#Skyline fic
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mossistyping · 5 months ago
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If anything Williams has just given me a reason to make my sargebon fic more rancid. It's gonna be so stupid. You tell me terrible news on day two of my period? I will explode you with my mind AND make my blorbos fuck harder.
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seongsangssbitch · 1 year ago
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Seonghwa X Reader
Fuck me like you mad at me baby
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Pairing Drug dealer Seonghwa X illegal racer(afab reader)
Word count: 8k (4.5k plot)
Summary ⇢ What would happen if you got entangled with your best friend's twin brother, who has an illegal side hustle? It's not like what you do isn't illegal either
Warning: Minors Dni, sub! reader dom! seonghwa, blowjob, edging, overstimulation, smoking, mention of guns and violence, cunnilingus, penetration, unprotected sex, car sex, dry humping, degradation, praise, breeding kink, cigarette, shotgunning, slight choking, begging, drug usage, consensual (tell me if i miss out on something I wrote this at 3am)
Smut with plot
“Junho i swear to god if you don't come to the drift meet which is after 3 days i will gut you like a pig,” you said to your best friend on the way home as he giggled at you
“I promise girl I'm coming, can't wait to see you lose,” he said as you turned to look at him with a long glare
“Want to sit in my car and go for a ride Park Junho?”
He shivered and declined
“I can't trust you with my life”
Before you could reply his phone suddenly rang he picked up hastily after seeing the caller id
“Hyung?” He meekly said as the other line shouted some coherent words you couldn't understand
“Hmm” he replied and cut the call looking at you with a sigh
“Looks like my brother needs me, see you later y/n”
You looked at his disappearing figure sighing loudly cursing his brother for always calling him during important times.
“Seems like bad news already”
-
Junho walked to the location his brother had seemingly sent to him
He walked through the dark hallways, bodyguards situated every 5 meters apart glaring down at his frail figure, noticing Seonghwa at the very end sitting on his colossal seat manspreading in his leather pants while he ate the apple from the very tip of the knife he cut it with, looking at Junho with that smile on his face. Reaching closer to him, Junho bowed down not looking up as a guard came from behind and held his hands behind his back making him wince a little.
Seonghwa glared at the bodyguard and stood up.
“That’s my brother you moron,” He said threatening the guard as the guard slowly backed away.
Walking closer to Junho, Seonghwa tried to hold his cheeks softly but Junho just looked to the side as. Seonghwa sighed taking out a stash of cash from a duffle bag near them
“That’s for the rent,” He said but Junho just looked down
“I can manage it hyung don't worry about anything” He replied with a shaky voice as Seonghwa just rolled his eyes deeply and sighed
“I don't like owing anyone money, take it this instant”
“You owe me nothing seonghwa hyung, it's my duty as a brother to let you stay in my house” Junho whispered back clearly intimidated by the presence of the bodyguard. Noticing his discomfort Seonghwa dismissed the men around Junho.
“Calm down Junho you know I'm not going to do anything to you,” Seonghwa said his voice a bit softer now seeing his twin be so scared around him.
Honestly, he never knew how he ended up like this
Junho was the perfect model child, the epitome of kindness, and the sweetest child ever who excelled in both school and his life
While seonghwa, the rebellious outcast of the family who was kicked out as soon as he hit the raw age of 18, getting picked off from the streets by a drug dealer and now continuing the legacy 8 years later. He still lived with Junho wanting to maintain the bond but the younger one didn't seem to reciprocate it, since that one day 2 years ago.
-
“Hyung” 24-year-old Junho happily said walking towards Seonghwa’s office to give him the ice scream he specially brought for him as he suddenly heard a blood-curdling scream
He saw the open door and peeked inside seeing a sight that would make even the strongest throw up.
Seeing his sweet and caring brother throwing the most brutal and violent punches toward the frail body that lay under him, the blood sprayed out the body with every punch he gave him
“You dare fool me with your money twice Jaeyong” he whispered as the body just whimpered under him
“After stealing from us, you dared to even think of selling your wife and daughter to us, for what? Just so you could continue snorting up some drugs while your wife gets forced into prostitution?”
“Why do you care, you're getting the money” the man named Jaeyong whispered as Seonghwa stood up taking a gun from under his belt and cocking it
Seonghwa's eyes narrowed, and he replied with a cold, unwavering tone, "Because I still have morals, unlike you," as he pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoed through the room
Junho gasped outside the door as the icecream left his hand, seonghwa looked out with the speed of light, his eyes going wide as he noticed his brother outside
“Jun-” he began but the younger one had already run away
Seonghwa shivered at the memory looking up to see his brother already walking away with the money bag in his hand
--
It was the day of the drift meet ,you checked around your Nissan Skyline for some damage, wearing a pink miniskirt with pink knee-high boots and a blue crop top in open raven hair. Junho was nowhere to be found as you frantically messaged him.
Meanwhile, Seonghwa stood at the top of the elevated platform in his faux coat over a golden satin shirt, the buttons opened till his collarbones and leather pants in Alexander McQueen leather boots getting a clear view of the drifters
“Who are you placing your bet on Seonghwa?” His friend asked as he shrugged at him, eyeing a particular raven head as Seonghwa grinned.
“I bet on the drifter with pretty legs,” He said and Hongjoong chuckled at him from the side
“The skyline? Don't be fooled by her pretty face this is her first drift race, she always raced speed before, i wouldn't bet that much money if i were you”
Ignoring him Seonghwa walked down the platform, the click sound of his heels and the chain noises made you look up towards the platform
“Oi Skyline,” he said as you looked around and pointed toward yourself
You looked at the man in front of you who looked eerily similar to Junho
“Junho?” You accidentally blurted out as he poked the inside of his face with his tongue with a sinister smile
“Park Seonghwa”
A tube light lit above your head as you remembered that he was the organizer of the race as you bowed down at him with respect
“I'm betting 3Mil on you, pretty face, if you lose this race, that skyline is mine and if you win I'll gift you something,” he said with a small smirk on his face as he pointed towards your car with his eyes and walked back before you could reply to him
“Fuck” you muttered under your breath, calling Junho again and again but the man still wouldn't pick up.
“If i lose I'm blaming it on you Junho”
A man came from the side and handed you a small packet filled with white powder and you looked at him confused
“It’s called Synth, it’s given especially to the drifter who Mr. Park bets on so the adrenaline doesn't run out,” He said and you hesitatingly took it
“If you lose the race you have to pay for the drug too”
“How much is it” You said eyeing it with suspicion as the man smirked slightly
“You’ll know after the race”
-
The night air was thick with anticipation as you revved the engine of the skyline. The industrial area served as the battleground for the night's illicit drift race, with a crowd of eager spectators huddled in the shadows, their whispers blending with the distant hum of engines.
"Ready"
"Set"
"Go !!"
As the signal to start echoed through the air, your car shot forward, tires burning rubber on the gritty asphalt. The neon-lit track blurred into streaks of color as the car skillfully navigated the twists and turns, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
The first corner approached, and you executed a calculated drift, the car's tail sliding around the bend. You pulled the gear lever and pressed the accelerator ready to slide around the road.
However, something went amiss. The tires lost traction, and the car veered off course. In an instant, you found yourself fighting to regain control as competitors sped past you, their engines drowning out the disappointed murmurs from the crowd.
Desperation gripped you as you struggled to catch up, but each attempt to close the gap only seemed to widen it further. The once-confident drifts now felt strained and forced, the rhythm disrupted and you kept on confusing the accelerator to the breaks due to the stress. As the final stretch loomed, you could see the finish line slipping away.
The drug seemed to only elevate your anxiety as sweat dripped down your forehead, looking to the side to see the tall man with a ponytail simply taking a puff off his cigarette and looking straight at you with a smirk on his face.
‘That bitch knew i was gonna lose’
With a heavy heart, you crossed the line, the cheers of the crowd now transformed into sympathetic murmurs. You parked your car in defeat, tears threatening to fall out as the engine cooled down.
The man walked down with a smirk plastered on his face
“Seems like the skyline is mine,” He said and you looked at him with anger
“You knew i would lose,” She said and he sarcastically scoffed at her
“A deal’s a deal sweetheart, you lost the drift and now the car is mine. You gotta pay for the synth too,” He said and moved his jacket aside to show you the gun by his waistband as he winked at you while walking away
“There was no deal you simply just betted on me, i came here to have fun not try to get the name of the next DK”
Seonghwa stopped in his tracks and looked back at you with that annoying grin on his face yet again
“A deal’s a deal doll," I said what i said. You've got a good memory for details, I'll give you that. But in this world, it's not about fairness; it's about seizing opportunities. And you just handed me a golden one. Your Nissan Skyline? It's mine now. Don't worry, I'll take good care of it. Consider it the cost of underestimating the stakes in our little game”
His unapologetic answer just made you stomp annoyed and toss him your car keys
“ Let me make a deal with you too then ��park seonghwa’ if i win the next drift race, give me back my skyline”
He looked at her with amusement and a sly grin, as if he had just met his match, The playful glint in his eyes hinted at the fact that he was thoroughly enjoying the banter and looking forward to the unfolding drama. It was almost as if he found her attempts to challenge him amusing, adding another layer of intrigue to the dangerous game they were playing.
“Ah, using my card against me, I see. You're a gutsy one, I'll give you that. Win the next drift race, and I'll consider giving your precious Skyline back. But let's be real here, sweetheart, the odds are stacked against you. I wouldn't get your hopes up too high. If, by some miracle, you manage to pull it off, maybe we can talk about keeping things interesting. But until then, enjoy the thrill of the chase."
At that very exact moment, your best friend called you as you cursed at the phone picking it up
“I'm coming to your house for the night, don't dare say no,” you said and cut the call angrily strolling towards your friend’s residence, The cold evening air stung your cheeks . Your determination to escape your recent defeat in the drift race was palpable, your quick strides carrying you toward Junho's residence.
Unbeknownst to her, the sleek silhouette of a black Ferrari SF90 stealthily followed her through the dimly lit streets.
With every step, the unease of the recent loss fueled her frustration, and she muttered to herself, "I need to win in the next race" Little did she know that her night was about to take an unexpected turn.
Reaching Junho's house, you rang the doorbell with a sense of urgency, your emotions still raw from the race. The door opened, revealing the dimly lit interior. Before you could register anything else, a voice from the shadows behind you interrupted your thoughts.
"Fancy seeing you outside my house, princess," Seonghwa's voice, dripping with a teasing undertone came from behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. You flinched, your eyes narrowing at the unexpected encounter. The black Ferrari SF90 parked nearby now made sense.
Junho, unaware of the underlying tension, opened the door wider with a warm smile. "Hey, Y/n!, oh hey Seonghwa hyung Come on in," he greeted, his voice wavering a bit noticing his brother beside his best friend but he regained his composure.
As you stepped inside, you couldn't shake off the feeling of Seonghwa's eyes on you .His teasing demeanor persisted, his words carefully chosen to provoke a reaction. "Did you miss me, princess?" he whispered, leaning casually against your ear
Rolling your eyes, you retorted,” You don't have your little bodyguards here to save you if i do punch you, sir." Her dislike for Seonghwa was evident, but he merely chuckled, enjoying her annoyance.
“You two know each other?” Junho asked visibly confused
“Why didn't you ever tell me your brother is organizing the race I'm going to, i would never have gone,” She said sending a glare to Seonghwa
“Oh wait, why didn't YOU come??”
Junho scratched his ear sheepishly as he pulled you with him inside his room.
“My brother denied me leaving the house today, that's why i couldn't come, sorry to not pick up your call,” He said as you visibly rolled your eyes yet again
“Your brother is an asshole by the way, he looks exactly like you but that menacing glint in his eyes puts it off for me,” You said as Junho tried to shush you
"He's not your typical underground race organizer, Y/n. Seonghwa is the mastermind behind PRDGM Glitch and controls the entire underground drug trade. You can't afford to say shit to someone like him, even if he happens to be my brother. And please, be cautious.”Junho cautioned, his voice dropping to a hushed tone on the last note.
Your expression tightened at Junho's revelations, absorbing the gravity of Seonghwa's influence. A mixture of apprehension and determination flickered in filled your eyes as you replied, "I appreciate the warning, Junho. But where did you even get the idea that I'm planning to overthrow him or something?"
Junho sighed, a mixture of concern and understanding etching his features. "You look like you’re planning something."
You met Junho's gaze, appreciating the genuine worry in his eyes. "I'll be cautious, Junho. calm down I'm not killing him or something I'm just going to win the next drift race and bring my car back easy," you reassured, a silent pact passing between you two.
“WAIT what happened to the car?” He asked and you glared at the door which separated your from the man sitting outside
“You should ask your brother,” You said and walked towards the door opening it
Making your way into the drawing room, where Seonghwa waited, Junho couldn't shake off the lingering worry. His brother's world was a dangerous one, and he hoped you wouldn’t do anything rash.
In the drawing-room, Seonghwa lounged in a plush chair, a smoldering atmosphere surrounding him. His tall figure, adorned in a faux coat that cascaded effortlessly over his shoulders, hinted at a mixture of casual opulence and dangerous allure. The sheen of leather pants hugged his legs, emphasizing a predatory grace. A gold satin shirt, buttons undone to the collarbones, revealed a hint of the sculpted chest, adding an extra layer to the enigma he presented.
Seonghwa's eyes followed your entrance with an intense, predatory glint, and a wry smile played on his lips. "Well, well, the princess returns. Missed me, didn't you?" he quipped his words a dance between taunt and intrigue, the tension between you simmering beneath the surface.
As he spoke, Seonghwa took leisurely puffs from his cigarette, the tendrils of smoke curling into the air. His posture exuded confidence, a man spread that suggested a combination of power and nonchalance. The room seemed to bend to his will, and the air thickened with an undeniable magnetism, making it hard to decipher whether it was the surroundings or Seonghwa himself that cast the intoxicating spell.
You just ignored him and sat on the other end of the room next to your best friend
The night just continued, with Seonghwa leaving to his room barely 15 minutes into the conversation. You and Junho continued with different plans to learn drifting properly in the next coming weeks, planning to bring your Skyline back before your older brother notices that it’s missing. As the clock struck midnight, you and Junho stood in the corridor of his house. It had been a night filled with unexpected turns, and you couldn't shake off the lingering tension from Seonghwa's flirtatious jokes earlier on.
"Goodnight, Junho. Thanks for having me," you said, your exhaustion mingling with a sense of gratitude.
"Anytime, Y/n. Sleep well," your best friend replied, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading to his room.
As you turned to head towards your room, Seonghwa emerged from the shadows with an air of casual charm. "Leaving so soon, love?" he teased, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
You rolled your eyes, unamused by his persistent flirtations. "I've had enough annoyance for one night."
Seonghwa's gaze followed her, and just as she reached her room, he called out, "Wait, Y/n."
Turning back, you raised an eyebrow, curious about what he might have to say.
He stepped closer, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I couldn't help but notice you don't have a car anymore. How about you take my spare Honda S2000 for a spin? You know, to practice your drifting skills."
You eyed him skeptically, suspecting an ulterior motive. "And why would you offer me your car?"
Seonghwa's expression softened, and he offered a genuine smile. "Call it a gesture of goodwill. Besides, it's a shame to let a talented racer like you be without a vehicle, even if you’re a horrible drifter. Consider it as a collateral so you don't run away from the next race"
You scoffed and looked at him with annoyance and hesitation, contemplating his offer. The sincerity in his eyes clashed with your preconceived notions of Seonghwa as a cunning figure. Eventually, you nodded, "Fine, but this doesn't change anything between us."
Seonghwa chuckled, "Of course not, princess. Just enjoy the ride."
As you entered her room, you couldn't shake off the feeling that beneath Seonghwa's casual exterior, there might be more to his actions than met the eye. Shaking off the feeling you just closed her eyes, reminiscing the eventful day, and drifted off to sleep.
-
A few days later, you found yourself behind the wheel of Seonghwa's spare Honda S2000. The car, parked in front of Junho's house, was a stark reminder of Seonghwa's unexpected generosity. As you inspected the vehicle, Seonghwa materialized from the house with a nonchalant air.
"Enjoying the new ride?" he inquired, his tone easygoing.
Still wary of Seonghwa's motives, you nodded cautiously.
"It's decent. Thanks for letting me use it."
Seonghwa grinned, and then, in a whisper that seemed almost intentional, he said, "You know, if you're looking for a more private space to practice, my race arena is always available. No prying eyes, just you and the asphalt."
You furrowed your brow, the offer sounding peculiar coming from someone entrenched in the criminal underworld.
"Your race arena? Why would you let me use it?"
Seonghwa leaned in, his gaze appearing sincere. "Consider it a favor. I've seen your determination, and I figured you might want a space to work on your technique without any distractions."
Despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the appeal of a secluded space for practice.
"And what's the catch? Why would you be so generous?"
Seonghwa's smile remained, and he shrugged nonchalantly. "No catch, princess. Just thought you could use a place to let loose. Besides, it's not like I use it all the time."
As you climbed into the Honda S2000, you mulled over Seonghwa's unexpected offer. The lingering suspicion remained, but there was an unintentional sincerity in his words that left you contemplating the complexities beneath his seemingly hardened exterior,but smiled towards yourself softly unknowingly. Something was definitely wrong with you right now. You smacked your face lightly and went back to normal.
The abandoned industrial area, once a witness to your defeat, transformed into your training ground. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an ethereal glow on the pavement below. You, clad in your signature pink miniskirt and knee-high boots, stood beside the hot pink Honda car, ready to conquer the art of drifting.
Under the dim glow of streetlights, you practiced the art of controlled slides and hairpin turns. The whirr of the engine echoed through the deserted alleys as the car glided seamlessly, tires gripping the asphalt with precision. It was a dance between machine and driver, a delicate balance that required finesse and control.
As the nights wore on, your dedication intensified. The sought solace in the rhythmic hum of the engine, losing yourself in the adrenaline-fueled pursuit of perfection. The once-unfamiliar world of drift racing became a canvas for your determination, and the twists and turns of the industrial terrain became the strokes of your evolving skill.
But the ghost of Seonghwa lingered in the periphery. His presence, though not physically there, cast a shadow over the training sessions. The memory of his smirk at the previous meet fueled your desire to not only reclaim her car but to prove a point. You still couldn't shake off the thought that Seonghwa's interest in you extended beyond the race itself.
One evening, as you pushed the limits, executing flawless drifts with newfound confidence, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.
Seonghwa leaned against a nearby wall, a cigarette dangling between his lips. His piercing gaze followed your every move, a silent acknowledgment of your progress.
