had happened. “Can’t get enough of her, eh?”

Junho chuckled strangely, “Just wanted to say hi I guess.” He wasn’t sure if the women had discussed the fumble, and preferred his roommate knew nothing about it.

Is he being awkward? Ryujin wondered, suppressing a smile at his rare show of vulnerability. She was looking forward to fishing the information out of him. “Looks like she didn’t wanna talk. What could that be about?”

He shrugged. “Dunno...”

“Hm, guess she wasn’t impressed,” she teased, glancing down at his package. She decided it was more fun that he didn’t know that Amber had spilled the beans to her already.

“I think you know that that’s basically impossible,” he defended himself, straightening his posture.

“How would I know that?” Ryujin asked, subconsciously taking a step towards him.

“If you don’t by now, you will in due time,” he replied, closing the distance further.

“Well if you keep bringing random girls home, there won’t be a lot of time for that, will there?” She knew what her comment was suggesting, and worried that it might have been too forward.

“True.” He said simply.

Ryujin’s heart rate quickened as she took in his scent and felt his eyes scanning her body. She considered the space around her, quickly observing the emptiness of the store, and the security camera that they were in partial view of. “So what can I help you with today? You mentioned you were looking to try on some new pants?” She aimlessly picked up a pair of jeans that were conveniently resting on the shelf beside them, and offered them to him.

“You think these will be a good fit?” He asked, seamlessly slipping into the role of the unfamiliar customer.

“Yeah! Let me show you to the dressing rooms,” she announced. As soon as the words left her lips, she knew what was about to happen. Her eyes darted around again to confirm. There was no one in sight, and she knew for a fact that there weren’t any cameras in the dressing room area, including the common space where the employees would often spend time watching over the rooms and organizing the abandoned garments. She led Junho across the room and into the private alcove. “Here we are, sir,” she said in her professional customer service voice, holding the door open for him and feeling a tingle of excitement as his hard body brushed past her.

“I think I’m gonna need some help, miss,” he eyed her knowingly.

“Oh? What else can I do for you?” Ryujin’s pulse quickened in anticipation.

“I’m just a little sore from the gym, and was hoping you could help me out of these joggers.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that sort of thing is allowed here-Ah!” She was interrupted as Junho’s hand grabbed her slender waist and pulled her into the room. He aggressively pushed the door closed and his large frame pinned her against the wall of the tiny room. Her body was trapped between the cool partition and his warm chest. “I could get into a lot of troub-” Ryujin was once again interrupted, his lips mashing into hers, and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

“Mmmm...” She moaned into the kiss as her defenses vanished, and she offered her tongue to him. His strong hands slowly ran down her back and to her ass, which he then squeezed and used to lift her off of the ground. Still pinned against the wall, she was now at his height, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her firmly and passionately, and she mirrored his intensity. They were basically devouring each other in the cramped space, as if they had both been starved for affection. Ryujin could feel his hardness swelling rapidly against her, like it was threatening to rip through their clothing and penetrate her. She squeezed him into her more tightly, enhancing the friction between their wanting genitals.

Ryujin was the first to break the kiss, panting heavily, and dropped her leg to the ground, which caused Junho to let her down. She could feel her pussy was already soaking wet from the encounter. She found herself wishing to please him in that moment; to prove that she knew how to satisfy him. The young girlfriend dropped to her knees and started to tug at her hung roommate’s waistband until his massive erection sprung out before her eyes. She took his rock hard cock in her soft hand and gave the tip a small peck.

“God, you look like such a hot little slut with my big dick on your face,” Junho admired, resting his meaty appendage along the bridge of her nose, and gliding his smooth shaft ever so slightly along her skin. He cupped her jaw in his palm. “Did you miss me last night?”

“Not as much as you missed me,” she replied, sticking out her tongue and licking up the length of his cock. Junho chuckled and allowed her to take control as she flicked the underside of his head with her tongue and pushed her pursed lips against it. Ryujin slowly allowed him inside, taking in his fat piece of meat one centimeter at a time. At about four inches or so, he hit the back of her throat, and she held him there while her tongue snaked back and forth. She used her hand to spread her saliva down the rest of his length, lightly jerking the base while she bobbed her head on the third that she could fit.

Junho inhaled through his teeth and groaned in pleasure as his roommate serviced him. He took a moment to appreciate the wild turn of events that had gotten him into Ryujin’s lovely mouth that morning. He hadn’t been sure what would come of confronting the women after what had transpired the night before, but he’d felt a strong inclination to show up and figure it out. This outcome was about as well as it could have possibly gone for him, and he allowed himself a minute to get lost in her bright, determined eyes. “Whoofff... You’re getting good at this, baby.” He battled the compulsion to increase the intensity and start fucking her face again, deciding to let her continue proving herself while he relaxed this time around.

Ryujin pulled him out of her mouth with a slurp, and jerked him off with both hands, smiling with her tongue out. “You think?” In no mood to pretend she wasn’t enjoying herself, she genuinely wanted to hear more praise from him. She knew she wasn’t particularly experienced sucking cock, especially when compared with her slutty manager, but secretly hoped she possessed an innate talent that would impress Junho. She had more or less let him have his way during their previous encounter, but she was now in the driver’s seat, and didn’t want to disappoint.

“Definitely... You’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up,” he encouraged.

