#Smut next time I promise

[hazelfoureyes]

Aftercare?

it isn’t a part 2 to The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (A Valentino Production) , its a side story. but if you haven’t read it this won’t make sense. Just a lovely little errand I imagine Alastor would take after the reader returned to earth. If your name is Sara and you haven’t read the story, this will sound like a threat. It’s not smut but its still gives me joy 🐴

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

Blitz spewed coffee over his horse figurines when Alastor rose from a shadow on his I.M.P. office floor.

“Holy fucking shit balls. Mr. Radio Demon, your excellen— your uh, your hi- your murde- murderessness? Murde-“

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

“I would have prepared something or tidied up if I had KNOWN YOU WERE COMING, FOR FUCKS SAKE MOXIE!”

Moxie shook the coffee off of his phone, “Sir how could I have known he was coming before you did? I was with you the whole time! He travels by pools of shadow!”

“Moxie if I had a dick for every excuse you gave me I could finally fuck the daddy issues outta you.”

“That is… so inappropriate to say to someone,” Moxie winced. Alastor cleared his throat, giving his microphone a tap. “Oh! Sorry. What can we do for you?” Moxie couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice.

Blitz spoke first,“Not to be rude or anything Alasstor-“

Alastor’s eyelid twitched, “Alastor.”

“Yeah that’s what I said. We unalive living humans. The people not here.” Blitz gestured vaguely around. “Not really pride ring overlord shit.”

“Do you think,” the lights flickered, “I would travel all the way here,” Moxie covered his ears as the frazzled laughter of a broadcast studio audience buzzed around them, “if I wasn’t well aware of what you do?” 

Blitz scooped his horses into his arms and took cover under his desk, Alastor’s shadow bending over the top and down the wall, casting the room in darkness save two glowing red eyes. “I am— so fucking dumb. Just give us the deets and consider them dead!”

Alastor’s voice crackled from the darkness, “Her name is Sara.”

༻Masterlist༺

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch2

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter (wip)

warnings: NSFW, more substance use in this one, a bit of angst?, readers emotional issues

a/n: i feel like my writing sucks esp in this chapter cause im sorta rusty and sick so i cant even tell if this makes sense but oh well😭😭😭 anyway pls send me hazbin reqs!!!!! having the worst brainrot lately esp for this horrible man!!!

wc: 2.9k

“I'm not breaking up inside / I'm much to proud to moan / Baby, please come home”

Oh my god. What did I just do? Why did I do this?

You turn your head to look at Adam where he’s lying on the other side of the bed, and find his expression closely mirrors your own. Pure disbelief is written on his features, and you grimace, turning to look back at the ceiling.

After a moment, you sit up, grabbing your box of cigarettes and a lighter off your bedside table. Once lit, you swing your feet off the bed to reach for shirt and now ripped panties, standing up when you’re partially dressed. You hear Adam sit up behind you.

“Soo, that was… uhhh…” He trails off, mouth hanging open as he thinks of what to say.

“Let’s… not speak about this again,” You say carefully as you turn back to face him.

“Yeah. yeah, i’m good with that,” He says quickly, finding his robes off the floor. You’re surprised he doesn’t say anything about the smoke.

You cross the room to get your pants off the floor, pulling them up as Adam grabs his jacket. You pull up your fly, and look up to see Adam’s staring at you with an expression you can’t read. His eyes flicker to your lips, and he starts to lean closer.

“Kiss me and i’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out,” you say as you turn your head away.

“Oookay then. I’ll, uh, see ya,” For once, he has no snarky comment or crude joke to make as he straightens up and leaves your room.

After that, you told yourself never again. It happened once, it’s out of your system, it’s done. A one time thing.

But then it happens a second time.

“It’s a disgusting habit! All your clothes, your whole room fuckin’ reeks!”

“Are you tryin’ to get me to loose my temper here? ‘Cause i’m about to shove you out that fucking window!”