"You're getting better," he remarked, the smoke curling around him like a shroud. "But drifting is more than just skill; it's about instinct, about feeling the rhythm of the road beneath you."
His unexpected advice caught you off guard, and for a moment, the rivalry between you both seemed to blur. However, you quickly refocused, dismissing his words as an attempt to distract you.
The weeks of unwavering dedication shaped you into a skilled drifter. As the eve of the impending drift meet approached, the industrial landscape became a silent spectator to the last-minute preparations. The skyline, once a painful reminder of defeat, now stood as a symbol of your unyielding determination.
In the ensuing weeks, a curious development took place. Seonghwa found himself frequently drawn to the industrial area where you tirelessly practiced your drifting skills. The initial interest to monitor your progress gradually evolved into something more. He observed the precision in your movements, the calculated control you exerted over the car, and an undeniable passion that fueled your relentless pursuit of perfection.
As Seonghwa became a silent spectator to her nightly sessions, an unspoken understanding seemed to develop between them. The once palpable hostility began to waver, replaced by a subtle acknowledgment of each other's presence. It was as if the shared pursuit of a common goal had forged an unexpected connection.
Their interactions transformed from terse exchanges to casual conversations. Seonghwa, still clad in his enigmatic aura, would offer occasional insights into drifting techniques, his comments a blend of genuine advice and playfulness. Y/n, against her initial resistance, found herself occasionally reciprocating with a chuckle or a retort.
The hate that had once burned fervently in Y/n's heart now flickered, giving way to a complex mixture of emotions. Seonghwa's unexpected interest in her progress, coupled with his occasional words of encouragement, created a bridge that spanned the gap between rivals. The lines between animosity and camaraderie blurred, leaving behind an unspoken connection that both refused to fully acknowledge.
As the nights passed, Y/n couldn't deny the subtle shift in dynamics. While the rivalry still lingered in the background, a begrudging respect seemed to emerge. It was a dance between adversaries on the precipice of something more, each move a careful balance between competition and an underlying camaraderie that neither was willing to fully embrace.
-
It was finally the day of the meet.
The air crackled with anticipation as you stood on the starting line, your heart pounding in rhythm with the distant hum of engines. The neon-lit track awaited the culmination of your efforts, a stage for the next chapter in the tumultuous dance between rivals turned reluctant allies.
The night was thick with tension as you positioned yourself on the starting line, ready to prove yourself in the upcoming drift race. The Honda S2000 roared her engines and the neon-lit atmosphere heightened the anticipation. However, before the race could commence, The chaotic symphony of sirens filled the air, signaling the impending arrival of the police. You left the car there in a hurry and ran to another corner noticing seonghwa running into a dark alley. In the urgency of the moment, You found yourself following Seonghwa who ran through the labyrinth of dark alleys signalling his guards to hide at the places they must have decided some day,
Seonghwa, sensing a presence behind him, swiftly pulled out his gun, ready to face any potential threat. Meeting Y/n's eyes in the dimly lit alley, he let out a soft smile that was barely visible.
"You never struck me as someone who would follow me into the shadows," Seonghwa remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.
Catching your breath, you shot him a skeptical look. "This doesn't mean I trust you," you retorted, your gaze unwavering.
A shared pause lingered between them, the silence punctuated only by the distant echoes of the ongoing pursuit. Seonghwa took a step closer, the air charged with a peculiar tension that defied the constraints of their rivalry.
"You might not trust me," Seonghwa began, his voice low and measured, "but in moments like these, trust becomes a luxury we can't afford to ignore." His eyes held a sincerity that momentarily eclipsed the calculated edge he usually wore.
Y/n felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere, an acknowledgment that beneath the surface-level enmity, there were complexities to their dynamic. The unspoken connection manifested in the way their eyes locked, and a subtle understanding passed between them.
Seonghwa, seemingly guided by an instinct neither could deny, gently reached out to cup Y/n's face. The touch was unexpectedly tender, a contrast to the adrenaline-fueled escape. Their proximity became a silent acknowledgment of the nuances that defined their relationship.
"You might not have seen this coming," Seonghwa admitted, a subtle smirk gracing his lips, "but there's something undeniable lingering between us,or maybe it is just in my heart"
As the tension hung in the air, you felt a conflicting mix of emotions. The sudden closeness, the vulnerability in Seonghwa's demeanor, and the charged atmosphere became the backdrop to a moment that felt both unexpected and inevitable.
He took out a cigarette from his pocket lighting it up, taking a big puff "you smoke?" He asked and you nodded
"i do, just not today" you said and he sighed at you , taking a really big puff and turning the burnt end towards himself, leaning towards you and enticingly blew it on your face, you looked at him with a wide mouth as he just looked to the side, throwing away the wet end of the cigarette.
He looked up at you,pupils dilated.
As their eyes met in a quiet surrender to the unspoken connection, their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn't impulsive; it was a culmination of shared danger, hidden complexities, and a tentative exploration of something that defied the constraints of their roles as rivals. It seemed sudden if a bystander was there, but to the two souls it felt perfect
He pulled back from the kiss, his hand stroking the side of your cheek while the other still grasped the gun in his hands His gaze locked onto yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slowly traced the edge of your jawline with his gun, the love radiating through every stroke. Gliding the gun down your neck towards your chest softly as he still connected his forehead with yours, cupping the side of your face with the other hand.
Seonghwa leaned towards her again, his lips just ghosting above the outline of her lips, stroking her back tenderly
"I want to kiss you again" He muttered against her lips, the vibrations reaching to her soul as she swallowed hard, physically dizzy to even form proper sentences.
"Do i make you nervous doll?" He asked with that 'annoying' grin on his face yet again as you looked up to him, remembering why you were here in the first place, right it was to show him you're capable of proving him wrong.
"You don't," You said with a newly found courage your fingers trailed down along the buttons of his shirt, feeling their coldness against your skin.
Seonghwa leans his hips a bit closer toward you barely keeping any distance as he holds your waist pushing you towards the wall and pinning your hands to the sides
"Why not?" He asked and nuzzled against your neck, kissing against your skin as he brought his hand up holding your neck softly.
You can feel him growing hard in his pants against your leg and your hand travels downward, grazing across the fabric. Seonghwa sharply inhales, eyes closing for a moment as you rub his cock through his pants.
"Because I think we both want the same thing," You said and he groaned against your skin pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. Looked up as his lips met yours again, kissing a bit more roughly than before, his tongue in your mouth while his hands slide down to grip your ass. He guides your hips down on his clothed erection for some friction, fueled by your soft cries of approval. He sits back for a moment just to admire your facial features, his eyes catching the aroused and flustered look on your face before he goes back in for more.
"Never knew you could become even prettier," He said as his hands traveled towards your ass yet again picking you up softly, not breaking eye contact for even a second. You wrap your legs around his waist leaning forward to kiss him again. He walks towards who knows where and walks into a deeper alley laying you on top of a cold hardcover. Pulling back from the kiss he takes your knee-high boots off, pulling you closer to himself.
"Im gonna fuck you on top of your car princess" He whispers against your legs as you look around noticing that it was in fact your beloved Nissan skyline
"Hwa" You softly whine as his hands reach towards your miniskirt pulling it off you and leaving you only in your panties.
He comes near you and leaves a soft peck by lips
"Do i have your permission to proceed doll?" He asked and you nodded, pulling him closer to you by his tie, urging him to take of his shirt as well.
"Use your mouth baby" He said smirking at your completely fucked out state
"Take it off hwa" You pleaded,the last 2 buttons seemed to be impossible to open.
"I want to fuck you stupid so bad, Princess, reminding you that your challenge against me is nothing" He whispered
He pulls back from you before kneeling at the edge in front of where you’re sitting. You let out a shocked yelp when he grabs your bare legs and yanks you toward him. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you like he’s going to devour you.
The heat coming from his hands and just having him nestled between your legs makes your cunt throb.
“H-Hwa.” You whimper desperately sounding completely needy.
"Tell me how you just lost the deal against me twice princess," He said with amusement dripping in his voice, caressing your thighs open softly.
"I didn't lose the second deal yet" You huff out as he looks up at you with a grin and sinks to his knees. He trails his warm hand up your soft thighs and grips the top of your underwear, Unraveling it with agonizing slowness, relishing in the eventual satisfaction of toying with your anticipation.
He groans softly against your cunt, leaving hot open kisses towards your inner thighs.
His groan makes you clench around nothing. Before you can say anything, Seonghwa yanks you forward and smashes his face into your wet cunt. Any and all coherent thoughts are quickly ejected from your mind. You let out a small moan when you feel his tongue split through your folds, tasting you for the first time.
"Fuck" He moans on your wet folds "You feel so good against my tongue baby"
You toss your head back with a moan. All you can feel is his tongue plunging deep inside you. Every time his nose bumps against your throbbing clit, it sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine.
“S-Shit, Hwa.” You whimper, hands falling on his messy hair.
You can feel his lips shift towards a small smirk in your cunt when you start to tug on his hair. Your cries of pleasure sound like music to his ears, and it makes him more determined to have you begging and crying for his cock. Shifting his tongue towards your clit as he enters two fingers softly inside your cunt with no warning sending your brain into a short circuit and waves of pleasure all over your body.
The sight of your face twisting in pleasure is a sight he’ll never forget.
"p-please, keep doing this hwa" You gasp out grinding your pussy into his face as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue and sleek fingers.
Nearing your orgasm you hold his hair tighter ready to let out the most guttural moans you ever would've, when he suddenly unlatches himself, looking up to see your sinfully fucked out face, staring at him with the most killer annoyed eyes he has ever seen of you.
He innocently smiles at you, pulling you up by the waist and kissing you roughly, you wrap your legs around his waist, slowly grinding your pussy on his clothed cock, his hand dropping down towards your ass slowly guiding you to grind on him better. One hand of his reaches towards your short crop top, tearing it apart using his other hand and quickly unclasping your bra
"Do you still not accept that you lost 2 deals against me, princess?"
You shake your head and give him a bored smile.
Seonghwa looked at you with unashamed lust in his expression, hand now trailing the soft flesh of your boobs, Leaning in, you let your lips fall to his pretty neck. His breathing became heavier as you suckled on the skin, he cupped your breasts together, pressing open-mouthed kisses onto your skin. With no more support, you wrapped your legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, simultaneously pushing your breasts closer together toward his mouth. Groaning, Seonghwa nipped you lightly, taking pleasure in the way you whined quietly.
"You like that, baby?"
You nodded, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back slightly. Eventually, he moved his focus to one of your breasts, tongue teasing the nipple as his hand groped the other.
When he pulled away and focused his mouth on your other breast, you couldn't help but wrap an arm around his head, pushing him closer.
You couldn't help but begin to grind down in desperation, your lower half craving stimulation since the moment his tongue left your clit. Seonghwa groaned onto your skin, and the vibration shot up your spine until your brain was completely intoxicated, before you could get any more pleasure from your nipples he pulled back as you whined slowly
"H-hwa why-?" You asked, your voice too shaky to form proper sentences
"Fuck, I don't think I'll ever get enough of eating your pussy", he murmurs, sinking to his knees yet again to take your throbbing cunt in his mouth
Your breathing became irregular, body shaking and arching off the car hood, so fucking turned on, so fucking close.
His mouth moves around your clit, gently suckling and that's all it takes, to near your orgasm yet again.
He pulls back again when he feels you pulsing around his tongue, as a long whimper of pain leaves your lips, A carnal desire takes over Seonghwa when he hears your needy cry.
"I hate you park seonghwa" You whine out as the man simply smirks,taking off his boxers as he helps your fucked out body get off the hood of the car
"Can you suck my dick like a good girl please, princess?" He seductively whispers.
All the past anger of him edging you disappears as you sank to your knees leaning forward to take the tip of his dick in your mouth, eyes rolling back and thighs clenching.
"Fuck" He groaned out holding your hair tightly, you moaned into his dick, loving how he pulled your hair.  Your tongue was tracing his cock from the base to the tip whilst you had one of your hands holding the base gently whilst simultaneously cupping one of his balls, the other free hand you used to “anchor” yourself on his thigh, massaging the flesh gently. Seonghwa nearly bucked his hips and let his eyes roll back,a heavenly moan leaving his mouth as the sensation on your cunt intensified. The man's moans were downright pornographic,his moans turned you on more than anything. Seonghwa let out a guttural groan, his head falling forward as you moaned into his dick. His dick feeling heavy on your tongue and stretching your corners out,gagging you occasionally.
"What are you thinking hwa?" You mumble pulling back a bit as you notice his concentrated stare
"whether to cum on your face or your tits" He whimpered out, fucking whimpered it out. Seonghwa had his head thrown back in pleasure as he let out moan after moan. The sounds he made were melodious to your ears, it pumped your ego as you know that you were doing a really good job. You began moaning into his dick, the vibration it produced added even more pleasure for Seonghwa. His eyes opened when he felt like he was seconds away from cumming. Nearing his height,he held your face in its place to thrust into your mouth instead of having you bob your head up and down.
"Look at me while you take my dick in your mouth princess" He moaned out,as you looked up at him with glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips that has his cock slipping in and out of it. With the aid of how you looked, Seonghwa let out a grunt and a last thrust of his hips before cumming hard, filling the cavern of your mouth with his seed. The warm sensation made you close your eyes and moan softly, looking absolutely in bliss,he pulled out of your mouth spreading the warm liquid all over your face.
"Hwa, fuck me please" You whimper as he picks up your body, opens the door of your car, and lays you on the backseat
"You should accept that you lost against me by now baby or the consequences won't do you any good," He said towards your ear, his whole body on top of you as you felt the bulge of his dick poke your stomach
"I'm not giving up so quick Seonghwa," You say and he presses his oozing tip against your entrance without any prep. A needy, pathetic moan stumbles out of you as he fingers your clit from above.
"I'm going to edge you till Sunday if you don't fucking agree that you pathetically lost the deal from me twice," He says and grips your neck, only tight enough to choke you but lose enough to allow you to breath
You exhale sharply as the painful feeling of your orgasm being incomplete reaches your soul and you nod toward him
"I'm just a pathetic loser, Hwa. I've lost to you in that deal twice, and it seems like I can never come out on top," you moan out, your voice laced with a sultry undertone.
"Fuck, you brat, You don't know how long I wanted this" He groans bucking his dick inside your cunt harshly, giving you no time to adjust at all
"Hwa-p-please" You shudder against him, his moans making you see stars
"Hearing you scream my name as you take my cock deep inside you. Having you drunk up my cock just like you're doing now. Fuck, thought about it all the time"
You could only let out a pathetic whine as the man just continued to fuck you
Seonghwa can’t take his eyes off your pretty little pussy and how it swallows his cock so perfectly. His heavy balls are being stained with your arousal as they slap against your clit. He becomes more esurient with every rough thrust.
“You’re already soaking my cock, baby. I fucking knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough.” He grunts as he grabs your hips, quickly growing obsessed with how you feel around him.
His cock is stretching you out so good that you can’t think straight.
“So fucking good.” You mewl as you deepen your arch so he can fuck you deeper.
"God, the second I saw you standing in that short mini dress in front of the whole stadium bending down to check the tires of your Skyline that day, I just wanted to throw you on the nearest surface and fuck the life from you"
One of Seonghwa’s hands trails down your body to squeeze your ass while the other goes around your waist to rub your sensitive clit. He pounds into you harder, loving the cries and whimpers you’re letting out every time he fucks his cock into your cunt. You’re throwing yourself back on him to meet his thrusts, loving how his big cock splits you open with every snap of his hips.
“Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy so only I fit.” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass harshly.
"im going to fucking cum inside your cunt", he grunts, slamming repeatedly right into my spot, "You want that, don't you? I can feel your cunt get tighter and tighter"
"Yes", you cry, holding onto his arms as tight as you can
"Yes what?"
"Want it", you moan, tears springing to your eyes from the bliss
"Tell me what you want. Say it", he demands
You just whimper as his thrusts become harsher, bucking deeper and deeper inside, you swear you could feel him in your lower stomach if you just kept your hand there.
"Want me to fuck baby in you huh? is that what you want?"
You hungrily let out a whine of approval as he sped up fucking you inside your own Nissan Skyline which you so desperately wanted back.
Thinking back, this car is in fact the reason you have this man balls deep in you, fucking you till Saturn, till the stars in your head faint by
His hips start to snap with a rough precision you claimed he wasn’t capable of, and you wonder how longer it’ll take him to realize that he already proved you wrong.
Seonghwa feels your cunt start to tighten around his cock like it doesn’t want to let go. With the way you’re starting to tremble, he can tell you’re close to falling apart.
"H-hwa please quicker" You whimper,your voice barely audible. The look on your face makes his cock twitch painfully inside you. You look absolutely fucked out, and to think he hasn’t even made you come yet. Seonghwa licks his lips and teases your soaking entrance with his leaking tip. His smirk is deviant, but so hot that all you can do is buck your hips desperately.
"Cum for me good girl" He purred softly as you held the man's thighs, begging him to go faster and break you down.
You scream his name loudly as the mind-shattering orgasm hits you like a fucking truck running at 80 km/ph , ecstasy encircling your whole body. But he doesn't stop.
You heard him moaning loudly about how amazing it felt but all you can do is ride the pleasure out on his cock
The erotic sight of your fucked up red cheeks and glossed-out swollen lips drives him to start fucking into you again. He lets out a deep groan when he sees your cream coat his entire length as you squeeze him tighter than anyone ever has.
Pleasure consumes you and licks up your entire body as Seonghwa pounds his cock into your hot cunt. Your moans turn into loud cries that mix into the lewd squelching coming from where you two are connected when he presses your legs to your chest. The new position allows him to fuck into you deeper than before.
You keep your legs on his shoulders pushing him closer towards you.
"h-hwa f-fill me up please" You choked out, your mind still not wrapping around the fact of how the man hadn't cummed yet.
The moan Seonghwa lets out is downright pornographic. He feels himself going feral at the thought of breeding you.
“You want my cum, baby?” He coos sweetly, heavy balls slapping against your ass in sync with your overstimulated moans.
It’s embarrassing how fast you nod, back arching as you feel a wave of pleasure start to consume you. His cock is throbbing inside you, and all you can think about is milking him for all that he’s worth. “Want it so bad!”
“Fuck.” Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath. “My doll is so tight for me”
Before he could cum you pushed his chest slightly taking your legs off his shoulder and pushing him towards the headrest, sitting on his lap instead.
"You've fucked me enough love,im gonna ride you"
He just threw his head back squeezing the bottom of your ass as you started grinding on him
"So pretty...bouncing on my cock, fuck" He whimpers yet again closing his eyes and gripping your waist tightly.