The cheating girlfriend slid the throbbing dick back into her mouth, pleased to hear she was succeeding. She did feel a sense of urgency, remembering where she was, and that Amber could come back at any time. More risky still, a customer might quietly drop in, and they’d probably hear the obscene squelching sounds coming from the small dressing room as she began pumping Junho’s cock with increased enthusiasm.

“Ahh... Fuck yeah... That’s my good little cocksucker... Is it making you all wet to be on your knees like this in public?” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Mhmmm,” she answered with a slight nod. She couldn’t believe how turned on the whole thing was making her. If she’d been told a month ago that she’d be blowing Junho at some random clothing store, she would consider it impossible. The risk of getting caught was another spicy factor that only made the interaction even hotter. Ryujin caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror beside them, noticing her watery eyes and the thick rope of saliva dangling from her chin while her lips stretched to accept the thick manhood. She truly felt like his little cocksucker, and the aching need in her pussy insisted that it was the way to be.

“Fuck, Ryujin... I’m getting close,” Junho mumbled.

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” Ryujin gagged on her roommate’s big dick as it jabbed the back of her throat repeatedly. She realized she would have to swallow his entire load, as she was in no position to be glazed in cum at the moment. Her shift had barely started, and she would have to work the next several hours in whatever state he left her in. Ryujin began mentally preparing herself to handle what would undoubtedly be a massive volume of semen.

“Oh fuck... Just like that, slut...”

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” She could feel him throbbing against her tongue.

“Oh my fucking... Mmmm!” Junho groaned in pleasure as his cock jumped in Ryujin’s tight, wet mouth. A viscous string of salty-sweet seed splashed the back of her throat, and she gagged at the unexpected force of it. Clamping her lips firmly around him, she managed to swallow just in time for another shot of cum to quickly fill the little space there was. She drank it down as swiftly as possible while his big cock pulsed wildly and relentlessly ejaculated into her. Ryujin surprised herself as she managed to mostly contain his impossibly heavy dose, only a small amount dribbling from the corners of her lips.

Junho watched the young girlfriend in a daze as she gulped down the last of his seed, and began sucking and licking his cock clean automatically. She continued to exceed his expectations, and he once again privately counted his blessings. He fantasized about keeping her in that room with him for the rest of the day, or at least for long enough to finally fuck her. That would have to wait, he decided, and he took her hand in his, lifting her to her feet and pulling her against him.

Ryujin lovingly licked away the last remnants of cum from his barely-deflated shaft. His potent flavor overwhelmed all of her senses, and she thought about how many nights she’d seen all of his fluids go to waste. This time, every drop was traveling down to her belly, which, for reasons she didn’t understand, was intensely erotic for her. She felt Junho’s strong hand take hers, and before she knew it, found herself in his arms again. He kissed her firmly, and she reciprocated, the taste of his tongue mixing into the already intoxicating Junho cocktail she was experiencing. She felt his hands roam down her back and slip into her pants. He squeezed her plump ass as their tongues swirled around each other, and her pussy drooled in anticipation. Her roommate’s thick finger traveled further down, disregarding the barrier of her panties, and tunneled its way to her soaking lips.

“Ohhh... Pleeease...” She moaned into his mouth as he lightly traced lines up and down her slick entrance. The last bit of caution she had regarding the setting melted away, as she grinded her sticky pussy into his fingers. Then he withdrew. Slowly, but deliberately, he retracted, and with one last kiss, left her without his touch.

“I’ll take care of you tonight,” he said seductively, and turned to leave.

Ryujin spent the next few minutes composing herself, mustering up every ounce of self-control not to finish herself off. She rehearsed a “normal” smile in the mirror, and strode back out into the store, the taste of her roommate still on her lips.

Ryujin returned home in the evening after a long day of work followed by shopping for materials she would need for her upcoming university classes. She entered the shared apartment to find Tae and Junho about to take a shot of alcohol.

“Heyyy! Just in time!” Her boyfriend, looking more clean-cut than he had in a while, greeted her cheerfully. “Guess what, babe? I landed a job!”

Ryujin’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way! That’s great! I didn’t even know you were-”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he explained, handing her a shot glass. “I’ve been in contact with them and had the in-person interview this morning, and they got back to me just a few hours later. The stars just aligned on this one!”

“That’s so awesome! Congrats!” She exclaimed, legitimately happy for him. The trio gulped down their celebratory liquid and enjoyed a couple rounds of a simple drinking game. Tae described his interview in more detail, and the others learned that the new job was a step down from his previous one, but still seemed decent and stable. Anything was better than the sedentary life he had been living for the past few months, Ryujin decided.

As the drinks flowed, the elephant in the room grew larger, until Tae finally broached the subject. “So I guess this means we can finally go back to normal, right?” He asked the group suddenly.

Ryujin waited to see if Junho would respond, and he did. “Eventually, yeah. Let’s wait to see that first paycheck though, eh big guy?” He chuckled, slapping his friend on the back. “Besides, I already paid for this month.” The handsome man smirked at his friend’s girlfriend knowingly, and she felt a tingle between her legs. She had just gulped down all of his cum that very morning, and shuddered at the thought of what he was planning to do to her that night.

“Well it won’t be much longer now. I start next week, so expect that money soon. We need to put this shit behind us,” he said firmly, surprising the others with his sudden boost in confidence. “Be right back.”

As Tae headed towards the bathroom, Junho wrapped an arm around Ryujin, and pulled her against him. “I guess that means we better make every second count,” he muttered in her ear as his hand roamed to her chest, squeezing her pliant flesh.