“And look how angry you get, you fucking fiend, it’s been like 2 hours!”

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?”

You raise an arm to hit him, but he catches your elbow, twisting you around so your back is to him and he can hold you in place. You struggle to break from his grip, when suddenly-

“Oh my god,” You deadpan, but your voice doesn’t come out as disgusted as you expected at the feeling of something hard poking into your lower back.

“Okay, this is not my fault-“ Adam says quickly.

“You- fucking perv!” You spit, but your words hold no weight when he flips you again and lifts you up, placing you on the counter and you make no effort to struggle. You spread your legs so he can slot between them as items pushed out of the way cascade off the counter, falling to the floor with loud crashes.

You then told yourself that would be the last time. But not even you fully believed yourself. And once it happened a third, fourth, and fifth time, you just accepted this is something that happens now. You’re not proud of it- some of you hates yourself, but another part of you finds a a sick, primal pleasure in it. It’s the only guaranteed way for you to get him to shut up, if only for a few minutes. The fight for dominance- fuuck you’re messed up, huh?

Thinking of the humiliation you’d feel if any of the others found out- oh god, how could you look Alastor in the eyes again- you change absolutely nothing about your behavior around Adam. On the surface, nothing has changed at all. You two still bicker and argue all the time, if anything, worse than ever. Yet the other members can feel something’s up, that something changed. Adam’s insults feel more hollow. He always said shit just to rile you up, but there was usually an undertone of truth to his words. Not anymore- it’s all stupid shit that everybody can tell he doesn’t care about. Nobody says anything about it, though, until-

“What the fuck are you smilin’ for?” Angel’s voice makes Adam jump as he enters, sitting down on the couch beside him.

“What-? I wasn’t smiling,” Adam quickly denies. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh my god- are you’re gettin’ laid?” Angel grins, sitting up. The look on Adam’s face tells him everything, and he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, you so are! No wonder you’ve been in such a good mood lately,”

“Uh, duh i’m getting laid, I’m Adam, I’m the origin-“

“Yeah, yeah, original dick. But that’s not what I mean and you know it.” Angel grins widely, and Adam can feel his face heating up. Oh god- why is he blushing? Since when does he care? He pushes the thought from his head.

“…You don’t know her,” Adam decides to say, crossing his arms and turning back to face the TV, hoping Angel will just leave it at that.

“Try me,” Angel leans closer, looking intently at Adam’s expression. When Adam says nothing, Angel laughs again.

“Oh my god I so know her,”

Adam grits his teeth but says nothing as Angel laughs.

“Okay, fine, don’t tell me who you’re havin’ weird secret kinky sex with,” Angel shrugs, turning to face the TV. “I’ll find out eventually,”

That makes Adam sweat.

You can’t help but laugh, nearly spitting whisky everywhere while Husk chuckles to himself. Sure, it’s a bit trite, ranting to the bartender about your shitty day while he pours you a stiff drink, but Husk could always make you laugh about it, and call you out on your bullshit if needed. He was real, and you liked that about him. Plus, it beat drinking alone when none of your other friends wanted to party on a Wednesday.

“-and not a crazy bitch like I’m a crazy bitch, crazy like she lit her mom’s hair on fir-“

“Husk holy shit!”

Both of you look in the direction of Angel Dust’s voice as he runs from the hallway towards you both. He leans over the bar, eager to share whatever news he had.

“Adam’s fucking somebody- somebody here!”

You choke on your whisky, spitting it back into the glass. Angel and Husk both look at you with a raised brow.

“My bad,” is all you say. you can’t think of anything else that would play it off, so you just quietly wipe off your face while Angel recounts his encounter with Adam. You feel an eye twitch- you could strangle that prick for being so conspicuous.

“You’re quiet, Y/N,” Angel says in a teasing tone.