You let out a small gasp as he slowly started to thrust upwards into you.
Your cunt is gripping his cock so tightly that it doesn’t take long for him to release his thick load inside you. Your movements grow sloppy as he starts to fill you with ropes of cum. Your soppy cunt is overflowing with so much of his seed that it leaks down to the seat of your car—a filthy sight Seonghwa will never forget.
"Fuck that's it, baby, make a mess all over your car"
You’re both panting as he slowly lets go of your waist. Seonghwa watches you carefully but doesn’t make a move to pull out of you. He wants to keep you plugged and full of his cum, He looked at you with eyes that went beyond lust and arousal, the type of look to make you blush and make your heart pound deeply in your chest, even in this lustful heat-worthy moment.
Seonghwa held your head softly and pulled you towards his chest,patting your head like you were his good little girl.
"Wait did you just say my car?"
"Congratulations princess, the skyline is yours again"
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teejaywyatt1 · 2 months ago
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I’m not gonna lie, I’ve kinda been going through it these past few months but I’m determined to get these fics written for y’all. 😩🫡
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riality-check · 2 years ago
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Skylines, Cigarettes, and Second Chances
Fourth (and final!!) chapter: See Through
“You’ve reached Dustin Henderson,” the voice over the phone says. “Right now I’m on spring break, enjoying sunny, sunny Boca Raton. Leave me a message, and I’ll be sure to call you back on the-”
Eddie hangs up the payphone, trying not to slam it down onto the receiver. He’s recognizable, both from the fame and with the added bonus of the scar on his face, and he really can’t deal with fans coming up to him right now.
No one is at their best in the airport.
He steps away, dragging his suitcase behind him, and sits in a chair at his gate. He puts his guitar at his feet with his suitcase, careful not to jostle it. He tries to breathe, tries to focus, tries to think of anyone else who can pick him up from the airport in Chicago and drive him to Hawkins.
Stupid Henderson and his stupid spring break. Eddie really hopes he’s having the time of his life, he really does, it’s the kid’s senior year of college, but, more than that, he really hates him right now.
It’s unfair. He really can’t hate him. It’s not like Dustin knows that Eddie is heading back. It’s not like anyone knows that he’s taking a red-eye flight back to Chicago.
But it’s also not like there’s anyone else who can pick him up.
Eddie holds his head in his hands and tries to breathe. The airport coffee tasted like rust, but it woke him up enough to power through a two-hour flight at one AM. He bounces his leg to work out some nervous energy and wracks his brain for literally anyone else who can pick him up in Chicago.
Anything to keep from thinking about Wayne right now. He’s fine, he said he was, and he doesn’t lie, but Eddie thinks he deserves to be a mess about it right now.
He goes through the list of people he knows who have cars in Chicago, who wouldn’t mind taking him back to Hawkins, and finds that there is one.
No.
Absolutely not.
There’s no way. He doesn’t even know if he still lives there. And there’s absolutely no way Steve will do him any sort of favor. Eddie doesn’t even deserve to ask, and he really, really doesn’t want to.
(But it’s worth a shot. Anything helps in an airport terminal at one in the morning.)
He should have taken his manager up on the offer to have a car waiting for him at the airport, but Eddie is stupid and stubborn and still hates the idea of people waiting on him, even after all these years.
By the time he gets the courage to stand back up and take a singular step toward the payphone, his flight is boarding. He casts one last look at the payphone, shakes his head, and joins the crowd of other people desperate enough to fly at this hour.
The girl across the aisle, once they’re boarded, clearly recognizes him. But she’s in Rugrats pajama pants, and Eddie hasn’t washed his hair in three days. She gives him a nod instead of asking for a photo, and Eddie thinks that maybe some things still can work out.
read the rest on ao3!
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jakekazansky · 18 days ago
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Here I am writing another fic my juvenile delinquent Jake au. I was honestly planning on writing a whole multi chapter fic for this au. But alas my way of writing fics which all take place in the same au but never are actually written in a linear fashion is happening again.
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adelfie · 8 months ago
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@eggmacguffin
vibrating out of excitement to share this niche detail omg yes the SKYLINE!!! it's actually based off of the Charlotte NC skyline in honor of the chapter (even though they were probably much farther away from Charlotte at that point in the fic to see the skyline anymore lol)
there's a building from the ref pic I used that was going under construction, I think, and the cranes made it look like Batman so… I definitely used some creative license there :D
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Comic-style art I made inspired by 'A Meditation On Railroading' by @eggmacguffin - from when Jason finds Tim on the train 💖
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mossistyping · 5 months ago
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The Horrors (asking my husband if he can be my test subject for a fic related thing)
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pepper-steam-milkshake · 5 months ago
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ME WHEN SKYLINE PIGEON UPDATE RRASGRHRHEHAGHRHEHHE
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tsukimirecs · 5 months ago
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megumi fushiguro // fic recommendations
note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works
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once bitten, twice shy
lost and found
your type?
dark red
pick you up, keep you close
i really (x6) like you
bunny kisses
the flower and the bee
(divine) dog cuddles
off limits
cockblocked by the squad
lover boy.
staring problem
pomegranate problem
conveniently yours
better late than never
you're the only one that's holding me down
takes one to know one
it's fenty
whatever this is
the birthday boy
with you, my fears disappear
hands
diamonds on the skyline
just feel it
laser focus
all my ghosts
making the last sacrifice
see you around
ducky slippers
therefore, i am
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pussymasterdooku · 11 months ago
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i love you absolute quiet room at the library……
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riality-check · 2 years ago
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"Skylines" Chapter 3: I Love This Part
There are six different kinds of skylines, Eddie has realized. There’s ocean, mountain, forest, field, city, and desert. Anything else is a combination of the base six.
Sitting on top of the tour bus outside Phoenix, he sees desert. He could, if pressed, consider it a combination between city and desert, but Phoenix doesn’t really feel like a city. Few places do, after New York.
That’s a startling thought to have. Just five years ago, Indy was the biggest place Eddie had ever been. Then Chicago, which he resolutely doesn’t want to think about. Now, he’s comparing all the major cities in the country.
The little kid from West Virginia, before his parents started taking him across town and state lines more often than he changed grades in school, wouldn’t believe the fact that he’d been to a city, let alone most of the big ones in the country. Then again, that little kid wouldn’t believe that he lived with Wayne, that he could get out of small towns for good, that he could be happy.
Well, Eddie is still working on that last one. 
But it’s getting better. That first song, their breakout song, the song he wrote the night he walked out of the apartment in Chicago, is the song the crowd screams with him. Eddie smiles between the lines and encourages the crowd to join him, feeding off their energy and feeding back to them.
That song feels like a “fuck you” in the most joyful way possible, and after every concert, Eddie’s cheeks hurt from grinning the whole way through it.
So, that song is a start.
(Eddie quit smoking when they went on tour. He ran out of cigarettes and just… never got another pack. With their packed schedule and rising fame, it was really hard to find the time to go out and get them himself, and he never feels right asking someone else to do it.That, and he needs his voice if he wants to keep telling Steve “fuck you” in his own musical way.)
Read the rest on ao3!
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soukokumychildren · 5 months ago
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yyyyEsyeeysyeysyesyesyyes Fuck I loved it sooo much. Hopefully you're doing well, by the way. Get rest if you need it. For now, however.. (spoils v )
Much less depressing than the first chapter (as well as I recall) but I loved the situation, I loved how you described the panic attacks, I adore how Chuuya was frantic over Dazai's life (I'm a sucker for that sort of thing). The descriptions were comforting, and nonetheless very easy to understand. Slowly but surely I get better at grammar because of you XD I find I particularly read your fanfictions in a certain settlement in a different state (because I currently alternate between several states to meet family), and I always happen to catch you posting when I'm in this state. Which shouldn't mean much at all, obviously, but it's me rambling at this point. It gets the feeling going, I guess. Makes me happy. Overall, you get the idea. Loved your fic to the ends of the earth, as per usual--especially to the mention of a cottage home in the woods. HELLL yeah. Other than the spider. Fuck the spider. I tried not to laugh though.
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Skyline Pigeon chapter 2 is posted! :D
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dollerinna · 7 months ago
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I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .
( black noir x fem supe!reader )
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summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)
warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’
first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!
The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.
Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.
A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.
On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.
It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.
Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.
Ugh, talk about creepy.
A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.
Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.
But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.
─────────────────
“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”
It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.
An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.
Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.
And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.
Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.
He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.
After all, good girls should never cuss.
Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.
He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.
Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?
Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.
Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.
Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)
Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.
Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.
With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.
He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.
“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.
Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.
Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.
Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.
Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.
He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.
The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.
However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.
─────────────────
Meanwhile…
“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.
Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.
“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.
As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.
“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.
True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.
Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.
Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.
Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.
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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3
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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭
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alygator77 · 3 months ago
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❥ masked affairs—sold to desire
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℘pairing. au dom rich! satoru x fem! reader
℘summary. it's a lavish charity masquerade, and you find yourself under satoru gojo’s spell once again. tonight, he’s playing a dangerous game—a discreet, remote-controlled toy designed to tease and torment you—hula beads. as the night unfolds, you walk the fine line between obedience and defiance, but testing him could be your undoing—satoru is unforgiving, and he holds the key to your pleasure.
℘tags/warnings. nsfw 18+, smut, fluff, established relationship, billionaire satoru, reader is rich too, satoru controls/dominates you with a sex toy during a charity auction, jealous/possessive satoru, public foreplay, public sex, lots of worship and praise, penetration, creampie.
℘wc. 15.1k
℘a/n. happy spooky season ya'll 👻 this oneshot is heavily inspired by fifty shades darker. check out the mood board here. the song for this fic is 'infinity' by james young, listen here. enjoy 💕
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In a room full of masks, you’ve perfected the art of wearing one—long before you ever stepped into Satoru Gojo’s world.
The lace mask lying on your vanity is almost like a second skin to you now. After all, you’ve spent years working in your profession, hiding behind smiles and carefully measured words. It’s a flawless poise required of someone in your line of work—the PR world demanded it—dealing with the rich and powerful, controlling the narrative, making sure their perfect, untouchable image remains intact.
A skill you’ve long since mastered.
And as the soft hum of the city buzzes outside your penthouse window, with the glow of the skyline filtering through the room—it serves as a quiet reminder of how far you’ve come, and where you are now.
Standing at the top.
But the weight of that truth has never really faded, has it? You—entrenched in this world—one that always demands more than it gives.
A faint smile tugs at your lips as you lift the mask from the vanity, turning it over between your fingers. Ironic, really, that someone who has built a career on managing the chaos of others, controlling every detail, would find herself unraveling in ways she hadn’t expected.
Unraveled by him.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the quiet creak of the door, and you glance up at the mirror just in time to see him lean against the doorframe.
Satoru Gojo.
It had been two years since that fateful night—the night you met him at the very same event you are both to attend, yet again. But when he had first walked into that ballroom two years ago, confident and untouchable, you hadn’t been impressed… at first—and why would you be? Men like him, with their money and their charm, were a dime a dozen in your world. You knew exactly how to handle them.
But not Satoru Gojo.
And tonight, he looked every bit his part—a presence so magnetic, so effortless—dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, tailored perfectly to his tall, athletic frame. His white hair falling in its usual tousled disarray, yet somehow, even that looks intentional—perfectly imperfect, just like him.
Ah, but it’s his eyes—those striking, icy blue eyes—that always manage to captivate you immediately. And this time, as his gaze sweeps over you slowly, you catch sight of the predatory glimmer underneath, lingering on every curve as he drinks in the sight of you.
There is a weight to his gaze, and oh, you revel in it. That’s the thing—you know exactly how to unravel him, just as easily as he can unravel you.
Taking your time, you set the lace mask down carefully—knowing full well that his eyes haven’t left you for a second, and you smooth your gown, feeling the delicate, luxurious material slide under your fingers.
The dress was a statement—sophisticated with a touch of allure. The deep sapphire-blue fabric, silky and shimmering in the dim light, hugs your curves with a neckline plunging just low enough to tease. It features a high slit running up one leg, adding a sensual edge but still maintaining an air of elegance.
And you know—oh, you know—that every detail of it is driving him crazy.
His breath catches as he finally speaks, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Wow. You’re going to make it impossible for anyone else to concentrate tonight.”
You smirk, turning just enough to catch his eyes fully.
“Good. I didn’t plan on letting anyone else have your attention tonight.”
“Mmm, funny,” he muses, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate strides.
His hands slowly slide down your arms—a touch so feather-light, it sends a shiver of anticipation through you as he leans in, his breath is warm against your ear. “Especially considering it’s been two years since you walked into that gala and made me work for your attention.”
“Work?” you chuckle softly and tilt your head slightly. “I think you enjoyed the chase more than you’re willing to admit.”
Pulling himself closer to you—you feel his lips brush softly against your neck, underlined with a low growl.
“Oh, I enjoyed it,” his voice deepens with each word. “But catching you...” he places a lingering kiss just beneath your ear. “That was my real reward.”
You inhale as his warm breath fans your skin, and you desperately try not to give away just how much your body is already responding to him.
Why? Because you love making him chase you—even to this day.
“Is that so?” you challenge.
“Mhm,” he hums.
Exhaling again, you feel his hands slide lower, resting just above the curve of your hips as his lips trail down the side of your neck, placing slow, deliberate kisses.
“You still seem a little worked up for someone who’s already caught me.” You keep your voice measured—your growing desire masked underneath a teasing edge.
He chuckles darkly.
“Can you blame me?”
Before you can respond, his words are punctuated with a slow, deliberate press of his hips, and you gasp softly as you feel the unmistakable erection pressing into your backside. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan as the sensation sends a rush of heat straight to your core.
“You feel that, don’t you?” rolling his hips, he sounds so desperate, and it’s impossible to ignore. “That’s what you do to me.”
“You’re awfully needy tonight,” you whisper, breathily.
He drops his head, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder—trailing up to the shell of your ear where you are met with a deep chuckle.
“Needy?” a shiver rakes down your spine as his voice dips lower—darker, more dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart… you haven’t seen needy yet.”
His hand slides from your waist with an agonizing slowness until it rests on the curve of your hip, and you feel his fingers trace the edge of your dress—teasingly close to the slit exposing your thigh—a touch so light is makes you shiver with anticipation.
“I’ve got something for you,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze in the vanity mirror.
Your eyes widen as you feel something cool and smooth brush against your bare thigh—small, sleek, unmistakable.
Hula beads.
Well, fuck—what a menace. With him holding the remote, you know he’ll have full control over your pleasure—completely discreet and utterly torturous.
“Just a little gift to keep things… exciting,” he grins. “I know these events can be so… mundane for you.”
Your mouth goes dry as you hold his gaze, already sensing where this was going.
“Satoru—”
“Two years,” he interrupts, dark and commanding now. “Two years since you walked into my life, and I decided I wasn’t going to let you go.” His eyes lock onto yours in the mirror, and for a moment, all you can do is stare back at his reflection, captivated by his intensity.
Slowly, his expression softens—his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.
“Tonight’s special, love,” he says affectionately. Leaning in closer, his lips brush against your ear, and before you can react, he captures your earlobe gently between his teeth. “I want you to feel that baby.”
A gasp escapes your lips. He knows how to get under your skin—how to make every inch of you burn with need. His dominance, wrapped in tenderness—the perfect combination that drives you wild.
“I want you to wear these for me tonight.”
The heat between your thighs intensifies at his words. Swallowing hard, you nod slowly. Finally managing to speak, barely a whisper.
“Okay.”
Satoru’s smirk deepens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as his grip on your waist tightens.
“Good. Now bend over the dresser.”
The command in his voice is unmistakable, and it sends a thrill straight to your core, making your legs tremble slightly as you obey. Slowly, you lean forward, your palms resting on the cool surface of the dresser.
“So obedient,” his hands glide up your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress around your waist. “Such a good girl for me.”
His praise makes your breath hitch, and you bite your lip as his hands move lower, spreading your thighs slightly—positioning you just the way he wants you.
Satoru’s fingers hook into the delicate fabric of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth, possessive motion. As you brace yourself against the dresser, his touch drifts lower, tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs before circling back up—brushing softly around the curve of your ass. But your body aches for more, and finally, your entrance welcomes the light, deliberate pressure of his digit.
It's not enough though.
Fucking hell. The anticipation is coiling tight in your stomach—you were already growing wet. He was always like this—making you wait, making you want him even more.
“Satoru,” you plea, barely above a whisper.
Pausing for a moment, he chuckles—then, he allows his fingers to brush over you again, this time with a little more pressure. He lets out a low hum of approval as he feels the undeniable heat between your legs.
“Well, look at that,” he murmurs, full of satisfaction as his fingers trace over your slickness. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”
Your body trembles and the heat intensifies further as he acknowledges your arousal.
“I was going to prep you,” his voice drips with amusement as he pushes deeper—two fingers curling in—just enough to make you gasp. “But… I don’t think that’s necessary anymore, do you?”
He pulls his fingers out—leaving you aching and breathless. You let out a disappointed whine, your body protesting against the sudden loss of contact.
You wanted him. Now.
The desire burning throughout you is almost unbearable, and he knows it—he was going to make this night torture for you.
He chuckles again—a hand sliding up your spine, tracing the curve of your back as he leans in closer to press a tender kiss on your shoulder.
“Needy girl. I’m not done with you yet. Stay still.”
Your breath hitches, and before you can respond, you feel something cool and smooth press against your entrance—the unmistakable touch of the Hula Beads.
“Let’s make this night memorable, hmm?”
He slowly, deliberately, pushes it inside you.
Unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips, he doesn’t stop until the beads are seated deep within you. The sensation is foreign, but undeniably arousing as your core clenches around them—a fullness that builds between your thighs, making your knees tremble.
You’re already aching for more, and he hasn’t even turned them on yet.
Satoru pauses for a moment, letting you breathe as he admires you—a small, knowing smirk tugging upon his lips. With careful precision, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and pulls them back up.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, smoothing your dress back down. “Now, stand up.”
Standing upright feels like a challenge—your legs tremble slightly as you push yourself up from the dresser, adjusting to the pressure inside you. He steps behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“You’re going to behave tonight, aren’t you?” His free hand reaches up, fingers gently brushing through your hair, caressing you as his eyes lock with yours in the mirror—a comfort and a reminder of the control he holds. “I’ll know exactly what’s going on inside you, and no one else will have a clue. But you’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”
“I’ll try…” you respond, breathy, but teasing—a spark of defiance in your tone, knowing full well what his reaction might be.
Satoru’s smirk deepens, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second.
“Try?” he repeats, full of amusement. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re already testing me, and we haven’t even left the room yet.”