“Stop!” She whispered, squirming in his strong embrace. Both hands were now roughly groping her tits, and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. Her roommate’s warm breath bathed her neck before his teeth lightly scraped it. “Junho, seriously...” Ryujin protested as the dangerous sensations of her body’s consent began to spread in her loins.

As he kissed and nibbled her soft skin, Junho could actually feel her pulse quickening. The toilet flushed, and he slowly withdrew from the petite woman. “Where’s a dressing room when you need one?” He joked, smiling at her as she quickly composed herself and fixed her shirt.

“You’re such a fucking perv,” she chastised her roommate just before Tae returned to the couch. The game continued, and Junho took every chance to steal a feel of Ryujin, from subtly bumping his body into hers, to outright groping her when his friend was distracted. The man clearly had an appetite, and his risky advances were making her horny. At one point she let her gaze linger on the prominent bulge in his pants, and felt the urge to climb into his lap so he could put his hands all over her. After playing around a while longer, Tae announced he was ready for bed, and held his hand out to his girlfriend invitingly.

“Mmm wrong night, buddy.” Junho pointed out.

Tae shot him a look of disapproval. “I’m not going to sleep just yet. Will you join me, babe?”

“I see...” the cocky man laughed. “Enjoy, you two. But send her to my room when you’re done,” he instructed, winking.

Ryujin should’ve been used to his boldness by now, but still found herself slightly shocked that he would make such a suggestive comment in front of Tae. She rose to her feet and followed her boyfriend, thinking about how slutty it made her feel to be ordered around between the two bedrooms, and noticing that it turned her on.

As soon as they closed the door, Tae kissed her, and started removing her clothes. Ryujin was slightly taken aback by his newfound ability to take charge, but was pleasantly surprised. He pushed her to the bed, and rolled a condom onto his modest erection. He mounted his girlfriend, spearing her with his hardness, and began pumping away. “Wow, you’re so wet already,” he beamed. “My good news has you all excited, eh?” She nodded in response, focused on trying to get into the moment. While she was undoubtedly happy for his success, the moistness in her pussy was caused by Junho’s repeated sneaky touches throughout the night.

After nearly ten minutes of actually decent sex, compared to their recent attempts together, Tae ejaculated into his protection, and slumped on top of her. Ryujin had almost orgasmed, but ended up faking a small one as he finished. She thought about completing the job herself, or asking him to eat her out like the last time they were intimate, but decided to enjoy the restful moment with him instead. He’s too tired anyway, she rationalized to herself, refusing to acknowledge that perhaps she was saving herself for what would inevitably happen in the next bedroom.

The young woman lay there in silence, listening to her boyfriend’s deep breathing. She did feel guilty. She’d coexisted with the uncomfortable emotion for a while now, locking it away when she could, but forced to face it in the quiet moments. Whatever it was that had developed between her and Junho, it was going to come to an end. It always had to. Knowing it was a temporary thing made the guilt easier to deal with. Ryujin felt that her future self could move on and accept that she and her roommate were just getting something out of their systems during this odd time in their lives. It also helped to remind herself that they had managed to keep themselves from going all the way, and had not actually had sex, which had to count for something.

Tae’s breath slowed to a dull snore, and Ryujin scooted out from under the sleeping man. It was an Junho night, and she had to finish out the agreement. She slipped into a thong and baggy t-shirt before tiptoeing towards the bedroom at the other end of the apartment. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering about as she contemplated what might happen in there that night. Will he be waiting for me with his big hard dick in hand? Will he make me suck it again, and cum down my throat? Maybe he’ll lick my pussy. Ryujin grew hornier the more she thought about the vast menu of dirty acts they might indulge in. She reassured herself that as long as they didn’t push the boundaries any further, and were committed to stopping altogether soon, she could enjoy herself.

She opened the door and was surprised to find that the light was off, and her roommate was seemingly asleep already. How long had I been daydreaming? She wondered, trying to suppress her disappointment as she crawled into her side of the bed. “You asleep?” She whispered, lightly brushing his shoulder, but he did not react. Still in an aroused state, she lay motionless for several minutes, enjoying the comfortable mattress and pleasant fragrance of Junho’s room. A setting that had once been so new and surreal was quite familiar now, and she slowly drifted to sleep with the thought that it would be one of the last remaining nights she would experience it.

******

The first thing that Ryujin noticed as she regained consciousness was a throbbing sensation in her pelvic region, and that her pussy felt soaking wet. As she contemplated her dark surroundings, she realized that Junho was spooning her, and clutching her tightly against him. His broad forearm was resting snugly across her torso, and his hand had gone up her shirt. A tingle of pleasure shot from her chest to her sex as he twisted her erect nipple. He was awake, and he had her small frame completely constricted in his hold. Ryujin felt a warmth on her pussy, and gasped at the sudden awareness of what was happening. Junho’s big, hard cock was rubbing back and forth across her creamy folds, steadily tracing a line along her entrance, and making her gush as it made contact with her clit.

“Wh-What are you doing?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Giving you what you need, obviously.” He replied, his stubbly chin scratching the skin behind her ear.

“But, you can’t-” She argued, feeling utterly helpless in his powerful clutch. She wondered what had happened to her underwear, which had apparently been removed. The forbidden friction between their genitals felt so wickedly good, and her body craved more.

“Can’t what? Do this?” He thrust his hips ever so slightly forward and his thick head prodded against her tight entrance, threatening to break the seal.