“I just could not care less if I tried,” You say back, firmly but with a shrug, and you hope it suffices as an acceptable explanation, and that you come off as your usual apathetic self. You finish your whisky, and luckily, Angel doesn’t give you any more shit. Slightly unsettled by that interaction, you avoid Adam for the next few days.

Late one evening, everybody’s gone up to their rooms and the hotel is quiet. You’ve already eaten, smoked, brushed your teeth and put on pajamas, but there’s nothing good on TV and you’re bored and high and just want a task to keep busy. So you wander aimlessly into the kitchen and find yourself doing the dishes that Charlie was too stressed out to do earlier.

As you scrub brown charred bits off a pan, you find your stupid weed-addled brain wandering to Adam. You haven’t fought with him in a while, mostly because you’d run away before he had the chance to start, but still. It feels weird, being so calm lately. No wonder you’re bored. It’s the way things used to be at the hotel, before he arrived. You guess you hadn’t realized how used to his presence you’ve gotten. Gross. You cringe at the thought.

Luckily, your phone starts to vibrate on the counter, giving you a distraction. You pick up and hold it between your ear and shoulder without looking at the caller ID.

“Yo, where are you right now?”

Of course.

“Adam? What the fuck, when did you get a phone?” You snort. When you realize you’re smiling you clear your throat and force your face to relax.

“Whatever. Can you come upstairs?”

You pause. He sounds slightly odd.

“What, like, to your room?” You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“ohmyfuckinggod- can you not be difficult for fucking once and just do what I ask?” Then, as an afterthought, he adds “Please?”

Damn, okay. You don’t say anything for a moment, thinking maybe you’re just smacked and he’s being normal.

“Suuuure… Just uh, gimme a minute,” You say carefully, putting the dishes down. Then, he hangs up on you. What a dick.

Unbeknownst to you, while you’ve been thinking about him, he’s been thinking about you way more.

You’ve been avoiding him- obviously. Not unexpected, but it pissed him off to no end. He’s fucking Adam! Who are you to ignore him? Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on him, anyway?

By now, the others have started to accept him- including them in their plans, drinking with him, no longer leaving a room when he enters- so he doesn’t really need a chaperone anymore. Despite this, it still feels wrong. Even in a room with every other patron of the hotel, he’d started to notice when you weren’t there.

He didn’t even notice he was starting to miss you at first. It wasn’t until he and Charlie were seated at the bar, and he drank more than he probably should have, that he mentioned you were avoiding him.

“What’dya, miss her?” Husk asked.

“Awww, Adam!” He still remembers the look on her and Husker’s faces. “You are starting to change! That’s so sweet of you!”

And then because she was drunk she kept rambling about it for like 30 minutes, but he doesn’t remember the rest of what she said, just the utter humiliation he felt. He shut up for the rest of the night to avoid spilling his guts any more, but Husk- the annoying fucker- still gives him knowing looks every now and then.

And after Nifty had washed his sheets, and he’d noticed that his pillows lost the scent of cigarettes, perfume, and shampoo you’d left behind, he knew he was royally fucked.

The worst of all, though, is that he feels helpless to feeling these emotions- and even worse, he doesn’t want to stop feeling them. Before he’d even noticed it, he was thinking about you all the time, and he was fine with it. The embarrassment was killing him, even though, supposedly, nobody knew.

On this particular night, he’d probably had just a tad too much beer with his dinner, because when he’d returned to his room and flopped on his bed, there was a little bug in the back of his brain that kept whining about how empty it felt. He tossed and turned for a bit, just wanting to sleep it off, but he eventually gave up, reaching for his phone.

“Adam?” Before you’re finished knocking, Adam jumps up to get the door, pulling you inside quickly. You make a noise of surprise as he scoops you up immediately, not saying anything as he carries you to his bed.

“Damn, needy, huh?” You laugh. This time, it’s him telling you to shut up as he tosses you onto the bed and crawls over you.