His warning sends a shiver through you as you hold his gaze with a playful challenge—but then, he pecks your cheek and steps back. Straightening his jacket, he adjusts his bowtie as if nothing unusual has happened between you. It’s a movement so smooth and controlled, an epitome of poise—but the smirk on his lips and the glint in his eyes tell you that he’s anything but composed on the inside.
Oh, he’s playing with you… and he’s loving every second of it.
“Behave,” he casts you a sideways glance, accompanied with a wink, full of mischief. “Because I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight, princess.”
“Ah, there they are!” a familiar voice rings from behind, and you turn just in time to see Shoko approaching—her mischievous smile tugging at her lips, the lace mask adorning her face barely concealing that sparkle in her eyes. “y/n, Satoru—you two certainly know how to make an entrance.”
Before you can respond, she pulls you into a warm embrace—the scent of her perfume faint and comforting as you relax into her familiar touch.
“Gosh, it’s been too long,” she murmurs before stepping back to look you over with an approving nod. “You look incredible.”
Satoru jumps in—his arm slipping slightly around your waist, pulling you closer as he leans in with a low chuckle.
“Doesn’t she?” His voice is rich with affectionate pride, and his fingers lightly trace circles on your hip absentmindedly. “It’s almost unfair, isn’t it?”
The warmth of his words lingers in the air, and you can’t help but feel the flutter of butterflies in your chest as his gaze holds yours with an intensity.
Shoko’s dramatic groan breaks the spell. She rolls her eyes with exaggerated flair—crossing her arms over her chest as a playful grin tugs at her lips.
“Ugh, you two are too cute together—it’s almost sickening.”
You let out a soft laugh, glancing sideways at Satoru with a knowing smirk.
“Mmm... well, we try.”
Satoru’s smirk only widens as he holds you even tighter.
“Do we?” he teases. “I wasn’t aware we were being watched.”
Shoko rolls her eyes again, clearly unimpressed with his feigned ignorance.
“Oh, please,” she drawls sarcastically, lightly flicking a hand toward the both of you. “It’s hard not to notice when you two waltz in looking like you own the place.”
You can’t help but grin in response, shaking your head at her comment.
“Oh, come on. Says the woman who makes even casual elegance look like high fashion.”
Shoko’s smirk grows as she readjusts the shawl draped elegantly around her shoulders—her burgundy gown hugging her figure perfectly—each detail carefully chosen. She straightens up, standing a little taller as she takes in your compliment.
“Mmm…what can I say? Guess I’m a natural,” she adds with a playful wink.
Before anyone can add anything further, Suguru’s smooth voice cuts in from behind, joining the conversation as he steps up beside her.
“You’re always so modest, aren’t you, Shoko?”
His calm presence and easygoing smile blend seamlessly in the group—almost as natural as the way he drapes an arm casually over Shoko’s shoulders, while his other hand pushes back a few stray tousles of his long raven hair.
As his gaze shifts toward Satoru for a moment, a playful spark flickers in his eyes.
“But… let’s not downplay the real showstopper,” Suguru’s attention slides over to you, lingering with an appreciative glance. “y/n,” he murmurs, “you’re absolutely breathtaking tonight.”
You can’t help but blush lightly—feeling the warmth and sincerity of his compliment. You manage a soft smile.
“Aww, thanks… you’re too kind, Suguru.”
Suddenly the atmosphere shifts—Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, and the low, unamused hum that rumbles through his chest makes his feelings on the exchange very clear.
“Kind, hm?” His gaze slides from you to Suguru, narrowing with a protective edge. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
Suguru’s grin widens, clearly savoring the reaction he’s drawing out from his friend. There’s a certain satisfaction in the way his lips curl upward—knowing full well the tension he’s provoking.
“What?” He tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “I’m just calling it like I see it. And believe me, everyone’s seeing it tonight. y/n’s drawing the most attention.”
For a moment, the air between the two men thickens, and Satoru’s hand tightens ever so slightly around you.
“Mhm… she always does.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained with Satoru���s reaction, and without missing a beat, he saunters over—casually draping an arm over Satoru’s shoulders—a gesture that both diffuses and provokes in the same motion. Pulling his friend in slightly, he shakes him playfully with an unwavering grin.
“Oh yes, of course,” Suguru replies smoothly. “I mean, some people just have that natural charm. I’m sure half the room is probably wondering ‘who is that stunning woman on your arm.’”
Ah… the familiar dynamic between them is at play. It’s almost like clockwork—the way Suguru knows how to needle Satoru without truly ruffling his feathers. Their friendship has always been this way—filled with teasing, and light jabs—but under it all, there’s a solid foundation of trust.
Suguru is his best friend, after all.
Rolling his eyes, the grin tugging at the corners of Satoru’s lips betray him. He shrugs Suguru’s arm off his shoulders—giving him a light shove.
“Yeah, well... they can wonder all they want,” Satoru quips, casual but pointed. He shifts, and before you can react, he takes your hand, guiding you toward him in one fluid motion. Holding you close, he presses a tender kiss to your temple—the warmth of his lips sending a flutter of butterflies through your chest. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s with me,” he murmurs.
Suguru leans back slightly, clearly amused by how things are playing out, and his smirk widens—he can’t resist throwing in one last comment.
“Ahh… but if you’re not careful… someone might just steal her away.”
The words hang in the air, and for a brief second, everything feels charged—like a storm on the horizon. You can feel Satoru’s body tense ever so slightly, his fingers tightening on your waist. Suguru’s teasing is nothing unusual, but tonight... tonight it feels different. The thought of testing Satoru right now seems almost… dangerous.
Maybe it’s the setting, the way you’re dressed, or maybe it’s the fact that you both know he’s holding more than just your hand tonight.
The remote.
Fucking hell…Suguru may think he’s getting under Satoru’s skin, but you know better. Tonight is not the night to test Satoru’s patience.
Before the tension can build further, Shoko, ever the master of diffusing, steps in with a smirk and a light nudge to Suguru’s side.
“Well, it’s good to see nothing’s changed,” she remarks, full of playful exasperation. “Still managing to get under his skin, I see.”
Suguru chuckles, his smile widening as he throws his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s a gift,” he says with an exaggerated shrug.
Satoru’s grip on your waist loosens, the tension that had been simmering, melting away like snow under the sun from Shoko’s well-timed comment.
Oh, Shoko. You could kiss her right now—tonight, of all nights, you really needed that—needed her.
Satoru hums in response, the sound low and laced with mock approval as his gaze flickers between Suguru and you—his lips curving into a teasing smile.
“If by gift, you mean an annoyance, then sure,” he murmurs.
“Eh. Same thing,” Suguru shrugs, smiling—not phased in the slightest by Satoru’s retort.
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in mock disapproval at the two of them.
“You two are impossible…” you murmur.
Before anyone can say more, a gentleman in a sharp suit approaches Satoru—tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
“Mr. Gojo, I believe the event coordinator needs a word with you about the auction details.”
Satoru’s eyes flicker briefly with irritation at the interruption, but ever the charmer, he covers it with a polite smile.
“Of course,” he responds smoothly. Before stepping away, he turns to you—lifting your hand gently into his own. His lips brush against your knuckles in a tender, lingering kiss, sending a soft warmth radiating through your chest. “I’ll be back in just a moment, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
You manage a smile as you watch him walk away, and as soon as Satoru is out of earshot, Shoko leans in closer to you—her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Sooo, how are things really?” her eyes gleam with playful curiosity. “Satoru keeping you on your toes?”
Well… that’s one way to put it—if only she knew half of it. You take a small breath, glancing briefly at Satoru as he moves across the room.
“Yeah…” a soft, fond smile spreads across your face. “You could say that…”
“Well,” she chuckles, patting your arm gently, “I’ll give you this—two years with Satoru? You deserve a medal,” she teases. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. Seems like just yesterday we were all at this gala, two years ago. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” you murmur, your voice dropping slightly as you recall that night, still so vivid. “It was... intense.”
Shoko grins, her eyes bright with recollection.
“Intense?” She shakes her head. “You two practically set the room on fire. The way he looked at you that night? I swear… I thought the whole world was going to stop spinning.”
Her words bring a slight flush to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile at the memory.
“And now, look at you…” Shoko continues, her tone softening with affection. “Two years in, and he’s still completely wrapped around your finger.”
You bite your lip, feeling a warmth flutter in your chest.
“Well…he’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” you admit, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the ring on your hand—a gesture you do without thinking.
Ah…but it’s not the ring you want it to be.
Shoko notices the subtle movement, her eyes flicking to your hand before she gives you a knowing smirk.
“Oh, please,” she teases, flicking a hand toward you with a playful roll of her eyes. “Persistent? The man’s practically obsessed. Not that I blame him, of course.” She gestures to your gown—the fabric shimmering under the soft lights. “Seriously. You do look stunning, as always.”
You chuckle softly at her compliment—shaking your head. “Thanks, Sho.”
From the side, Suguru, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally steps forward, his smile soft and genuine.
“Man… two years already, huh?” he remarks, rich with sincerity—his gaze shifting between you and where Satoru had gone. “You and Satoru... I never would’ve guessed it back then, but now? It just makes sense.”
You tilt your head slightly, genuinely intrigued by his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, meeting his gaze.
Suguru chuckles, a warm, low sound.
“I mean… you balance him out. He needs someone like you—someone who can handle him and keep him grounded. You keep him on his toes, but you also... well, you make him better.”
His words catch you off guard—you feel your heart swell and a faint blush paint your cheeks.
“I never thought about it like that,” you admit, offering him a soft smile.
“Well, it’s true,” Suguru replies, his smile widening as he casually shoves his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know he’s not the easiest guy to deal with, but with you? He’s found someone worth changing for.”
You blink, his words sinking in, and you feel the weight of the compliment settle in your chest. It’s not often people see beyond the surface of Satoru and his larger-than-life persona, but Suguru always had a way of getting to the heart of things.
“Thanks, Suguru. That... that means a lot.”
Shoko, sensing the tender turn of the conversation, steps back in with her usual playful demeanor—her smirk returning in full force.
“Alright, alright,” she interjects with a mock sigh, “Enough of this heart-to-heart. I’m off to find a drink before this turns into a therapy session,” she jokes, giving your arm a light squeeze before she starts sauntering off toward the bar.
You and Suguru are left standing there as you watch her go—his head shaking slightly with amusement.
“She’s always like that…” he murmurs, half to himself.
You’re about to respond, to make some lighthearted comment in return, when the world around you suddenly shifts—tilts, really, in a way that sends a jolt of warmth radiating through your core. It’s subtle, barely noticeable at first, but your body betrays you—stiffening as a wave of unexpected pleasure coils low in your stomach. Your breath catches, and before you can even process what’s happening, a soft gasp slips past your lips.
Oh, no. No, no, no. Not now.
Suguru, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice the sudden change in your demeanor—he continues talking, oblivious to the soft hum of the Hula beads that have sprung to life inside you. But you know. You know exactly what’s happening.
Satoru.
The soft, torturous vibrations pulse through you, teasing, building in intensity just enough to make your legs wobble slightly. It’s maddening—the way the beads twist and hum with perfect, controlled precision, sending sharp, undeniable shocks of pleasure through your core—the kind that makes your knees want to give out if you’re not careful.
You swallow hard, desperately trying to maintain your composure, nodding along to whatever Suguru is saying. God… what is he even saying? His words are little more than background noise to the mounting pressure building inside of you.
Fucking Satoru.
You’ve been left alone for all of two minutes, and he’s already playing with you. Already reminding you who’s in control tonight.
Your pulse races as you glance around the room, frantically searching for him—and there he is, across the room, casually speaking with someone. His white hair catches the soft light, making him stand out even in the crowd, and his gaze is focused on the conversation—until it’s not. His eyes flick over to you, locking with yours in a way that feels like a tether between you both.
And then he smirks.
The kind of smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
Your chest tightens as the vibrations inside you shift—deeper, more intense—and you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You want to scream, to curse him from across the room, but you can’t. Not with Suguru standing right here.
“y/n?” Suguru asks softly, concerned. “You alright?”
Oh God…are you obvious?
You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, clearing your throat. “Just… the room’s a bit, erm… warm.”
Warm? That’s the best you could come up with?
Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing that something’s off, but too kind to push it. Instead, he gives you a soft, reassuring smile—his hand coming to rest gently on your arm. It’s a simple touch that would normally be comforting, but right now, it only heightens your awareness of the relentless pulses inside you—and Satoru’s own relentlessness.
Because then, without warning, the Hula beads kick up in intensity.
The sudden surge of vibration hits you like a shockwave, and you nearly double over from the sensation as it reaches your clit. Your knees almost give out, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to gasp aloud. The vibrations aren’t just subtle anymore; they’re deep, insistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each agonizing pulse.
Fuck.
Your breath hitches, and you have to dig your nails into your palms to keep yourself grounded. The wet heat building inside you feels like it’s going to explode. You glance back at Satoru—catching sight of his unwavering gaze—and in that brief, charged moment, he mouths the words to you slowly, deliberately:
You’re mine.
Your cunt drips. Oh God… he’s doing this because of Suguru—reminding you that no matter who you’re talking to, no matter who you’re with, you belong to him.
A flush of heat spreads through your cheeks, and you quickly turn your attention back to Suguru, hoping to hide the storm brewing inside of you. He continues speaking, but you barely hear him. Every nerve in your body is too focused on the pulsing hum—on the way your body reacts involuntarily to every shift in vibration.
Oh, Shoko—you could strangle her.
If she hadn’t left you alone with Suguru, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here on the brink of losing control, struggling to keep your legs from buckling under the pressure of the relentless pleasure surging through you.
Your gaze snaps to Satoru, and for a brief, charged moment, he meets your eyes. His hand slips into his pocket, his expression infuriatingly smug, as if to say, Remember who’s in control.
The vibrations surge even more—your entire body tensing. It’s too much.
You’re so close—too close. Your pussy quivers as you teeter on the edge of release, and all you can do is bite your lip to stifle the whimper that’s threatening to escape.
But just as the pressure coils and the pleasure peaks—right when you’re about to fall over the precipice—everything stops. The vibrations cease entirely, leaving you trembling and breathless—your body screaming for a release that’s been snatched away.
You blink in shock—your legs weak as your slick drips down your thigh—the sudden loss of sensation leaving you reeling.
Ready to shoot Satoru a glare, the moment you look in his direction you barely register the fact that he’s already moving towards you and Suguru with long purposeful strides—and in seconds, he’s standing beside you.
“So sorry to interrupt,” his hand slips around your waist—pulling you flush against him as his thumb brushes lightly over your hip. “But I think I’ll be stealing her away now.”
Suguru chuckles, unaware of the game Satoru’s been playing—or just how close you came to unraveling right in front of him.
“Tch… already?” he tilts his head, grin widening. “We barely had a chance to catch up.”
Satoru doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking from Suguru to you—eyes dark with intent.
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll all have time for that later…” his tone is casual, but there’s a hidden edge beneath the surface, and when his eyes meet yours, there’s a dangerous glint—a silent promise that makes your breath hitch and a shiver run down your spine. “Right now,I need her,” he smirks.
Suguru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over you—lingering a moment too long as if noticing the flush of your cheeks, the way you’re clinging to Satoru’s arm a little more tightly than usual.
With a theatrical sigh, he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Guess I’ll go find Shoko then, so I don’t have to be the third wheel.” As he takes a step back, he gives you one last playful glance. “But don’t hog her all night, Satoru,” he warns teasingly even as he steps away. “I expect to get at least one dance later.”
Satoru chuckles dismissively—his focus already shifting entirely to you as Suguru fades out of existence. “Yeah, right… not happening,” he mutters under his breath.
The moment Suguru’s out of earshot, Satoru tightens his grip on your waist, pulling your body flush against his. A slow smirk tugs at his lips the moment you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal—his cock, hard and unyielding, pressing into you.
“You looked like you were about to fall apart back there, sweetheart,” his lips brush your ear as he tenderly trails his fingers through your hair. “Tell me… you were so close, weren’t you?”
Your breath stutters as his hand slides slowly, possessively down your back. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your dress, making your body shudder as he lingers just above the curve of your hips. Your cunt aches for the release he denied you.
“Satoru…you’re... so unfair.”
“Unfair?” he chuckles, pulling back slightly and running his thumb tenderly across your lower lip—watching your breath hitch at his touch. “Oh, princess… if only you knew…” His voice drops lower—lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “I want to drag you away and show you just how unfair I can be.”
You bite your lip, stifling a moan—the heat pooling between your legs. Your hand instinctively rests against his chest, fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his tuxedo—feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat mirroring your own. Your lips part as you take in a shaky breath.
“Take me somewhere right now… I don’t care where, just… please don’t make me wait any longer.”
Your voice is breathless, desperate, and the moment the words leave your lips, you see the shift in his expression—his cock twitches in his pants and his eyes darken with raw desire. He clenches his jaw and breathes sharply through his nose, almost as if he’s trying to regain control. As he lowers his forehead against yours, you feel his hand drop from your hair to grip your hips possessively.
“Fuck...” he growls softly, “You have no idea how hard you have me. Every time you look at me like that...” he exhales, his fingers pressing harder into you as his gaze drops to your lips. “…I just want to take you right here.”
His touch slides lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before they begin to glide back up, slipping teasingly over the small of your back. It’s an innocent enough motion to anyone watching—but the way his fingers linger, the way his body presses into yours, it sends a tingling wave of heat to your pussy.
“If we weren’t in public right now…” his voice rumbles against your skin as he nuzzles into the delicate curve of your neck, “I’d have you on your knees, begging for me. I’d make you scream my name so loud, the only thing you’d be able to think about is how much you fucking need me.”
Your knees nearly give way at the intensity of his words, but his strong arm tightens around you, steadying you. You whine as his fingers rise up to weave through your hair again, tugging gently as his other hand returns to your waist, trailing down slowly before gripping your hip again.
“Mmm… but not yet,” he whispers, dripping with control. “Not here.”
You let out a soft, frustrated groan, leaning into his chest, craving more—craving him. His infuriating smirk brushes against your skin, and he hums in amusement. He pulls you back to look at you, his hand coming up the tenderly cup your cheek.
“Come now,” he murmurs affectionately, “You’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”
You exhale heavily, rolling your eyes despite the tight knot of desire twisting inside you.
“Yes...” you mumble.
His eyebrow arches as he leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes… I’ll behave,” you huff in frustration.
A slow, satisfied smirk tugs at Satoru’s lips as he pulls back. He caresses your hair once more and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, the words wrapping around you like a promise. “Because if you don’t… I’ll fucking ruin you later.”