“NO!” Ryujin shouted. Her mind was racing now. Is this really about to happen? Is his huge dick about to stretch me open? The intrusive thought had bombarded her mind for so long now, and it was on the brink of becoming a reality. Junho’s large hand snaked up her chest, through the opening of her shirt, and clamped over her mouth. “Mmm!” She half-moaned, half-protested into his meaty palm. Feeling even more powerless than before, she writhed against him, able to move just enough that his cock slipped out of the crater and slid along her slippery slit. It kept finding its way back though, and pushed into her barrier a bit harder each time.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to feel so amazing in a second. Just give in,” he murmured, his words equal parts titillating and threatening.

Ryujin felt like she was about to be devoured by a python as she struggled against her roommate. She was completely at his mercy and was realizing that she was not going to be able to stop him. Is he even wearing a condom? She doubted he’d bothered to use protection, and a shiver ran down her spine at the idea that he was about to stuff his bare dick into her. It was something she’d never experienced, and made her feel even more vulnerable than she already was.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re half asleep, and for all you know I’m your boyfriend. Just lay there and take it like a good little slut, okay?” Junho thrusted his throbbing cock more firmly still, and Ryujin’s tight hole began to stretch around the large, invading circumference. Somehow his twisted suggestion helped her relax slightly. She wasn’t the one pushing things further, and thus didn’t have to be responsible for it. She knew the logic was deeply flawed, but her brain was wholly flooded with desire and not capable of thinking straight. She could feel his fat, bulbous head sinking further into her one painfully slow centimeter at a time, and her pussy oozed lubrication to prepare for him.

Junho’s mushroom tip finally crossed the threshold, and it was suddenly buried completely, her taut walls enclosing it. As shallow as he was, it already felt like nothing Ryujin had ever experienced, and she braced herself for what would come next. Instead of further penetrating though, he went the other direction, slowly pulling out of her clinging pinkness.

He groaned quietly in her ear before pushing into her again, taking care to move as slowly as possible to allow her sex time to warm up to his. His roommate’s warm, gripping cunt felt even tighter than he imagined it would, and he was determined to enjoy every single fraction of a second as he breached her defenses. The sensation on the sensitive ridge of his crown as he passed into her again was euphoric, and he’d only barely sampled her surface. Junho felt his balls tighten as he fought the urge to drill into her further, managing his pace with all the control he could muster.

Ryujin’s entire body was ablaze. Her roommate’s careful teasing was breaking her will one painfully shallow thrust at a time. The need to have his fat cock fill more of her was becoming unbearable, and she began involuntarily bucking her hips back into him. Her efforts were mostly fruitless though, as he held her in place with unyielding rigidity. Her weak attempts to capture more of him only accomplished a dull feeling of shame as her deafening lust drowned out the last bits of reluctance she had left.

A thin layer of sweat was forming upon both of them as the heated interaction between their bodies went on. Junho continued to edge his tip in and out of her entrance, and could feel her juices coating him more and more, the viscous liquid running down the veiny surface area of his shaft. He felt her struggles to escape slowly morph into struggles to take in more of his cock, which would’ve prompted a triumphant grin if his face wasn’t already occupied with absolute pleasure.

“God, you feel incredible. Do you think your hot little pussy is ready for more of me?” He relaxed his grip on her jaw, allowing her the opportunity to reply as he continued to tease her.

“Nggghhh...” Ryujin couldn’t take it anymore. The rational part of her brain that had reaffirmed how wrong it was to be messing around with her roommate was lost in a thick soup of arousal. She was going to be fucked by Junho. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that mattered to her. He was going to take her whether she wanted it or not, and she privately accepted that she wanted it more than anything. She shuddered in his arms; the thought of his monster cock filling her up completely was her singular focus.

“Beg me for more you sexy little slut,” he commanded.

“Fuuuuck...” She moaned. Despite how badly she wanted him, to actually say it out loud was too depraved.

Junho ceased his thrusting after pulling out of her, his throbbing hardness resting against her clit. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Just say it, and I’ll handle the rest...”

“Uggghh! Mmmpfff!” Ryujin tried desperately to wiggle her bottom into him, but could only slather her drenched lips against his skin. It wasn’t enough. Nothing but his entire, juicy dick fucking her would ever be enough. “Fuck! Fuck me! PLEASE FUCK ME!” As the words left her lips, her creamy opening was parted and her depths were stretched around him as he tunneled into her. “OHHHHH!” Her mind felt like it was exploding as every surface of her tight pussy was assaulted by his thick, throbbing cock. It forced its way deeper and deeper for what felt like an eternity, until it battered against her cervix. “FUCK!” She was absolutely stuffed full of Junho, and it felt like nothing she could’ve ever described before. She could perceive every subtle contour of his naked member pulsing inside of her, his skin against hers with no protective barrier.

Then he pulled out, swiftly and smoothly, the entire length passing through her again in reverse. She gasped sharply for air, just in time for him to plunge back into her. His hips crashed into bare ass with a loud slap, sending ripples throughout her curves as his invading cock sent shockwaves throughout the deepest parts of her. “FUHUHUHHHCK!” Ryujin’s muscles tensed up, and she was suddenly aware that a massive orgasm was about to consume her. “YES! YES! YESSSS!”

Junho unleashed his third powerful stroke, and Ryujin let out a guttural moan as she came the hardest she ever had in her life. As her body was flooded with endorphins, she writhed against him in total pleasure. He remained firmly planted inside of her, and she could feel her pussy spasming and clenching around him. She felt as though she was on a different planet as her climax rocked her body relentlessly. After floating on a cloud for a length of time that was not perceivable to her, she felt her roommate’s big cock move within her again.