Oh, you know he will—and you’ll love every second of it.
The night was going smoothly. The opulent charity gala had everything: fine champagne, crystal chandeliers, and the hum of soft conversation drifting through the ballroom. Satoru had barely left your side, his hand lingering on your waist, warm and magnetic—making you feel like the queen of the event, and every glance from the elite in attendance told you the same thing.
Together, you were commanding the room.
But then… she walked in.
Mei-Mei.
Her entrance was nothing short of dramatic—icy beauty wrapped in a form-fitting, silk gown that shimmered with every step and clung to her every curve. Heads turned, conversations quieted, and the air in the ballroom seemed to shift as she sauntered through the crowd with effortless grace.
Mei-Mei was made for these kinds of events. She exuded money, and it wasn’t just in her attire; it was in her entire demeanor—the confidence of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to buy anything she desired—including people. And more than anything, that’s exactly what she wanted to project.
Her sharp, catlike eyes scan the room slowly, as if weighing its worth, and you can instantly feel the moment her gaze lands on you—and on Satoru.
Once upon a time, long before you entered his life, Mei-Mei had been Satoru’s girlfriend. And her interest in him? Well… it had never been about love.
No, Mei-Mei was a woman who measured people by their value—their status, their influence, and most importantly, their wealth. Satoru had checked all the boxes—he was power personified, and she loved the way that power elevated her—until she overplayed her hand and Satoru had walked away.
The façade had cracked—once Satoru had realized what she was truly after, how she valued his bank account more than anything else, he was through. He had never spoken much about their prior relationship, but you’ve heard enough through whispers in social circles.
But Mei-Mei? She’d never forgiven him for it—he had stolen away the life she had always dreamed for herself.
Now, as her eyes flick over you and Satoru, you catch sight of the challenge forming behind her sharpened smile as she immediately changes her course.
You can feel Satoru’s arm instinctively tighten around your waist, his body leaning slightly into yours—he’s noticed her too. You glance up at him, offering a soft smile—your silent way of telling him, you’re fine.
She’s not going to rattle you. Not tonight.
Her heels click in rhythmic precision against the marble floor as she approaches, and once she finally reaches you, her lips curl into a smile—sharp and precise—designed to appear friendly but lacking any warmth.
“Ah, y/n, dear,” she began, smooth as silk but dripping with condescension. “You look... cute tonight.” Her gaze flicks to Satoru for a fraction of a second before landing back on you. “I suppose Satoru always did have a thing for... simplicity.”
Oh… she wants to play?
Fine. You meet her eyes without hesitation—your unwavering smile poised and steady.
“Simplicity?” you echo, letting a carefree laugh slip through. “Oh, darling… simplicity is what makes elegance effortless. I suppose that’s a skill not everyone can master, hmm?”
For just a fraction of a second, you see it—her mask slips. Her smile falters, her jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow just a little too much. It’s quick, but you catch it.
Got her.
But Mei-Mei doesn’t like being outmaneuvered. Especially not by you.
Her eyes flick away from yours, turning to Satoru with a renewed smile—wider, as if trying to reclaim control. But you see through the charm; there’s bitterness behind it.
“Well,” she continues, voice dripping with false nostalgia, “Satoru and I were quite the power couple once, weren’t we?” her gaze flicks back to you. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten.”
As her voice drops, like a private whisper shared between ex-lovers, you feel Satoru tense beside you. His grip on you tightens as though he’s silently urging you to ignore her. But nah—you aren’t about to back down. Not tonight.
Letting your hand trail slowly down the front of Satoru’s tux, your fingertips graze the fabric teasingly as you glance up at him, offering a soft, playful smile. His eyes soften immediately, and he pulls you a little closer.
“Mmm… but memories have a funny way of fading when you’ve found something far more fulfilling.”
Satoru responds immediately, his gaze melting into yours, the tension in his shoulders easing as his fingers squeeze your waist slightly—a silent declaration of where his loyalties lie. Your voice is sweet, affectionate, and though your words are for Satoru, they’re aimed squarely at Mei-Mei.
You catch sight of her reaction in the corner of your eye—the way her fingers clench around her designer clutch a bit too tightly—a crack of frustration leaking through her forced smile.
“You know,” she starts again, this time more pointed, “men like Satoru tend to... wander. He’s incapable of settling down, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”
The jab hangs in the air, and you feel Satoru stiffen beside you. He’s clearly irritated now, but it’s not her words that bother you—it’s the audacity.
How dare she throw shade at him?
Your eyebrow arches, and a light, almost dismissive laugh escapes your lips. The sound slices through her words, gentle but cutting.
“Oh, Mei-Mei…” you coo, her name slipping off your tongue with a mix of sweetness and pity. “You see, some men wander when they’re searching for something they don’t have. But when they’ve found what they truly want? They stay.”
Your words hit her like a slap disguised as a caress, and you see the moment it lands—underneath the lacy mask resting on the bridge of her nose, her eyes flash, and her smile tightens. Despite her best efforts, she tries to remain composed.
“I suppose we’ll see how long that lasts.”
You smile serenely, unbothered, and tilt your head slightly, like you’re humoring a child.
“Yes, well. Satoru’s never been one to settle for anything less than what he deserves. I suppose that’s why he left you.”
The subtle shift in her demeanor tells you everything you need to know.
You’ve won.
The frustration beneath her surface bubbles to the top, and it’s barely hidden behind the sharp scoff that escapes her lips. Her exit is quick, muttering some vague excuse before turning on her heel and sauntering away with stiff shoulders. Ahh… her movements are a bit too rigid for someone who’s pretending not to care.
Your heart swells pridefully with the satisfaction of standing your ground as you watch her go—not just for yourself, but for Satoru too. Your Satoru.
You feel his grip on you tighten the moment Mei-Mei disappears from view, and before you can even process what’s happening, he's pulling you flush against him—his body warm, firm, and incredibly close.
The heat radiating from him feels almost electrifying, and his breath ghosts against the shell of your ear.
“Fuck… do you have any idea how hot that was?”
You bite your lip—the victory was sweet, but the fire in his words make it even sweeter. A wave of heat spreads through your core.
“You were incredible,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. “God you’re perfect… so fucking perfect.”
His praise stokes the fire that’s already building within you, and you’re keenly aware of every inch of him pressed firmly on your hip—his cock twitching against you.
“Yeah…?” you grin, snaking your arms around his neck and brushing your fingers through his hair. “Do I finally get my reward?”
A low chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he pulls back just enough to hover his lips over yours, teasingly close.
“Oh, sweetheart... you deserve so much more than a reward. I want to take you apart, piece by fucking piece.”
The intensity of his gaze and the hunger in his voice sends your mind spinning and your cunt dripping, but just as your lips part, ready to respond, the moment is shattered.
“Oi, lovebirds!” Shoko’s teasing voice cuts through the haze of desire, her playful smirk and a raised eyebrow unmistakable as she approaches with Suguru right behind her. “Auction’s about to start. Unless you two plan on putting on a show for the whole room?”
Satoru lets out a frustrated growl, his forehead pressing against yours as he takes a slow, steadying breath. His grip on your waist lingers for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold.
“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters under his breath, casting a mock glare at Shoko and Suguru.
“Save it for later, Satoru,” Suguru chimes in with a chuckle, reveling in his annoyance. “There’ll be plenty of time for you two to... ‘catch up,’ after the auction, right?”
Satoru rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth. Leaning down, he places a lingering kiss upon your lips.
“Later, kay?” he murmurs, “This is far from over.”
The atmosphere in the room shifts as the auction begins—the hum of conversation fading to a soft murmur. A dim glow washes over the ballroom, casting a warm light that bounces off the crystal chandeliers and reflects in the glasses scattered across the elegantly decorated tables. You sit comfortably beside Satoru, feeling the warmth of his hand resting casually on your thigh beneath the table—his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your skin.
There’s a soft hum of anticipation as the auctioneer takes the stage, microphone in hand—his voice cutting through the ambient noise with practiced ease.
“And now, for our first item for the evening,” the auctioneer announces with an air of ceremony. “We have something truly special—a limited-edition necklace from the Gojo Jewelry Collection. This timeless piece showcases the elegance of infinity, adorned with rare, precious sapphire jewels, designed exclusively for this event.”
Satoru sits up a little straighter, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. The rest of the room seems to follow his gaze as the spotlight shifts to the display case. And there it is—the necklace.
It gleams under the warm lighting, the infinity pendant catching the rays in a way that makes the jewels shimmer like stars. The design is breathtaking, a perfect balance of boldness and grace, simplicity and luxury.
You’ve always admired Satoru’s designs, but this one feels particularly special. It’s more than just a piece of jewelry; it’s a statement, a testament to his creativity and craftsmanship.
You can’t help but lean in closer to Satoru, admiration bubbling within as the pendant slowly spins on its pedestal, casting tiny flecks of light across the room.
“It’s gorgeous,” you breathe.
Satoru’s lips curve into a self-satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with pride.
“Mmm, told ya it’d turn some heads,” he murmurs. “Definitely one of my favorites.”
Your gaze sweeps across the room to gauge the crowd’s reaction, and then you see her—Mei-Mei—sitting at one of the prime tables, posture immaculate, her sharp eyes already fixed on the necklace with a look of pure, calculated hunger.
Of course.
Of course, she’d want his necklace—because it’s not just about the necklace itself—it’s the prestige of wearing something tied to Satoru, a statement that she could have something rare, exclusive, and coveted.
“This necklace represents timeless elegance and endless love,” the auctioneer says smoothly, offering a subtle nod toward Satoru. “And, as a limited edition, we are thrilled to offer this piece. It’s truly one of a kind, created exclusively for tonight’s event.”
You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.
Oh? Is that what it represents?
Well then—who are you to let Mei-Mei walk away with it? The idea of her winning something tied to Satoru, of her flaunting that connection, fuels a competitive spark in you.
The bidding starts, and unsurprisingly, Mei-Mei is quick to raise her paddle, her face smug with satisfaction as she bids confidently.
“Six thousand!” the auctioneer calls out, voice booming through the ballroom.
Leaning back slightly in your chair, your fingers casually brush over Satoru’s hand on your thigh. He looks at you, his curious gaze meeting yours as you offer him a knowing smirk, and he quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you lazily raise your paddle.
“Seven thousand,” a soft smile graces your lips.
Satoru’s grip tightens slightly on your thigh, and you feel the low hum of approval rumbling from him. Mei-Mei’s eyes snap toward you, narrowing in disbelief—she clearly hadn’t expected you to join in. But there it is—that flicker of annoyance. Her paddle goes up again, just as you knew it would.
“Ten thousand,” Mei-Mei counters.
The auctioneer nods in her direction. “Ten thousand! Do I hear twelve?”
Without missing a beat, you lift your paddle once more, your smile growing. “Twelve thousand.”
Satoru’s eyes glitter with amusement as he watches the subtle tension building between you and Mei-Mei. His hand slides a little higher on your thigh, fingers pressing with a bit more intent as he leans in—breath warm against your ear.
“Fuck… this is seriously turning me on way more than it should…” he mutters. “You’re going to make her lose her mind.”
You bite back a grin. “Mmm, well, that’s the plan.”
The bidding continues, but now Mei-Mei hesitates, the confidence in her posture starting to falter.
“Fifteen thousand,” you say smoothly, your paddle already raised.
Mei-Mei’s lips press together into a thin line. Her eyes flash with frustration as she debates whether to push higher. After a tense moment, she raises her paddle again, but her voice lacks its earlier bravado.
“Sixteen thousand,” a hint of uncertainty creeps into her tone.
You don’t even flinch.
“Twenty thousand.”
Satoru’s fingers tighten on your thigh again, his breath hitching slightly as he leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“God, you’re so damn hot when you’re like this,” he growls, shifting slightly in his seat from his growing erection.
Your heart races with satisfaction as your eyes lock on Mei-Mei’s once more, daring her to keep going. But the resolve in her eyes wavers. Slowly, with a barely concealed pout, she lowers her paddle.
“Twenty thousand, going once… going twice… sold to the lovely lady in the elegant gown!” The auctioneer’s gavel comes down with a decisive crack, and the room erupts into polite applause.
As the ripple of applause moves throughout the room, it’s Mei-Mei’s sour expression that you relish in most. Ah, victory feels sweet.
You lean back in your chair, turning to Satoru with a playful, victorious smile.
“Well… that was fun.”
He’s practically beaming, eyes dark with pride and something more as his hand slips up your thigh—teasingly close to your core now.
“I swear to God… I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the rest of this auction without pulling you into the nearest empty room and fucking you.”
His words make your pussy drip, but before you can respond, the auctioneer’s voice booms once again, drawing your attention back to the stage.
“And now, we have something special for the next event. This is one of our unique auction segments—where attendees have the chance to bid for a dance with one of our lovely participants. All the proceeds will go to tonight’s charity, of course.”
There’s a murmur of interest from the crowd, a few amused chuckles as people begin to sit up a little straighter. You, however, remain mostly unbothered, still riding the high from outbidding Mei-Mei— and the arousal of Satoru’s fingers caressing your thigh underneath the table.
But then, something pulls your attention back to the stage—a faint thread of confusion beginning to weave through your thoughts as you hear the list of names being read out.
Did you… just hear your name? Wait… what?
You whip your head toward Satoru—and his expression mirrors your confusion, eyebrows raising slightly. But before you can fully register what’s happening, you catch sight of Suguru across the table—grin wide, eyes glinting with mischief.
Oh no…
Your mind scrambles, replaying the events of earlier in the night. Suguru had been chatting with you, something about the auction—while you were busy being thoroughly distracted by Satoru's relentless teasing with the Hula beads. The memories blur together, but now you realize…
Oh god… you’d been so focused on the pleasure that you barely even processed Suguru’s words. Did you accidentally agree to this?
Before you can react, the auctioneer is already moving forward, inviting the women participating in the dance auction to step on stage. And there it is—your name again, clear as day, listed among them.
Satoru stiffens beside you, his grip on your thigh tightening as he whips his head toward Suguru. A pointed look flashes across his face, but Suguru, oh, Suguru—he’s practically glowing with amusement. Leaning back in his chair, his arms cross over his chest as if enjoying every second of this unfolding chaos.
“Suguru…” Satoru hisses under his breath. “Was this your doing?”
Suguru shrugs, his smirk widening in response to the clear irritation radiating from Satoru.
“What?” he says with faux innocence. “y/n agreed to it.”
Satoru’s eyes narrow and his grip on you tightens. There’s a moment of tension as you feel him lean in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he growls, “…you agreed to this?”
Your mind scrambles for an explanation, but before you can respond, Suguru’s voice cuts in again.
“It’s for charity,” Suguru adds with a playful lilt. “It’ll be fun.”
His words hang in the air like a taunt, and Satoru’s eyes narrow at Suguru—his possessive grip tightening on your plush thigh as his jaw clenches.
“C’mon Satoru. Let’s see how much your girl is worth.”
As the auctioneer repeats your name over the microphone, drawing the crowd’s attention to you, you feel every pair of eyes in the room turning in your direction. Satoru leans in closer—his breath warm against your ear.
“Fine then… I hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, the teasing edge in his voice betraying the simmering tension beneath it.
Your stomach flips from the intensity of his gaze, and you hesitate for a moment—glancing between the stage and Satoru. Uh oh… the heat is rolling off him in waves—it’s clear he’s not thrilled with the idea of you being up there for everyone to bid on, but… what is that mischievous glint in his eye?
That’s a bit… unsettling.
Reluctantly, you stand—your heart racing as you smooth down your dress and make your way toward the stage. The spotlight warms your skin, and the auctioneer welcomes you with an enthusiastic gesture. But before you can fully settle into the moment, you feel it—a soft, familiar pulse deep within you.
Fucking hell. Here?
The vibrations start low, teasing, but enough to make your knees wobble slightly as you stand in front of the crowd. You glance down at Satoru, who remains seated, his eyes locked onto you with an almost predatory gleam. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk as his fingers tap lightly against his thigh—a silent admission that he’s the one behind the sudden wave of pleasure coursing through your body.
He is cruel—doing this while you’re on stage.
The auctioneer wastes no time, diving right into the event as he begins introducing each woman on stage, one by one. The crowd’s attention is fixed on the participants as the bids for each woman slowly climb higher, some reaching $5,000 before being closed off with a cheerful crack of the auctioneer’s gavel.
But as you stand there—your heart thudding in your chest as you wait for your turn—the vibrations pulsing deep inside you are a constant, teasing reminder of Satoru’s hold over you.
“And now, for our next participant—y/n!” The auctioneer’s voice rings out, and the crowd’s attention immediately shifts to you. A murmur ripples through the ballroom as you stand in the spotlight, trying to maintain your composure—but the slow, torturous vibrations leave you dripping in front of everyone.
You swallow hard as the auctioneer begins at a low price, and before anyone else can react, Satoru’s hand shoots up.
“Five thousand,” he calls out, voice steady, eyes locked on you.
Before you can process it fully, another voice cuts in, smooth and confident—Suguru.
“Seven thousand,” his gaze flickers briefly to Satoru—daring him to up the stakes.
Satoru clenches his jaw, but his gaze never leaves yours. His hand goes up again.
“Ten thousand.”
Your breath hitches—this bidding is escalating so quickly it’s making your head spin, and the relentless vibrations are driving you wild.
Suguru chuckles as he raises his paddle, enjoying every second of this. “Twenty thousand,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair.
The crowd murmurs, a few gasps here and there, but no one dares interrupt this battle of wills between the two men. You bite your lip, feeling the pulse of the beads inside you grow stronger. Fuckfuckfuck… your body reacts involuntarily, and a soft gasp escapes your lips.
Satoru notices immediately and the corner of his lips twitch up slightly. His gaze darkens, and without missing a beat, he raises his paddle once more. “Fifty thousand.”
The room falls silent, and your heart drums in your chest, racing alongside the vibrations tormenting your body. Shifting your weight slightly, your pussy hums in pleasure under the spotlight—struggling to hold yourself together.
Suguru, leans back, arms crossing over his chest as he studies Satoru, clearly impressed by his boldness. Then, just as it looks like he’s about to raise his paddle again, Satoru leans forward and his voice drops even lower.
“One hundred thousand.”
The crowd gasps. The entire ballroom seems to shift—stunned by the sheer audacity of the number.
Raising an eyebrow, Suguru lets out a low amused whistle. Then, with a smirk, he raises his hands in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath. “Well, well, Satoru… looks like you win.”
As Suguru places his paddle down, the grin plastered upon his face makes it painfully obvious –he’s thoroughly enjoyed how far this has gone, and the auctioneer, momentarily speechless, quickly attempts to recover.
“One hundred thousand, going once… going twice…” he slams his gavel down with a sharp crack. “Sold to Mr. Gojo for one hundred thousand dollars!”
The applause that follows feels distant—entirely drowned out by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your wet cunt. This is torture. Your legs are weak, your pulse racing, and Satoru’s eyes are locked on you, burning with intensity.
Leaning back in his chair, a slow possessive smirk spreads across his lips.
He’s told the entire room—and you—that you belong to him.
The applause disappears into background noise as Satoru grabs your hand—a grip that’s firm and relentless. There’s no time for conversation, no time for teasing words—he’s already pulling you away from the auction, weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides.
The way his body is practically humming with urgency, tells you everything—it’s an urgency that matches the pulsing throb still lingering in your clit from his playful torture during the auction.
You stumble slightly to keep up as he moves through the dim lights of the ballroom—everything blurring together as he maneuvers through tables. Once you reach the edge of the room, he guides you into one of the shadowy hallways leading away from the event.
“Satoru…” the moment his name leaves your lips, he shoots a glance back at you, dark and filled with unbridled need.
“Not a fucking word,” his grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you along. “If you say another word…” his breath hitches, “I’ll fuck you right here, against this wall. I don’t care who sees.”
Oh, he’s barely restrained—it’s a hunger that’s been building all night.
Everything fades into the background as he guides you down the empty corridor, and the moment he reaches a single door hidden at the end, he’s shoving it open and dragging you inside.
The room is dimly lit, but he doesn’t give you the time of day to take in your surroundings—no—he’s on you in an instant.
“I can’t fucking wait any longer,” kicking the door shut with his foot, his hands immediately find your waist as he presses you up against the nearest wall. “Fucking finally…” he growls, rolling his erection against you, making you gasp. “Feel that?” his lips brush against your ear as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass tightly. “That’s what you’ve done to me all night.”
“Satoru—” he cuts you off with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless.
Your head spins as his hands rampantly roam your body. He’s desperate for you—grunting as he pins you—the wall against your back, his cock between your legs. His forceful friction makes your body arch, and you can feel his smug smirk curling against your lips as you let out a soft, needy moan.
He pulls away—his lips grazing your jawline as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
“Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to sit there,” he accentuates his words with a ruthless thrust, “seeing you squirm, knowing you were soaking wet and no one else could tell?”
His lips crash back into yours, devouring you before he pulls away again.
“…watching you tell Mei-Mei off, knowing you’re mine,” his cock twitches at the memory as he grinds into you again, “fuck when you outbid her…all I could think about was bending you over that damn table to fuck you right in front of her.”
The filthy image he paints in your mind sends a surge of heat through your body, “fuck, that’s so hot…” you let out a breathless moan, your legs trembling as your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “Need you, now.”
Another bruising kiss follows, his teeth grazing your lower lip, biting down gently before releasing it. He pulls away, and your cunt drips the moment he commands,
“Turn around.”
You oblige—moving on instinct as you spin around. Your palms press flat against the cool wall and your back arches just slightly as you present yourself to him.
Completely at his mercy—exactly how you both want it.
“Fuck, you look so perfect like this."
You hold your breath as his fingers purposefully slide over your ass, and the moment his hands find the hem of your dress, he gathers the fabric in his fists and urgently bunches it up your thighs, allowing the cool air to hit the wet fabric between your legs.
“Look at you,” he coos, tugging the dress up higher. “You’re fucking dripping, baby,” your heat intensifies as his fingers trace an outline on your pussy. “Jesus, you’re fucking soaked… wearing these beads all night… so wet for me.”
As he tugs your drenched panties down in one fell swoop, his fingers trace the slickness of your cunt—curling between the thin string of the Hula beads.
“You took them so well… now let me show you what comes next.”
You shudder as he slowly, torturously starts to remove them—the device dragging against your sensitive core, making your knees tremble. He hums in approval as the last of the Hula beads slip out.
But as you exhale shakily, Satoru doesn’t give you a moment to recover.
“—‘toru!” his hands grip your hips firmly as he forcefully guides to towards a nearby vanity—positioning himself behind you as he pushes you down in front of the mirror.
“You’ve had your fun baby, but now it’s my turn,” as the words leave his lips, you hear the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down—the urgency is evident in the way his hands work to release himself. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”
You gasp the moment his free cock presses against your bare skin, and your pussy grows more wet from the sound of him stroking himself, mixed with the shallow breaths escaping his lips.
Once you catch sight of his reflection in the mirror—cock in hand, eyes dark with lust, jaw clenched with restraint—fuck you know. He was feral.
His weeping tip lines up against your entrance.
“Look at you, trembling already…” he coos, rubbing your combined slick with his dick. “So desperate for it, aren’t you?”
Your head drops down and your legs quiver as he teases your entrance—fucking hell what is he waiting for? It’s maddening. You want to be filled, to finally feel the sweet release you’ve been tortuously denied all night.
Glancing up, you catch sight of his infuriating smirk in the reflection.
“Satoru, please hurry up,” you whine as his cock brushes against your clit.
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Patience princess.”
You can’t wait.
Without his permission, you rock your hips back, and he slides in effortlessly as you take him in with one swift motion. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as his thick cock becomes soaked in your wetness, stretching you full.
Satoru sucks in a sharp breath—his grip on your hips tightening as he struggles to hold back the urge to burst inside you the very moment he bottoms out, right then and there. Your cunt is too fucking good.
"Fucking—wait, wait, wait," he hisses through clenched teeth—his cock twitching and his eyes fluttering shut as he quickly tries to steady himself.
You bite your lip, trembling as you watch his reaction in the mirror—the way he’s flexing…shuddering… oh god. How can you wait?
“Satoru… nngh,” your hips roll against him in slow deliberate motions, “haa—can’t wait anymore.”
His eyes snap open at your words, watching your reflection as his jaw clenches with unbridled restraint. He pursues his lips and exhales through his nose—and in that instant, there’s an immediate shift in him—a moment of pure unadulterated lust.
“Needy little thing…” his grip is, forceful, bruising as he growls, “goddamn it, princess…you couldn’t fucking wait. Fine.”
Oh, you’ve done it now.
Pulling back, he removes his dick just enough to slam forward with a brutal force that makes you cry out in pleasure. You drop your head on the vanity surface, gasping as he buries himself deep inside you.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
He sets a brutal pace, each thrust harder as your pussy stretches around his thick pulsing cock—it’s too much, too perfect. The pleasure courses through your veins like fire as he drives into you with a relentless ferocity, leaving you shaking.
The vanity dresser rattles under his force, and the mirror reflects every delicious second of it—your body arching, your mouth falling open, the glazed-over look in your eyes as he ravishes your cunt. But most of all, the way Satoru watches you fall apart for him—possessive and proud.
His hand moves from your hips, sliding up the curve of your body to grip your chin. You whimper as he shifts deeper, leaning forward and forcing your gaze to peer directly in the mirror.
“C’mon now, look at yourself,” he pants, ragged as his hips slam into you with an unrelenting force. “Look how fucking pretty you look taking me like this.”
The pressure coils tight between your legs and your body hums as the pleasure becomes immeasurable. You don’t even realize how your eyes begin to flutter shut—not until his grip tightens on your chin, directing it forcefully to stare at your own reflection.
“No, no. Don’t you dare look away,” he slips two fingers in your mouth and you whimper at the intrusion. “Want you to see what a good girl you are for me.”
God, your head is spinning—the sight of watching him fuck you was so… erotic.
His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smirk as he takes in the sight of you completely fucked out—desperate, needy, sucking his fingers as you try to keep your eyes open, teetering on the edge of bliss—oh his cock twitches inside you.
“Haa—yesss… that’s my good girl…so fucking pretty. Takin m’ so well.”
The rhythm of his hips becomes erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper, each one sending jolts of ecstasy rippling through you. His breath becomes labored as his chest heaves against your back, and you can tell—yes, you can feel it—you’re both so close. So fucking close.
Each plunge pushes you further toward the edge, and your moans are muffled against his fingers. The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter until you can hardly breathe.
“This what you wanted?” his fingers slip out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting them before he brings his hand down, wrapping around your throat. “Tell me,” he pants, “say how fucking good I feel inside you.”
“—haa, so good…” you gasp, “’toru I’m—"
Your words are cut off by a shuddering cry as your body spasms, the intense pleasure crashing over you like a violent wave as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls tighten around him, coating his cock with your sweet slick as your body trembles uncontrollably in bliss.
“Fuuuck—that’s it, yes baby… squeeze me just like that,” his grip tightens on your throat as his hips slam into yours with reckless abandon. “So tight… fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He’s panting, his chest pressed against your back as the wet slaps of skin against skin fills the room.
His pace quickens and the overstimulation pushes you further, prolonging your orgasm. You feel your legs begin the weaken as you can barely hold yourself up against the vanity—his cock relentlessly hitting that spot deep inside you.
“’toru—fuck,” you cry, reeling from your climax, “need you to cum… please—”
His jaw clenches, and his breath shudders as he tries to hold back, but the sight of you, completely undone and begging drives him absolutely wild. With a low deep groan, his hands grip your hips as he rapidly chases his own release.
“God—fuck—anything for you… just for you, baby,” he rasps as the tension coils tight in his gut. “Shit—I’m gonna fill you up… fuck, take it all.”
His cock twitches violently as he buries himself deep with one final, brutal thrust. Your name falls from his lips in breathless broken murmurs as he erupts inside you—warm sticky cum filling you to the brim and painting your walls white.
“Haaa—yess… good girl… good fucking girl,” his hips stutter erratically and his head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut.
You feel his grip on your hip loosen as he finally comes to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you move, and neither of you speak—just the sound of your heavy breathing as his chest rises and falls heavily against your back.
His fingers begin to gently brush against your waist, tracing slow soothing patterns—a touch so tender compared to that relentless grip he held on you just moments before, and a warm shiver shoots through you as you feel his lips brush against your shoulder in a soft, lingering kiss.
“I fucking love you, y’know that?” he murmurs affectionately.
A warmth blooms deep in your chest, spreading outward from his words.
“I love you too,” there is both exhaustion and endearment in your voice as you turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, wearing a grin.
His still heavy-lidded eyes lock onto yours and a lazy, adoring smile spreads across his lips.
“Y’know…” he leans down to press a kiss to the curve of your neck, “I dunno what I did to deserve you but…” he nuzzles into your neck and his arms wrap around you, “I’m never letting you go.”
You lean into his touch and hum pensively, “Good. Cause you’re stuck with me.”
He chuckles softly, holding you close and basking in the moment. Then, he grunts as he lifts himself up—wincing slightly as he finally pulls his spent cock from you. The sensation makes you both involuntarily shudder.
You sigh, leaning forward on the vanity, and with a surprising tenderness, he leans down and uses his handkerchief to begin cleaning you up carefully—wiping away the evidence of your shared pleasure.
But as his fingers brush delicately against your still oversensitive sex, a small whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks at the sound and his eyes glint with amusement, clearly pleased by your reaction.
“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, though his touch remains gentle.
Rolling your eyes, you try to hide the smile tugging at your lips by burying your face into your arms—resting against the vanity.
“Well, what’d you expect?” you huff with mock exasperation—breath unsteady as he finishes cleaning you. “After the way you were teasing me all night?”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as his fingers linger a moment too long on your inner thighs, grazing dangerously close to where you’re still tender.
“Couldn’t help it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping a register. "You make it impossible to keep my hands off you…"
You suck in a sharp breath and glance back, giving him a playful but pointed look.
"Careful," you warn. "Or we’ll never make it back."
That devilishly charming grin curls upon his lips as his hands slide up and down your legs. “Mmm… well maybe I don’t want to make it back.”
Your breath hitches as his fingertips graze your skin one last time—then, he reaches down for your panties, and you watch through the mirror how he pockets them before finally smoothing down your bunched-up dress.
You glance back and shoot him a look, earning you a wicked grin.
“You’re hopeless…” you mumble, shaking your head as you straighten up, but before you can fully stand, his chest presses against your back, and you feel his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close.
A soft sigh escapes him as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply.
“It’s not fair... I don’t wanna go back,” he whines. “I just want to hold you… keep you all to myself tonight.”
"We’ll have all night after this," you murmur, turning to kiss his cheek softly. "C’mon… just a little longer and I’m all yours."
He groans, and you try to break the embrace, but suddenly he spins you around and his hands drift to your hips, pulling you even closer against him.
"But I dunno if I can behave for that long…" he whispers, tenderly caressing your cheek. "You say that… but I’m already thinking about sneaking you away again. Can’t help myself."
Stifling a smile, you roll your eyes as you place a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back so you can get a better look at him.
"You're lucky I love you," you say with a mock sigh, reaching up to fix the collar of his shirt and smoothing down the wrinkles in his tux.
He watches you with that same lazy, adoring smile.
"Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it, princess."
As the gala comes to a close, the party moves to the outside garden, with the warm autumn night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The chatter of guests mingles with the soft rustling of the trees, and the leaves have started turning shades of orange and red, but there’s still that lingering hint of summer in the air—a warmth that keeps the chill at bay.
There is a sense of awe in the way that the string lights twinkle above the garden, casting a soft glow over the crowd—and you stand beside Satoru amongst the masses, the warmth of his hand in yours.
But… for some reason there’s a certain energy radiating from him—something… different. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this last hour—a muted tension, almost like he’s… distracted?
“Satoru,” you ask softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “You okay?”
He blinks, pulled out of whatever thoughts were clouding his mind, and turns to you with a soft smile.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” leaning in, his lips peck your temple, “just thinkin’.”
You raise an eyebrow, curiosity bubbling up inside you.
Thinking about what?
But before the words can leave your lips, the auctioneer from earlier approaches you, a bright smile on his face.
“Ah, Miss y/n, there you are,” he begins. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the event this year. I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your win tonight. Here is your necklace—it truly is one-of-a-kind.”
He holds out a sleek black box, and your eyes light up as you take it from him.
“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking forward to this.”
You accept the box eagerly, your fingers moving quickly to open it, and the moment the necklace comes into view, your eyes widen. The jewels glimmer under the soft glow of the garden lights—with the intricately delicate curves and sparkling stones exuding an elegance that immediately captivates you.
“It’s even more stunning in person,” you breathe out, running your fingers over the smooth, polished metal.
Satoru peers down at the necklace in your hand, his lips curling into a subtle smirk.
“Mmm… well you fought well for it,” he teases lightly.
The auctioneer chuckles, nodding in agreement. “It was quite the bidding war. Congratulations once again, Miss y/n.” With a courteous nod, he steps back into the crowd, leaving you and Satoru alone under the twinkling garden lights.
As you turn to face Satoru, a victorious grin tugs at the corner of your lips. Holding the necklace up, you boast proudly.
“Told ya Mei-Mei didn’t stand a chance”
You’re relieved how the comment seems to make your typical Satoru return—his lips curl into a deep smirk and amusement dances in his bright eyes.
“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow, “You certainly went to war for this, huh?”
“Absolutely,” you playfully huff, lifting your chin proudly. “But, let’s be honest—you did an amazing job designing it. So of course, there was no way I was letting it go. It was all mine from the start.”
He hums softly, and just as quickly as it appeared, his cocky edge easily fades into something more tender. His gaze lingers on you, making your heart skip a beat.
“Yeah well… what can I say?” he tilts his head, “I know my girl’s taste.”
My girl.
You can’t help the gentle smile that breaks across your face, your heart swelling
“You do,” you whisper softly. “I love it.”
For a moment, the world fades away as you hold his gaze—a tenderness swirling in the familiar blue depths of his eyes. Then, he takes a small step closer.
“Here,” he murmurs, taking the necklace from your hand, “let me help you put it on.”
You nod as he moves behind you, and you hold your breath as his fingers delicately brush your skin—gathering your hair to one side. A soft shiver shoots down your spine from his touch, and he lingers while fastening the clasp around the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace settles against you, but it’s the warmth of his hands that hold your attention.
After fastening the clasp with a quiet focus, his breath fans lightly over your ear as he leans in.
“There. It’s perfect.”
You raise your hand, lightly touching the pendant now resting against your collarbone, and turn to face him. His eyes aren’t on the necklace though—they’re entirely on you.
He takes a moment, letting his gaze travel over your face before meeting your own.
“You’re absolutely stunning,” he says softly, “I think it looks even better on you than I imagined.”
Your heart flutters wildly and his fingers tuck a stray lock of your hair gently behind your ear. Leaning in slightly, you melt as he pulls you in for a tender kiss. The warmth of his lips moves slowly, languidly against yours, and your hand comes up to rest against his chest—feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Just as your lips part, your eyes flicker up to meet his. There is an intensity in his gaze that catches you off guard, making your breath hitch.
Why? Why does it feel like there is something simmering beneath the surface with him tonight?
But before you can sit on that thought any more, the speakers crackle to life, breaking the quiet intimacy and drawing your attention back to the event.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your incredible generosity tonight!” the announcers voice echoes through the garden. “I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s charity gala has raised an astounding amount—thanks to your support, we’ve reached over two million dollars to benefit our causes!”
Applause erupts from the crowd below, and you turn your head, listening, but your eyes flicker back to Satoru, whose demeanor shifts ever so slightly as he listens. His jaw tightens, and his gaze turns distant for a moment. It's like he’s suddenly lost in thought.
What is up with him tonight?
“And now,” the announcer continues, “to wrap up this wonderful evening, we invite you to stay and enjoy the grand firework show, which will begin in just five minutes. Thank you again for attending, and have a magical night!”
The speakers cut off with a soft crackle, and the garden fills with clapping and cheers. Yet, as you glance at Satoru, he remains in his own world. Just as you’re about to open your mouth, Suguru suddenly swings into view, his arm draping casually over Satoru’s shoulder—oblivious to the lingering tension.
“There you are!” he chimes in with a grin. Satoru clears his throat, and they exchange a quick knowing glance between each other and your brow furrows as a subtle tension begins to crackle between them.
“Mind if I steal Satoru for a quick minute?” he turns, grinning to you—but there’s an undercurrent of something more serious beneath his demeanor.
Okay… is there something going on? Whatever it is, it feels like you’re being left out of the loop.
“Uh, yeah… sure,” you watch them step a few paces away, murmuring quietly to one another—catching glimpses of their expressions. Satoru looks unconventionally nervous as Suguru’s lips move quickly. Unusual…whatever they’re discussing, it’s clearly important to have Satoru on edge.
You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow as you watch the two of them.
What on earth are they plotting now?