With another loud crack of skin on skin impact, he thrust into her a fourth time, then a fifth. The fire that was Ryujin’s orgasm was stoked again and again as he fucked her with a steady and deliberate rhythm. “Oh my FUCKING Gahhhh!” Her screams of approval trembled as he pummeled her. The most potent climax of her life also became the longest as he would not let up. She couldn’t believe how incredibly intense it felt to be taken by him. She wondered if she had just discovered what sex was supposed to be like. Surely not. Surely it was exceedingly rare to feel this fucking good. She dug her fingernails into his forearm, holding on for dear life as he continued assaulting her.

Junho was utterly enthralled by his roommate’s body as he gave her his all. He was finally experiencing what he’d dreamed about for months, and it was even better than everything he’d hoped for. Her tight, creamy pussy hugged his cock perfectly as he molded her depths. The feel of her supple young body spasming in his arms, and her uncontrollable moans of pleasure were beyond encouraging. He was elated at how quickly she had taken to his dick. As he slammed into her again and again, his room was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling. If his friend happened to be awake, he thought, there would be absolutely no hiding what was occurring. He was too wrapped up in the moment to care though, and he focused all of his attention on the gorgeous woman that he was currently inside of.

“God... Damn... That... Pussy... Feels... Good...” Junho growled with each firm thrust into Ryujin. He had the idea to slow down for a minute; to kiss her, and to let her face him. He decided that it wasn’t the time for sensual love-making though. If there was too much consent on her part, perhaps the guilt would overwhelm her, and create more of a future obstacle. In time, he planned, she would get over that, and be completely his, but he had to navigate the waters carefully. In that moment, only raw, animalistic fucking was what she needed. He would continue to take her from behind and give her an experience she would never forget.

With that thought, he stopped pumping for a moment, and lifted himself onto his knees while rotating her body, resting upon her prone form. Ryujin whimpered as he pulled out of her, her thighs still twitching slightly. There was just enough moonlight to see that her entire bottom was coated in glistening juices. Her full, round ass looked immensely appetizing as he lined up his slimy cock with her swollen pussy. He entered her slowly at first, bottoming out and savoring the return of her warm, wet embrace. “Mmm... This slutty little body was made for big cock,” he grumbled as he squeezed her malleable cheeks. Junho adjusted himself into a push-up like position with his hands on her lower back, wrapping most of her narrow waist in his sizable grip.

Ryujin was still in such a daze that she was barely aware of Junho moving on top of her. She felt a sudden vast emptiness that longed to be filled again, and unintelligibly cried out for more as her body was pinned against the mattress under his considerable weight. Finally, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched around him returned, and she clamped her eyes shut to endure it. “Ohhhhfff... Yes!” The new positioning felt different somehow, and her pussy gushed at the new variety of stimulation. She felt a bead of sweat dribble down the bridge of her nose before it was launched onto the pillow as Junho bucked into her from behind. “Oh my GOD!” She clenched the fabric in desperation as her roommate’s big dick began pounding her again. The amount of force that was being exerted into her body was mind-blowing. She had never felt so engulfed in dominance, as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll to be fucked by this apex masculine creature. It awakened something primal in her, and she came again at the thought of it. “I’M CUMMM-OHHHH!”

“Fuck yes baby... Cum all over that big cock you slut!” Junho was giving it to her at a renewed pace, his pelvis crashing into her ass again and again. Her convulsing pussy felt so incredibly good, and he groaned through the ecstasy that her responsive body was dealing him. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upper body towards him, curving her flexible spine. He leaned back and continued to take her with him, her knees bending and bottom lifting off of the bed. With one hand on her luscious hip and the other still tangled up in her hair, he continued fucking his best friend’s girlfriend with all the strength he had.

Ryujin felt numb with pleasure from head to toe as her roommate had his way with her. It felt like she was being fucked through one long continuous orgasm, and she wanted it to never end. She was completely dumbfounded at the immense contrast between sex with her boyfriend, and the mouth-watering brutish treatment she was experiencing at that moment. Tae felt good inside of her, but she almost always needed some additional form of external stimulation to complement him. Junho, on the other hand, was a totally different feeling, and he was reaching places deep inside of her that had never been touched before. In addition to his ability to use his massive cock, the way he manhandled her and manipulated her body to suit him was an insanely hot turn on.

Junho admired Ryujin’s luscious figure beneath him. He couldn’t believe his luck at how deep she was able to take him in. He was penetrating her with his entire length, and it felt like the exact perfect fit. He was fucking her like a wild man, and she seemed to be loving every second of it. His heavy balls were constricting as they slapped repeatedly into her clit, and he began to feel that he was ready to burst. He slammed into her for the final few strokes he could manage before releasing a deep, satisfying roar and pulling out of her with a loud squelch. His throbbing cock instantly launched a thick, lengthy rope of semen that splattered against the back of her head and ran down the entire length of her spine. Another viscous strand was flung onto her, and several more followed, coating the young girlfriend’s backside in his sticky seed.

Ryujin moaned repeatedly as she felt her roommate climaxing all over her. She reveled in the dirty feeling of his cum forcefully blasting against her skin while her own orgasm still pulsed within her. He let go of her hair and her face slumped into the pillow, the sudden darkness only enhancing her sense of touch. The last two spurts splashed against her pussy directly, which felt titillating and erotic in a dangerous sort of way. She felt his shockingly heavy load pooling at the curved small of her back, and dripping down her ass cheeks. The thoroughly fucked woman remained still for a while with her plump bottom in the air, catching her breath while her head span aimlessly in a dense fog of ecstasy.