After a few moments, they return. Satoru’s still got that charged energy, but there’s a determination in his eyes. Suguru, on the other hand, is grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“What’s going on?” you ask, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Oh, y’know, charity event stuff. Nothing too serious.” Suguru shrugs.
Riiiight… he’s clearly not going to give you any more information.
You narrow your eyes at him but before you can press further, Satoru reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Suguru, catching the subtle tension, clears his throat and flashes you both a wide grin.
"Well, see you guys around," he says casually, waving flippantly. "I’m gonna grab one last drink before the fireworks start."
As he turns on his heel and walks away, Satoru’s hand gently tugs at yours, pulling you in the opposite direction—away from the crowd, away from the noise.
"C’mon," he murmurs, voice soft, almost hesitant.
You follow him, his hand gently guiding you towards a quiet stairwell that leads up to the venue’s balcony. But just as you approach the stairs, an event organizer steps into your path, clipboard in hand. She looks frazzled, her brow furrowed with stress.
"Oh! Mr. Gojo," she says, breathless, walking right up to the two of you. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’re finalizing some last-minute details regarding the auction earlier, and we really need—"
Before she can finish, Shoko appears seemingly out of nowhere, sliding up beside the woman with a smooth grin.
“Ah, don’t worry about them,” Shoko interrupts flawlessly, throwing an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “I’ve got it handled.”
The event organizer blinks, clearly taken aback, but Shoko doesn’t give her a moment to protest. Instead, she steers the woman gently back toward the crowd, already launching into some topic you can’t hear.
As they walk away, Shoko glances back at Satoru, giving him a subtle nod and mouthing “go” before disappearing into the crowd.
You raise an eyebrow, but before you can process the exchange, Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile as he tugs on your hand, already leading you up the stairs.
“What was that about?” you ask, glancing back down at Shoko’s retreating figure.
“Oh y’know… Shoko being Shoko,” he chuckles with a shrug, but there’s a nervousness to his laugh—something you’ve never heard from him before.
You narrow your eyes playfully, about to ask more, but the view from the top of the balcony cuts off your train of thought—leaving you breathless.
It’s draped in soft, glowing lights, casting a warm amber hue over the garden stretching out below. Elegant vines with autumn-colored leaves weave through the steel railings, and a gentle breeze carries with it the scent of the distant garden flowers—chrysanthemums, marigolds, and asters—a lingering warmth of late summer giving way to autumn.
The night sky sprawls out before you like an infinite canvas—stars twinkling faintly—but it's the stillness and beauty of this shared moment that makes your heart flutter. Then, the first firework shoots up into the air with a soft whistle.
It arcs gracefully against the night sky before erupting into a dazzling cascade of golden sparks, raining down like glittering stardust. You marvel how the garden below transforms into a dreamscape of warm, glowing embers. Then, another follows, this time a burst of deep red. The colors ripple and shimmer, fading into soft blues and purples, mixing like watercolors against the canvas of the night sky.
But as you stand there, entranced by the beauty of the fireworks, you slowly begin to realize that Satoru isn’t watching the sky at all.
He’s watching you.
You shift, turning your attention to him now, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous at the way he’s looking at you. Your breath hitches as he steps closer, taking your hand into his own. He lifts it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“Why aren’t you watching the fireworks?” you murmur.
The sound of the next firework shoots into the sky, cutting the quiet between you and painting the night in a burst of blue. He lowers your hand from his lips and his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion—as if memorizing the feel of you.
“Because they’re not what I want to see tonight.”
The weight of his words makes your heart swell, and the softness in his voice sends a shiver through you—but before you can respond, he reaches into his pocket, and your eyes widen as he pulls out a small velvet box.
Just as he drops to one knee, another firework explodes in the sky behind him, casting a colorful hue of violet and silver over his features.
“y/n…” he smiles steadily, eyes fixed only on you. “I know I mess around a lot, and I don’t always take things as seriously as I should, but this… this is the one thing I’ve never been more sure about in my life.”
Your breath catches as he opens the small velvet box—revealing a ring inside that is nothing short of breathtaking. The centerpiece is a brilliant-cut diamond—flawless, sparkling, and catching the light from the fireworks above—shimmering in a thousand dazzling directions. The diamond is set within a delicate band of platinum, but what makes it truly special is the intricate design surrounding it.
The band curves into an elegant, infinity loop—symbolizing the eternal bond you share. Small diamonds are delicately embedded along the loop, creating a river of light and wrapping around your finger like a never-ending promise. But the Gojo family’s infinity design isn’t just in the band—it’s in the very shape of the setting, which cradles the diamond in a way that feels both secure and limitless, a perfect balance between strength and grace.
It’s more than a ring—it’s a reflection of your love, infinite and unbreakable, meant to last forever.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ve loved you from the moment we met, and every day since has been better than the last because you’re by my side. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to.”
Your chest tightens and tears begin to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. As his words sink into your heart, time seems to slow.
“So…” he takes a deep breath, his smile widening, “will you marry me?”
Another firework explodes overhead, filling the sky with shimmering gold and blue, but you barely hear it.
The only thing that matters in this moment is him.
Your tears spill over as you choke out the words, nodding quickly.
“Yes… yes, of course.”
And in that moment, the joy that spreads across his face is radiant—a pure, unfiltered happiness that lights up his entire expression. His hands, normally so steady, tremble ever so slightly as he slips the ring onto your finger.
With the ring in place, Satoru stands, and before you can say a word, he pulls you into his arms—lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in celebration. The sky explodes with bright colors as your shared laughter sings alongside the symphony of lights.
Your face buries into his shoulder as you laugh through the happy tears spilling down your cheeks—overwhelmed by the sheer joy of it all as you cling to him—as if nothing else in the world matters.
“I love you,” you whisper, muffled by his shoulder.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes shimmer with emotion. Then, his smile softens, and a thumb comes up to gently brush away a tear still clinging to your cheek.
“I love you too,” he murmurs, “for infinity.”
The words wrap around you like a promise, as real as the ring now on your finger. His lips find yours, and the rest of the world fades away. The fireworks are coming to an end, and while the final bursts fill the sky behind you, painting the horizon in brilliant shades of color—it’s the warmth of Satoru’s arms, his love, and the promise of forever, that truly lights up your world—like none other.
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a/n. i feel like i went through all the emotions writing this fic lol! i was in a very smutty mood, but also in a very fluffy mood 🥰 anyways, this was super fun to create—it's not entirely halloween-esque but i guess it kind of is at the same time? 😛 i do wanna thank my amazing friend @strychnynegirl for sparking all the inspiration and helping me with this 💕 she's amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without her. thanks so much for reading ya'll ✨
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tags: @fushitoru @lovebittenbyevans @genshingeeksworld @myahfig4
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dksfml · 3 months ago
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Love 119 [Part One]
part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part two] [part three]
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pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: workplace tension, constant bickering, fluff (trust me) word count: 2.7k summary: jungwon and you made it a habit to constantly be at each other's throats, especially in the emergency room. while he barked orders, you fired back just as fiercely. but once the doors closed, the tension shifted into a warm intimacy that only you two knew. author's note: self-indulgent fic because i've seen no one writing this trope
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The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip behind the skyline when the call came in—an emergency at a construction site on the outskirts of the city.
Jungwon barely had time to glance at his watch before he was in motion, his team falling in line behind him as the sirens wailed and the ambulance tore through the city streets.
Arriving at the site, chaos greeted them. Workers were clustered around a man lying motionless on the ground, his hard hat cracked and discarded nearby, dust and debris littering the air. Jungwon’s jaw tightened, taking in the scene in a flash. This wasn’t good.
“Let’s move,” he barked, his tone sharp but calm, his team already spreading out as they grabbed the necessary equipment from the ambulance.
He strode forward with an authoritative air, his well-built frame and broad shoulders drawing more than a few eyes from the construction workers, some of whom were openly staring at him, their faces filled with a mix of concern and awe.
“Step back, please,” Jungwon said firmly but politely, the workers quickly making way as he knelt down beside the injured man.
His dark hair, just a bit tousled from the rush, caught the light, and the sharp angles of his jawline seemed even more pronounced against the backdrop of the gritty site. His team watched him with admiration; Jungwon always exuded this calm, confident charm that somehow made even the most panicked scenes feel manageable.
Jungwon quickly assessed the man’s condition. The patient was unconscious, his breathing shallow. One of his teammates handed over the stethoscope, and Jungwon listened intently to the faint sounds of the man’s breathing. His brow furrowed.
“Possible head trauma. We’ve got low oxygen saturation,” he muttered under his breath, signaling for the oxygen mask as his hands moved swiftly yet delicately over the man’s body, checking for fractures and injuries.
His every move was precise, commanding attention—not just because of his skill but the way he carried himself. Even in the face of an emergency, he looked collected, like he was born to handle the pressure.
"Jungwon," his teammate called from the side, holding the patient's chart. "No significant external bleeding. We’ve got a weak pulse though, around 130, BP's borderline. We need to get him out of here fast."
Jungwon’s eyes narrowed as he nodded, quickly making a decision. “Let’s secure his airway first and immobilize his spine. We can’t risk any movement.” He made the call as he smoothly slid the oxygen mask onto the patient’s face, adjusting it with a gentleness that contrasted the urgency of the situation. His fingers brushed over the man’s wrist, checking his pulse again. A slight frown creased his forehead.
With practiced ease, his team set up a backboard to stabilize the patient, while Jungwon prepared to radio the hospital. His deep voice echoed through the dust-laden air, crisp and calm. “We’re looking at a possible internal bleed or brain injury—trauma to the head, decreased GCS. Get Y/N on standby. She’ll want to know.”
He tapped his earpiece, dialing straight into the hospital, his tone switching effortlessly into that of a strict professional.
“Y/N,” he started, his voice filled with authority as he spoke into the receiver, “we’ve got a situation here. Male, late twenties, unconscious after a fall from height—GCS is 4. We’ve administered oxygen and immobilized his spine, but he’s unresponsive. Internal injuries are likely.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, before your voice came through, crisp and all business. “Vitals?”
Jungwon rattled off the numbers, his tone growing sharper as he outlined the gravity of the situation. “BP’s dropping fast, pulse is weak, pupils uneven—one’s blown. It’s not looking good.”
“Get him here as fast as you can,” you replied, your voice steady. “We’ll be ready when you arrive. I need him in trauma two for imaging, and you better give me a detailed report when you get here.”
Jungwon rolled his eyes subtly, though no one else could hear his exasperation. “Of course, Doctor. Just make sure the room’s prepped.” His sarcasm was impossible to miss, but before you could retort, he was already motioning for his team to get the stretcher ready.
“Let’s get moving,” he said, standing up in one fluid motion, his wide shoulders casting a shadow over the patient as he signaled for the transfer. His team lifted the man onto the gurney, Jungwon guiding them every step of the way. Despite the intensity of the moment, there was something about the way he commanded the situation—his deep voice, his piercing gaze, the way he moved like a force of nature—that made even a frantic scene seem a little calmer.
Jungwon was the kind of guy people listened to, the kind of guy people looked up to. Even with the weight of the situation hanging over him, he held his head high, taking charge like it was second nature. His team moved quickly, securing the patient in the ambulance as Jungwon gave one last glance to the scene before climbing in.
“Let’s go,” he said firmly, and with the wail of sirens, they sped off toward the hospital.
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Jungwon stormed through the emergency room doors with a sense of purpose, his jaw clenched as he guided the gurney toward the trauma bay. “28-year-old male, head trauma, GCS of 4, possible internal bleeding. Move it!” His voice boomed with authority, eyes scanning the room as the ER team sprang into action.
The chaos of the emergency room was nothing new, but today it seemed more charged than usual. The tension was thick as the nurses hurried to get the trauma room prepped, doctors barking orders as they readied themselves. And at the center of it all was you—focused, sharp-eyed, already gloved up and waiting.
The moment Jungwon and his team wheeled the patient in, your eyes met his, a silent exchange of understanding mixed with the tension that always crackled between them in moments like this. Not that anyone would’ve noticed—your constant bickering was practically a feature of every shift.
You stepped forward, your voice cutting through the noise of the room. “Trauma two is open. Let’s get him in fast!”
The team followed your lead, transferring the patient from the gurney to the hospital bed with swift efficiency. Jungwon stayed close, hands still gripping the rails of the stretcher as if he was unwilling to relinquish control.
“You took too long with the vitals report,” you said, throwing him a sharp glance. “We could’ve been in there five minutes ago.”
Jungwon’s eyes narrowed. “We did take the vitals. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d know that.”
“Excuse me?” you shot back, your gaze never leaving the patient as you worked to stabilize him. “I don’t need a paramedic trying to tell me how to do my job. We had a plan, and your delay didn’t help.”
Jungwon glared, his voice low and clipped. “Maybe if your plan didn’t waste time on unnecessary scans, we wouldn’t have needed a second round of intubation last time.”
Your hands froze for a split second before you caught yourself. You threw him a withering look. “This again? You think you can waltz in here and play doctor, Jungwon?”
“I’m not playing doctor. I’m trying to make sure you don’t screw it up.” His tone was biting, but professional, and the tension in the room rose instantly.
One of the nurses stepped back, shaking her head. “Here they go again.”
You didn’t back down, leaning closer as you adjusted the IV line. “How about you leave the doctoring to me, and I’ll leave the paramedic work to you? We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Jungwon took a breath, his expression unreadable for a moment, his frustration barely contained. “Fine. Just don’t mess it up.”
“Same to you,” you retorted, not missing a beat.
Before Jungwon could respond, one of the nurses interrupted. “Dr. Y/N, patient’s BP is dropping.”
Instantly, you refocused, the banter dropped as quickly as it had escalated. “Let’s get the trauma panel done. We need to stabilize him before moving for imaging. Prep the fluids.”
Jungwon watched you work, his arms still crossed, but he didn’t say another word. Despite the constant arguing, there was no denying that you are incredible at your job. Even in the most high-pressure situations, you were in complete control.
You worked together in tense silence, the only sounds in the room now the soft beeps of the monitors and the quiet shuffling of the medical team around them. Jungwon’s team lingered just outside, waiting for their next call, though they couldn’t help but glance back inside the room occasionally, accustomed to the combative exchanges between Jungwon and you.
As the patient’s vitals finally stabilized, you took a step back, letting out a quiet breath. “We’re clear to take him to imaging now. Good work, everyone,” you called to the team, your voice steady once more.
Jungwon uncrossed his arms, walking past you toward the door. “You’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.
You narrowed your eyes at his back but said nothing. You didn’t need to. Your argument had run its course for now.
Thirty minutes later, with the patient stable and prepped for surgery, you stepped out of the trauma room, pulling off your gloves. Jungwon was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, that same tight-lipped look on his face.
“Everything go okay, or did I miss something else?” he asked, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
You glared at him. “Yeah, we managed just fine without your commentary, thanks.”
“Good,” Jungwon muttered, pushing himself off the wall and adjusting his jacket. “Maybe next time you won’t waste so much time arguing.”
“Maybe next time you’ll do your job and get out of my way,” you shot back, your voice sharp.
“You love being in control, don’t you?” Jungwon’s eyes glinted, his voice dropping low as he stepped closer. “Can’t handle someone else calling the shots, huh?”
You crossed your arms, your gaze unyielding. “I don’t need to handle anything, least of all you.”
“Trust me, I’m not asking for much,” he replied with a smirk, his voice oozing with challenge.
You scoffed, brushing past him. “Try asking for less.”
Jungwon shook his head with an exasperated sigh as he watched you walk away, but his lips twitched ever so slightly. The others on their teams didn’t even blink. This was just how the both of you were. They were used to it by now—the biting remarks, the challenges, the constant back-and-forth. Every time Jungwon’s ambulance showed up, it was only a matter of time before you and him were at each other’s throats again.
Hours later, the hospital had quieted down. The rush of the afternoon was over, and most of the staff had gone home. You and Jungwon had managed to avoid each other for the rest of your shifts, though your earlier argument still hung in the air like static.
You finally peeled off your gloves after your last appointment and scrubbed your hands clean, your mind replaying the events of the day. You were tired, drained even, but there was something about that last spat with Jungwon that wouldn’t stop gnawing at you. Maybe it was the way he always had a smug retort ready or how he never backed down from your challenges.
Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “Annoying paramedic,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing your coat and heading out of the ER.
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Your apartment wasn’t far from the hospital, a quiet space tucked away from the noise of the city. By the time you have arrived, your exhaustion had fully settled in, your body craving rest.
You pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of faint rustling from the kitchen.
“Rough day?” a familiar voice asked, soft and warm.
You smiled, the tension from earlier melting away. There, standing in the kitchen in the same paramedic uniform that had driven you crazy just hours ago, was Jungwon. His hair was a little disheveled now, his expression soft and boyish, the strict leader of the paramedic team completely gone.
“You have no idea,” you murmured, walking over to him, your eyes catching on his broad shoulders, still defined under the crisp lines of his uniform. Jungwon turned around, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you see his easy smile, so different from the sharp tone he used at work.
Without another word, Jungwon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. The scent of antiseptic still clung to his uniform, mixed with the faintest hint of his cologne. You closed your eyes and let yourself melt against him, the weight of the day slipping away. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric, and sighed softly.
“You’re lucky I put up with you,” he teased, reaching for your hand and pulling your close. “Even after you yelled at me for no reason.”
“I didn’t yell for no reason,” you protested, but your voice had lost all its sharpness, softened by the warmth of being home. You leaned against his chest, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, maybe I did. But only because you deserved it.”
Jungwon chuckled, his arms wrapping around you more tightly. “Sure, I deserved it. You really hate me that much, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind it as you melted into his embrace. “The worst,” you muttered, though your fingers played with the collar of his uniform.
Jungwon smirked, resting his chin on top of your head. “Good thing we’ve got the whole night to make up for it, then.”
“You’re still in your uniform,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside, your mind was in chaos. His broad shoulders. The way he held you. The authority he exuded at work seemed to linger here, too, but only just enough to make your heart race.
Jungwon chuckled, his hand moving up to cup the back of your head. “I thought you liked me in uniform.”
You groaned, your cheeks flushing. “Stop it. I’m tired.”
“Liar,” he teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His own softened as he took in your face, the familiar tenderness filling his gaze. “You love it.”
And he wasn’t wrong. As strict and commanding as you could be at work, here with him, you couldn’t help but feel weak in his arms. You were whipped for him in every sense of the word, even if you would never admit it out loud.
Jungwon kissed the top of your head, his earlier bravado fading into a gentle affection. “Come on. Let’s get you out of these scrubs and cuddle.”
You let out a soft laugh, the kind that only he ever got to hear. “You’re the one who’s going to change first. That uniform’s distracting.”
“I knew it,” he grinned, but without missing a beat, he started peeling off his jacket, revealing the tight black undershirt beneath that highlighted his lean muscles. You had to look away before you lost yourself completely.
As you settled onto the couch, your limbs tangled together in the quiet of their apartment, the world outside felt a million miles away. In here, there were no patients to save, no colleagues to impress, no reputations to uphold. It was just the both of you.
Jungwon nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his earlier strictness replaced by a cuteness that only you got to see. “You’re such a pain at work, you know that?”
You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so easy yourself.”
And just like that, the bickering, the tension, all of it faded away. Because here, in your shared apartment, away from the chaos of the ER and the expectations of their coworkers, you were just you and Jungwon—no titles, no arguments. Just two people who loved each other, even if you never let anyone else know.
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[part two] [part three]
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norikuna · 2 months ago
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SALVATORE — jujutsu kaisen x reader minors dni
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prologue. → going on summer vacations with the jjk men and things get a little...hotter?
pairings. satoru gojo x afab!reader / suguru geto x afab!reader / nanami kento x afab!reader / choso kamo x afab!reader / ryomen sukuna x afab!reader / toji fushiguro x afab!reader
warnings+. non-sorcerer/jujutsu au, from the back, exhíbitíonism, mild food play, ríding, máting press, creámpíe, against the wall, oral (f. receiving), fíngeríng, hey even in a cave! reader is called good girl, princess, baby, darling, my love.
word count. 4.1k! song inspiration. salvatore — lana del rey
a/n. update #1 writing this fic had me looking up shit on wikipedia pages abt cities around the world, had me checking meteorology maps...tried to choose cities i've been to but i was still racking my brains. update #2 btw whenever i write smut like this i'm filled with outstanding self awareness and minor shame but thats the fun of it 😭 this is day no.3 of me trying to rewrite this all from scratch update #3 day 4! fawkkkk i wanna go on holiday too now. lmao if i was in the sukuna one, i would have been mad as hell, istanbul is stunning <3
mp3. everything looks better from above my king, like aqua marine, ocean's blue
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TOJI FUSHIGURO — all the lights in miami begin to gleam 📍 miami, america
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"o-oh, fuck. think she's really tellin' me to keep going like this, don'tcha think?"
your boyfriend is mean when he's like this. sharp, jade eyes narrowed as they take in the sight of your puffy folds swallowing him up over and over as he's stuffing himself into your sticky walls. and if you turn your head away, from where you're smashed against the pillow, you can see the floor-to-wall ceilings of the high-rise penthouse that offers an uninterrupted view of miami's glittering skyline.
"how - how, did you even get this place, hah, toji?" it's a wonder you can even get a coherent sentence out right now, your guts are practically being stuffed with inches of your boyfriend's veiny cock, and it's leaving you, well, delirious.
but with humble credit and thanks to what you can assume is your own nasty grip, toji's not faring much better either. his brawny frame is practically shuddering, and while you can't see his face in this position, you're certain that a sharp canine has sunk into his lip, and his breath is coming out in hulking groans.
"heh, you're n-not meant to ask questions like that, princess? gotta, ohhh, gotta keep some business s-secrets up my sleeve, huh?" and he's practically a beast right now, handling you on all fours of this king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets the colour of red wine, "just a reward for a-, haah, a job well done."
any job well done from toji was most likely something illegal, but you can't even bring yourself to care, not when there's a bucket of chilled champagne on the glass table to your left, and certainly not when his fat cock is smearing right through you, leaving a coil in your abdomen that only he can unravel.
you whine, feeling the fat tip of his cock practically rummage and make a home in your cunt, "toji, wan' more," and you're pushing the plush of your ass against his pumping hips, and you hear his sharp intake of breath.
a rough hand has snaked underneath you, creating a small gap between you and the bunched-up fabric on the bed, and his callous fingertips are now circling sloppy, messy circles over your clit, leaving you bucking in his hold.
"n-now, stay still, princess. not done with you yet."
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SUGURU GETO — ciao, amore. soft ice-creams. 📍 amalfi coast, italy
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you're not sure how long you've been trembling under suguru's mouth, but it must have been an eternity under the ministrations of his tongue.
the sun has been blazing high, casting a golden glow over this part of the private beach, hidden away from the towns bustling with tourists like yourselves who had descended upon the coast for the summer.
soft waves lapped in ebbing waves, the rhythm breaking the perfect stillness of the afternoon, in this wooden cabana, separated from the terracotta villas.
and no, your mind was nowhere near admiring the turquoise waters of the ocean, but rather your lover's mouth practically exploring every inch of your cunt like this.
the tapered tip of his tongue had long been probing around your fluttering pussy, taking in every last drop of your pearlescent luster that was practically dripping over his chin.
not to mention the absolutely sticky and languid trails of melting ice-cream, each biting cream drop that fell on your hot swollen folds getting promptly cleaned up by the one who was enjoying this sweet game.
"shhh! don't wanna get kicked off this beach, do ya, pretty?"
and suguru looks positively devious, his violet eyes gleaming with crude intent. his black hair is a tangled mess, long locks falling victim to your clawing nails that tumble carelessly over his bare back, kissed by the sun and glowing with a soft, rosy pink hue.
and when he smiles, the sunlight catches onto his lips, making the slick on his mouth sparkle and wink up at you.
"been - it's been an entire hour by now, can't you just let me cum," you huff, closing the plush of your thighs around his ears, boxing him in.
geto flashes you a mischievous grin, running a slow finger through your sopping folds, and lightly brushing over your entrance as you mewl again.
"where would the fun in that be, pretty?" he murmurs, "love seeing how wet this cunt gets for me, need to let me have my fun."
what a devil. clearly, getting under your skin is a sport for him.
you're hardly given a moment to breathe before he's jostling two thick digits right into the thick of it once more, in and out, in and then out, as his thumb find its home on the slope of your bare mound again.
"besides, we can take it slow for 'nother hour, can't we?" and now suguru's toying with your clit, and his teeth lean down to graze the swollen, throbbing bud, "gotta see just how much you can beg for me."
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NANAMI KENTO — catch me if you can, working on my tan 📍 gold coast, australia
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"w-wait, darling," nanami shudders under your touch, under your fresh set of nails raking small patterns over his neck, "anyone could just walk past here, y'know."
you curl your lip, before pressing your mouth in an open mouthed kiss to his stretched neck, warm and flushed.
you can feel the galloping thrum of his pulse beneath your lips, the heat almost intoxicating, mingling with the faint tang of the pool water's chlorine, and the scent of banksia and frangipanis in the air.
you can also feel his thick cock dragging through your walls, as you ram the weight of your hips over and over again. it seems like the shimmering skyline of surfer's paradise was just what nanami needed, after months of work, and you're determined to make the most of your time here.
he's got you bouncing practically like a ragdoll, heavy balls swinging up and smacking your skin in what little space remains between the two of you, and he's panting into your chest, "whatd'ya gonna do if someone sees?"
"mhm, don' care, no-one's here, nanami."
his broad arms loop around you in the pool chair, as you straddle the sizeable bulge that's making a tent in his briefs, "nasty, sometimes, aren'tcha?"
you smile, as your husband's large hands roam over your back, making you arch your back into his touch — as he deftly pulls at the tight knot holding your damp bikini top together.
"ah, don't get shy now. let me see these," and you can only nod hazily as he lets your tits spill out, and press up against his bare, chiselled torso, "wanted this so bad, just a minute ago, yeah?"
"s-still want this," and for good measure, you grind your hips down over his cock with even more pressure, feeling him jolt with a quiet 'fuck!' underneath you.
"haah, that's not fair, darling," and he's crashing his weeping, curved tip so far into you, that you're certain you're seeing stars on the saltwater horizon, "what happened to playing nice?"
you know you should be weary of the flicker of challenge that glints in his stern brown eyes, softened by the haze of your squelching cunt, "do y-your worst, otherwise what? can't keep up?"
a cocky smile curves over his mouth, and that's the wave of satisfaction you were looking for, hoping that he'd take the bait.
he leans further back in the pool chair, now with an arm wrapped lazily around your gyrating hips, but you can feel his grip tighten, stealing the humid air right out from under you, "we'll see who can't play nice when you're begging for my cock to fill you up."
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CHOSO KAMO — all the lights are sparkling for you, it seems 📍santorini, greece
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"hey, shh, shhh..."
choso's voice is a low rumble as he glides his thick, leaking tip down your slick core, and you shiver as the cool ocean breeze mixes with the warm slick gathering between your bodies, "w-wow, you're doing so good, handling it so well, my love."
you must have made a good choice, choosing this suite. one carved seamlessly into the tan-rock of one of the island's famous caves. and well, your sweet boyfriend has been fucking you so incredibly that you feel your eyes start to water, blear away from the pretty blue and terracotta accents on the mantelpiece.
his girthy cock sinking into you send shivers to your pussy that leave you fluttering and squeezing around him tighter, clenching around the veins as he sinks even deeper, so the thickened head is practically kissing your cervix, and filling you in ways you didn’t know were possible.
"d-does it feel good for you too, cho?” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the soft choppy strands that fall around his shoulders, "this...this is what you wanted, right, baby?"
the pale mauve of his lips curves into a faint smile, and despite the sharpness of his thrusts making a home in your gummy walls, there's a tenderness in his shadowed, hazel eyes as his palm glides down your torso, cupping your tits gently, "w-would go anywhere in the world, if it was with you."
and he's looking at you with such love that you just cannot help but believe him when he says, no, shudders out a "you're so beautiful."
the sound of the water lapping against the rocks below fills the room, mixing with your soft whimpers, as the slow roll of choso's hips leave your puffy folds weeping. the thick, throbbing head of his cock brushes against your g-spot, right there, and you moan, lost in the sensation.
"god, y-you’re so good at this," he breathes into your ear, his voice hoarse and strained, and suddenly far more shaky, "ah - could do this forever."
"w-will you?" you whisper, eyes fluttering as you lose yourself in what is surely ropes of stringy white cum painting you lovingly inside, "wan' feel you all the time, cho."
choso's misty, flushed gaze locks onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your heart race, and fireworks shoot through your abdomen, "think you're g-gonna be my wife someday, yeah?"
you bite your lip, a shy smile painting your face despite the way that he's practically jostling inch after inch into your pussy, pressing into you like a vice, "really mean t-that, cho?"
"ahh, 'course i do," he shudders, brushing a thumb down the swan-arch of your neck, "now, hold onto me."
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RYOMEN SUKUNA — dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily 📍istanbul, turkey
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"huhh, oh my god! you're an animal," you huff at your fiancé, who's currently sprawled on the plush bed underneath your straddling thighs, under the sheer curtains that billow softly in the warm breeze from the open latticework windows.
and right now, sukuna looks like a mess.
and it brings you a great deal of satisfaction to see your usually composed and aloof fiancé so undone and disheveled, as he grins up at you — the black markings on his face creasing with the movement.
his rosy-pink hair is a tangled heap, but you can't resist running your fingers through the short, tousled spikes.
and his lips, which have been marking you up consistently for the past ten minutes, gleam glossy and full, as his crimson eyes lock onto yours with the smug satisfaction of a cat who's gotten its way.
he'd barely waited a mere minute after the two of you had arrived back to your hostel's room, from a whirlwind tour of the sultanahmet district, before he had pounced on you, and had practically tore your long skirt off.
you don't quite think it's worth mentioning that you've been pawing equally at your boyfriend in the same time as well, pulling his thick and lengthy shaft out of the confines of his boxers, and swiping a thumb over the angrily-gleaming tip.
"d-didn't even take a second to think about all the places we just saw? the history lessons, and - sukuna, were you even listening?"
by now, you're fighting back heaving shivers at the way the pads of his calloused fingers run under your top.
"hah! yeah, yeah. history and all that," he murmurs, low and amused, but his focus is clearly elsewhere, his lips now resuming their previous task of snapping at your torso, letting pretty berry-red marks beam.
you roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of your own glossy mouth, "y-you're impossible," and you try not to squirm as his forefinger and thumb on each hand pinch at a nipple under your top, "don' even know why i bothered bring this...this camera around. the guide said that these sights were o-once, oh fuck, sukuna, get a grip, said the sights were once-in-a-lifetime b-breathtaking."
"breathtaking, huh?" sukuna shifts closer to you, scooting you further over his wide lap, and his voice has dropped to a low and sultry whisper that sends a shiver down your spine, and leaves you aching, "i think you're breathtaking. wan' explore this," and here, he snaps at the elastic band of your lace panties, "instead."
"and besides, i was listening," and now, he's patting his sculpted, exposed thighs behind the plush of your ass on him, "the guide said that this city straddles two continents."
he's emphasising his words with a deliberate tap, clearly hoping you'd catch the awful word-play.
"say something like that again, and i'm booking the next flight home."
"hah, so now you hate it when i am cultured."
by now, his two rough hands kneading at you has left you...airless. thick heat has been pooling in your core, and you just can't help but let out a soft whimper, "sukuna…only wanted y-you to focus."
he shakes his messy head, laughter rumbling deep in his chest, under thick pectoral muscles, "no can do, brat. you’re my focus now. done enough sightseeing outside today, wanna do something inside."
"you’re impossible!" but you gasp as he skims a thumb over your cloying, dewy clit, making you jolt.
you know he must be in a rare, mellowed mood because he breathes, "impossibly in love with you," and it's quiet, teasing as the heat of his breath ghosts over your skin, "now tell me how much you want this, and maybe i'll think about giving you a different type of lesson."
franky, by now you want nothing more than to be filled with heavy, hot inches that curl into you, sloshing their way to the most sensitive spot of all, and sukuna must see that on your face.
"i -," you begin, but the words falter as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and the weeping tip of his cock taps against the wet pool staining your underwear darkly translucent.
"just say it, brat. tell me how bad you want it, i'll even be nice this time," he urges, his voice a sultry purr, "just gon' give it to you as you ask, yeah?"
"wan' you in me, 'kuna," you finally admit, breathless, "i want you so much it hurts."
"good girl," he mutters, his eyes darkening with desire. "now you're getting the right idea."
you sigh, content, but then still your rocking hips suddenly, "but after this, we're still going out to the bazaar for dinner."
"for fuck's sake."
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GOJO SATORU — like a boss, you sang jazz and blues 📍paris, france
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you're not quite sure where exactly you should be training your ears, whether you should be listening to the sultry notes of a saxophone that wrap around the plush velvet booth where you and gojo are seated.
or the thick, clingy swish of his fingers practically bullying themselves in and out of your pussy. the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars that make you wrinkle your nose, and fine whiskey (that makes gojo wrinkle his nose) and the sweet tang of your own slick, privately, just for the two of you.
your boyfriend sits close to you, his left hand tight on your waist, and the other working a fine instrument, bunching up underneath your ysl silk dress.
"baby, look at how your perfect cunt's talkin' to me," he's whispering, and you can hear the sheer glee in his voice, his breath hot against your ear.
meanwhile, your jaw is slack and you're doing your best to not meet his touch with a sultry, rhythmic grind of your own hips, but the knot is quickening and tightening within you.
but gojo just smiles, and you can see the blue in his eyes darken underneath his sunglasses that have slipped slightly down the slope of his nose, "but can't have everyone hearing this melody, can we? might think you were the main fuckin' attraction for the night and not -" he cocks his head to the quartet serenading the paris night sky, and the other patrons of this filthy wealthy club.
you just sink your teeth into your painted lip, suppressing a whine as he curls three fingers within you, reeling you entirely pliant and having you lean against his broad chest under his jacket, "b-but satoru, 'm getting close."
he's being awful, you think. and when he had pulled his hand out earlier, it had been entirely coated in a ribbon of your arousal, the slow syrup beginning to run down his slender digit, but he had parted his lips and let not a drop go to waste on his tongue.
the music is swelling, it's a jazzy crescendo that fills the air, and your gaze hazes and wonders, focusing on the open window where the eiffel tower stands ablaze in lights. soft gasps are escaping your lips, when gojo starts slamming his fingers up and up further, right up to his glossy knuckle, clearly searching for your g-spot.
and you are so glad that this booth is turned away from the rest of the club's patrons, for if they saw you, it would be no secret as to what exactly was going on underneath your gown.
"focus on me, love. just focus on how you're soaking me."
he's pressing his fingers impossibly deeper, stroking your walls in a way that make it impossible to think of anything else but him.
"gojo, please…" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice low, "what if someone sees?"
he laughs, pressing his mouth to your neck, and you know he's inhaling the new scent that you had picked up at the luxury flagship stores earlier, his treat.
"let them. paid good enough money to get in here," and now he's getting more insistent, practically ravishing your aching pussy now, "besides, they wanna say anything about it? i'll cut out their tongue."
"p-pretty sure that's, mmph, i'm sure that's i-illegal, 'toru."
"don't want your pretty head thinking about anything else right now, 'kay?" and god, it's one of life's greatest works, how he just knows how to work his magic like this, and the way that he's pinching, rolling and twirling his fingers has you convinced that the holy six-eyes technique, passed down in the sacred tradition of the gojo clan, is being put to nasty work.
sure enough, a little spark! there, and a bigger zap! against your clit practically confirms your suspicions, as does the unearthly glow you catch in gojo's wide eyes, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards a precipice, panting open-mouthed against him.
"dirty girl, you don’t want to make a scene, do you?" he says this like he was not the one who pulled you into this booth, and palmed his way up your slip-dress. like he's not the one who tore into your lace panties, and shoved them into his pocket.
"it feels so good, satoru,” you babble, barely able to contain yourself, as he scissors his fingers wide, nudging your walls apart, "i can’t — "
"then don't," he interrupted, his voice low and commanding, "just let it happen. i want to hear you, i wanna hear her too, but only if you can keep it down."
you nodded, breathless, watching as waiters in impeccable black-and-white attire glide between the tables, carrying trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and glasses of dom pérignon.
"good girl," he murmured, his fingers curling just right, pushing you closer to that exquisite precipice, "now, be quiet and enjoy the moment."
just as he pinches your clit, you feel everything around fall away in shattering starfall. bolts of lightning shoot and splash through your lungs, stilling your heart, leaving your cunt pulsing with a life of its own, fluttering against satoru's fingers which still haven't stopped.
it's only then you realise that the band has stopped playing, and the other patrons of the clubs are leaning out of their seats, slapping their hands together in fervount applause.
but you can only stare, dazed and boneless from the remnants of an excellent fucking orgasm, as gojo leans in, just over the shell of your ear.
"how about we go back to the hotel room? wanna see an encore?"
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