SMACK!

Junho’s wide palm brought her back to reality as he slapped her exposed cheek, sending beads of semen flying. She let out a girlish yelp that normally would’ve embarrassed her, but in that moment it was who she was. She was Junho’s fuck doll, and she felt far too satisfied to question it; more satisfied in fact, than possibly ever before. She collapsed into the soft mattress and felt him cover her with the blanket before passing out.

******

When Ryujin woke again, her brain felt clear and calm, but something about the lighting in the room felt off. She reached for her phone and felt a stab of panic as she realized she had slept in well past her usual rising time. Remembering she had the day off made the lateness of the morning less troubling, but there were several missed texts from Tae. She sat up, and the stinging soreness between her legs flooded her with memories of the previous night. She glanced over and was relieved to find that Junho had already left. She quickly swiped at her screen, fearing that her boyfriend had surely heard the debauchery. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” She cursed to herself, regretting how recklessly loud she had been. Her worries began to fade as she read his messages. He made no comments suggesting that he had any idea of what had transpired. He merely asked if she wanted to wake up and join him for some “Back to work” shopping.

As she peeled the blanket from her sticky body, she silently thanked the universe that Tae had not come to wake her in person. She twisted her torso to discover that she was still absolutely covered in her roommate’s drying cum. If her boyfriend had simply cracked the door open, the smell of the room alone would’ve been a dead giveaway. The stink of sex hung heavily in the air, a potent reminder of how intense the evening had been. Despite how physically sore and mentally conflicted she felt at that moment, the memories of the encounter and the evidence all over her skin was highly arousing. Her pussy was swollen and red, yet was already beginning to leak her sexual fluids. The feeling of Junho’s cock inside of her was not an easily dismissable thought, and the way he had taken her was nothing short of mind-blowing. Ryujin resisted the urge to touch herself, and instead jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.

As the scalding water cleared the mess that Junho had left behind, Ryujin pondered her current predicament. Gone was the comfort that full-on, penetrative sex was still reserved for Tae alone, the last remaining pillar of her faithfulness in shambles. If only she had been able to summon the strength to prevent it. Then again, she thought, Did I even really have a say at all? HE fucked ME, and not the other way around. I was just trying to sleep. Ryujin’s mind rationalized the event for nearly an hour in the steamy bathroom, and she emerged ready to face the day.

She made plans to meet Tae at her clothing store to help him pick out some new outfits for work. They ended up spending the entire day out and about, and she did her best to bury any guilty feelings that arose intermittently. That night, Tae did not make a move to have sex, which quelled her fears that he would somehow be able to notice what Junho had done to her.

******

The next evening, Ryujin began to grow nervous as she would be joining her alluring roommate in bed, and didn’t know what to expect. They had only seen each other briefly in passing since he’d fucked her, and she had done a lot of processing since then without running it by him. She was going to attempt to reestablish some boundaries, but in the back of her mind, knew it was a nearly impossible challenge. When the time came, she kissed Tae goodnight, and entered Junho’s room with determination. He was sitting on the bed, fully naked, looking like a chiseled statue of peak masculinity. She felt a tingle in her pussy and his eyes on her while she walked around to her side and sat next to him, leaving her tiny elastic shorts on.

“So...” She started, not yet knowing which words to select. “We shouldn’t do that again...”

“Do what?” He grinned, brushing some hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“You know...” She could feel herself blushing. The physical contact from him in the space where he so recently had his way with her spawned a spark between her legs.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Junho said playfully. He knew it was a sensitive subject that required careful maneuvering.

“Okay, uhhh. But seriously, that stuff is dangerous. Like... It’s too good...” She admitted shamefully, dropping her chin.

He smiled at her, and tilted her head up with his finger. “Whatever you say.” He cupped her feminine jaw in his large hand, and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. Her pussy gushed.

Ugh, why is he being all weird? Ryujin wasn’t sure what he was up to, but figured he was probably planning something. “We can still like... mess around and stuff. As long as we’re committed to ending all of this when we start paying rent again.” Her eyes dropped to his bare cock, which was slowly inflating to its full size. I can’t believe that fucking thing was inside of me.

Junho pressed his thumb against her lips, and eased it into her mouth. She responded by lightly sucking on it, becoming increasingly turned on by the second.

“Mess around, eh?” He asked calmly.

“Mhmm,” Ryujin nodded cutely in agreement while swirling her tongue around his finger, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation.

Junho gently removed his thumb from her mouth. “That’s okay. You’re right. Best not to push it. We should just go to sleep.”

“But-” She shot a glance at his massive erection, shocked by his sudden denial.

He lightly tapped her cheek with his palm. “Goodnight Ryujin,” he said, grinning, before turning away from her and switching off the light.

The young woman sat there in the dark, bewildered and horny, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She wasn’t going to beg him to touch her, if that was the game he was playing. She did want him to though. Bastard... She accepted the turn of events and lay on her side to go to sleep.

After several minutes, just as she started to drift off, she noticed a rustling behind her. There was movement in her blanket, and suddenly her shorts were ripped all the way down her legs and clean off of her. Before she knew what was happening, she felt Junho’s large frame shove against hers, and his hands squeeze her chest. “Hey!” She thrashed against his hard body, instinctively fighting to get away from his trap. “Are you serious? We just-” Her breath was taken away as he shoved his hard cock straight into her without warning. She was still plenty moist, and her pussy welcomed his intrusion. “Anghhh!” The pleasure center of her brain was abruptly firing on all cylinders as he eased his way to her deepest reaches.

“Shhh... You’re still asleep, remember?” He whispered mischievously.

“Ngh... Oh fuck... Ohmmmy God... You fucking ass... Ooooh!” Ryujin moaned as quietly as she could, remembering that not much time had passed since she’d parted ways with her boyfriend, who was likely still awake in the other room.

“If you weren’t soaking wet for this, maybe I’d reconsider, but I need to give your body what it wants.” Junho’s big cock plunged in and out of her sopping wet hole at a calm, but steady pace, while he groped her covered tits. She gasped as he easily tore the flimsy fabric of her top into two pieces, exposing her jiggling breasts, before continuing to roughly caress her. Here she was once more, fully under his control, and powerless to stop the man’s aggressive assault. All she could do was hold on tight, and savor the delight of cumming on his fat dick over and over again. He made her feel so devilishly good, and she was secretly thrilled that he ignored her original protest.

Junho fucked her long and hard that night, albeit slightly more gently than their first session, knowing that her body was still adapting to him. His sexy roommate’s heart-shaped ass served as the perfect cushion to thrust against, and her soft moans into the pillow were music to his ears. Every time she came he would relish in the feel of her hot little body quivering beneath him while her tight pussy squeezed his cock. He finished in the same fashion as before, painting her exposed skin with his copious load before calling it a night. Ryujin was left panting, swimming in pleasure, and drifting off to a deeply satisfying slumber while drenched in his semen.

The following morning, she was the first to wake, and smirked at the realization that her roommate was still spooning her, fast asleep. She could feel his raging hard-on poking her butt, excited by the notion that they were apparently both still horny. She carefully shifted her body out of his embrace, and rotated him to be on his back. Ryujin threw her hair back, and lowered her face to his stiff erection. It smelled of sex, and she touched it with the tip of her tongue to sample the potent flavor of their combined juices. It was intoxicating, in the best way, and she licked it all over. She longed to straddle him and feel that thick cock sink into her needy pussy, but that would be too forward. She couldn’t allow herself to be the one to initiate sex with him, as that would erase the miniscule amount of innocence she had left. Instead, she took him into her mouth, and began sucking him lovingly.

Junho stirred, lazily opening his eyes to see his beautiful roommate with her lips around his dick. “Hoooohfff... Well good morning, you little slut,” he muttered, placing his hands behind his head. He let himself sink into the comfortable bed as he savored Ryujin’s warm mouth fervently sucking him off.

She popped him out of her mouth, slowly stroking his saliva-coated shaft with one hand. “Be quiet. I just need to take care of this before it gets you into trouble. Who knows what you would try to do to me...” She explained playfully.

“Good point. Unspeakable things, probably,” he flirted back. “Mmmm... Yesss. Right there...” He palmed her head and pushed gently in encouragement. She was bobbing her head enthusiastically while stroking the base of his cock with her soft hand. It felt amazing, and Junho relished in the glorious wake-up call that his friend’s girlfriend was giving him willingly.

“Jeez, don’t you ever run out of stamina?” She asked teasingly, taking a brief moment to catch her breath.

“Never. How else would I claim you for myself?” He chuckled, noting his dried cum on her shoulder.

“You wish,” she answered.

“Why don’t you cut the bullshit and climb on for a ride, sexy?”

“I can’t do that. You know I only have sex with my boyfriend.”

“Ohhh riiight.”

The pair exchanged knowing glances before she took him back into her mouth. Ryujin slurped and stroked his big dick diligently until he unloaded his balls down her throat while flexing his muscular thighs from the overwhelming pleasure. She drank all of his spunk down and sucked every last drop from the tip of his head. “Finally. Now we can get on with our day,” she rolled her eyes and smiled slyly, then got out of bed to collect her clothes. Ryujin scoffed at her ripped up shirt, and threw it at her roommate impishly. “Now I have to get to the bathroom topless, you jerk!”

Junho reached for his crumpled up t-shirt on the floor, and tossed it in her direction.

“Hmmpf!” She voiced defiantly, slipping the oversized garment onto her bare torso. She quietly opened the bedroom door, and peeked into the apartment’s living space to confirm that it was empty. Ryujin tiptoed across the room to the bathroom, and grabbed the cool door handle. Against all odds, she was greeted by Tae’s voice, emerging from his bedroom.

“Morning, babe.” He muttered sleepily, causing Ryujin to freeze in her tracks. “What are you wearing?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh... This? I dunno... Oh yeah. It’s Junho’s shirt,” she stammered, knowing it was too obvious of a fact to lie about. “I... spilled water on mine last night, and didn’t feel like walking all the way to my closet...” She could feel her cheeks turning crimson with guilt, but forced herself to look her boyfriend in the eyes.

“Okay...” Tae replied, clearly suspicious, and not particularly thrilled that his girlfriend was seemingly naked under his friend’s shirt.

Ryujin awkwardly forced a smile, and entered the bathroom hastily. God dammit, Ryujin... The guilt-ridden woman bathed herself, feeling badly that things had gotten so out of hand. Just minutes ago she was lovingly servicing Junho’s big cock with her mouth, and she had initiated it. When did I become such a fucking slut? Why can’t I control myself around that man? She could feel the aftermath of what he had done to her last night, as if he had rearranged her insides. Even now, amidst all of her shame and remorse, a filthy, nagging part of her brain wanted to fuck him again. There wasn’t any space to feel guilty while her mind was occupied fantasizing about her dominant roommate storming in there, shoving her up against the wall, and having his way with her.

******

There were two more Junho nights before Tae’s first day at the new job, and on both occasions, Ryujin was dripping wet before she even entered his bedroom. Her resolve to be good quickly fell apart, and she stripped all of her clothes off and placed them in a neat pile. She told herself that she couldn’t control what he would do, so she might as well not have her wardrobe ripped to shreds. While it did make sense to preserve her clothing, the more glaring reason was to entice the man to make a move, and provide the easiest access. She slipped under the covers and lay in her sleeping position.

“Don’t even think about it.” Facing away from him, she felt like bait, pretending to innocently go to sleep, and knowing that at any minute the big bad predator would be all over her. Her needy pussy leaked generously as she waited with anticipation for him to fill her. She never looked at him during the act, nor directly encouraged him, afraid to cross the line of “questionable consent” that they had established. She knew it was a dicey game to play, but worried that her guilt might reach the point of no return if she was fucking her roommate behind her boyfriend’s back as an outwardly willing participant.

After just a handful of rounds with him, Ryujin was becoming addicted to Junho’s cock. She found herself daydreaming about it constantly: the way it felt when it entered her for the first time each encounter, filling her perfectly; the manly aggression she was subjected to as it pummeled her insides, using her tight welcoming hole to get to the finish line; and the degrading but delicious sensation of being covered in the dominant man’s virile load while she lay there in the most vulnerable position.

When the time finally came and Tae announced that his initial day at work had gone well, Ryujin was relieved, though there was a part of her that didn’t want the agreement to end. Her boyfriend was all set to earn his first paycheck in two weeks, at which point there would no longer be any reason to sleep in Junho’s bed. She thought back to when her roommate had first proposed the arrangement. Mere months ago he shocked her with the wild suggestion, but it felt like ancient history. Her past self wouldn’t have been able to fathom what had become of her, but also was completely oblivious to the mind-bending pleasures that were possible.

She and Junho did not openly discuss the impending end date, but they both kept it in mind while carrying on with their routine. Ryujin continued to strip naked and let him have his way with her for each of their final nights together. Though they did the deed more or less in the same fashion each time, it grew no less exciting, and each of their forbidden encounters became the highlight of their day.

On the last night of the agreement, she resisted the urge to break the routine with some symbolic gesture, but Junho had other plans. After losing track of how many times he’d made her cum, she felt the familiar sensation of his cock swelling inside her to signal his orgasm had arrived. She waited in anticipation for him to pull out, but instead he thrust firmly into her again and held still, tightly clutching her hips to trap her against him.

“Oh fuck! Wh-What are you- OHHHH!” Ryujin moaned in ecstasy as she felt a warm jet of semen splash against her cervix. Her roommate’s wildly throbbing dick shot rope after rope of thick, sticky seed deep within her unprotected pussy. He groaned hoarsely and thrust in and out of her ever so slightly while draining his big balls into her. The feeling of Junho’s huge cock spraying its dangerous, heavy load at her deepest depths was quite possibly the hottest thing she had ever experienced. Already blissfully enjoying the way he dominated her, to have him seal the deal and lay claim over her womb took it to the next level. Her fertile young womb, which she had always taken such immense precautions to guard, was now being flooded with what she could only imagine was billions of very capable sperm.

It was as if Ryujin’s biology kicked into overdrive, and she helplessly quivered against her roommate as her brain was saturated in endorphins. Her pussy eagerly milked the ejaculating cock for all its worth, as she came in unison with him. It was exhilarating to think that her body was doing everything it could to soak up as much of his seed as possible, with an utter disregard for any consequences. Junho pumped jet after jet of his thick spunk for what felt like an impossible length of time. There was simply no space left in her stuffed cunt, and she felt the creamy substance overflowing and dribbling down her thighs.

“Unnnghhh... Take all of that cum you fucking slut. You’re mine now, do you understand?” Junho grunted, staying firmly planted within her as his big cock spurted the last few drops.

“Oh my God... Fuuuuck...” Ryujin couldn’t think straight, feeling wholly dominated and satisfied in the moment. “Yesss... Ngghhh... I’m your... Slut... Ohhh fuck... So much... Fucking... Cum. Give me it all...”

Junho finally broke the seal, pulling out of her and releasing the extraordinary pressure that had been built up inside of her. His gooey, pearlescent semen flowed out of her gaping pussy like lava. It was a shame for so much of it to go to waste, he thought, but was confident that it was only the first of many loads he would put inside of her. If he had learned anything about his roommate, it was that she was not going to be able to resist him for long, agreement or not. He moved to his spot but watched her delicate form intently. He felt nearly ready at that moment to confess that his feelings for her had blossomed into something more than just sexual desire. It would be better to wait though. He would give her a chance to realize herself that she wouldn’t be able to go back to how things were.

Ryujin collapsed onto the soiled sheets and basked in the post-orgasm glow, her upper back rising and falling as she caught her breath. As she drifted back down to reality, she recognized that she should be more concerned with the fact that Junho had finished inside of her, and that the massive pool of cum was still oozing out of her. She convinced herself that it was a problem to worry about tomorrow, and that tonight was for dwelling on pleasure only.

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