You sit up slightly to help him get your shirt off, and then his lips are on your neck, trailing down to your chest as he unclips your bra.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” He says with a casual shrug as his hands run up your torso to grope at your tits.

“mm,” You hum, arching your back into his touch. “missed this?” You smile sarcastically. Missed you, he thinks.

“Sure missed these,” He pushes the thought away and grins back, squeezing your chest for emphasis. He pulls back briefly to rid himself of his own shirt, then bends back down to press more kisses to your flesh. He looks up, staring at your expression as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, reveling in the whimper he’s rewarded with.

“fuckin’ perfect tits…” He mumbles into your chest before nipping at your skin. You let your eyes shut as his free hand slides down, under the band of your shorts and his finger brushes the hot skin beneath, skimming over your lips. Adam thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat.

Impatiently, you shift your hips up to slide off your shorts and panties, then reach to tug at his belt loops to signal he should do the same. When he looks up and sees the desperate look on your face, he decides not to keep you waiting, and pulls back to rip off his pants and boxers.

You guess avoiding him these past few days has affected you, too, because you’re surprisingly desperate. You sit up, wrapping your fingers around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever he had been planning to say dies and comes out a needy garble of nonsense that makes you snicker.

To your surprise, he has no quip as he crawls over you and pushes himself between your legs. He bites back a gasp when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a groan following a moment after as he begins pushing into you.

Your thighs are trembling by the time he’s fully inside of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist weakly while you adjust to the stretch.

He sits up fully, and from this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, tears pricking in your eyes, he thinks you look more angelic than anything he ever saw in heaven.

“fuuuck,” He groans, letting his head fall onto the bed as he starts to move his hips.

“Adam!” The way you whine his name is truly sinful, and he feels his dick twitch in response.

“holyfuck, ‘s so big,” The slight burn makes you regret your impatience now, and his face makes you regret stroking his ego. You make a point to ignore his self satisfied laugh, focusing instead on how his cock stretched you open, making you to tighten and release around him. You turn your head, looking at his wicked fucked-out smile that grew wider and wider as his movements got deeper.

You can’t speak, you just moan helplessly as your hands search for anything to grab onto to steady yourself. You throw your hands around his neck and bury them in his now dark wings, in the way you always did. You gripped the feathers tightly and let out a moan and oh, god, he’s not going to last long, he thinks, with you gripping the sensitive feathers like that. He groans again, then his lips find your shoulder, where he leaves messy, open-mouthed kisses trailing towards your neck.

“so fuckin’ sexy, so, so good for me,” you barley even register that he’s speaking, with your entire focus being on the way he moved in and out of you.

“you’re- so beautiful,” he says between grunts. your eyes widen.

“wha-ahh-“ before you can question that, a particularly hard thrust makes the words die in your throat, and you’re clawing to his biceps again.

A warmth of pride erupts in your chest at the way his breathing has turned labored and his grip on you tightens. An arm snakes around your waist, the other under your head, pulling you impossibly tighter against him as he continues to desperately pound into you. The proud smirk you wore is wiped off your face when you feel one hand releases you and his hand trails down, eventually pressing a thumb your clit, rubbing small circles that make you moan and twitch beneath him.

You can’t even warn him before your whole body erupts. You spill over, you lose sense of where and who you are, all the while, Adam pounds into you, strokes you inside and out. You vaguely hear a sudden crash and him mumbling, thanking god that you came before him because seconds later, he’s spilling his own cum inside you with a broken wanton groan.

Adam stills for a moment, panting as he holds you close. When he rolls off you, he keeps one arm around you, pulling you against his chest. Huh. That’s new.

Neither of you say anything. That was… different, than you’re used to with him. You furrow your brows as you think, and find yourself confused. The cogs in your head turning something terrible in your mind, questioning his intentions.

Once you’ve caught your breath, you sit up, pushing away his arm as you go to find your clothes. He frowns, watching you pick your shirt up from the ground and pull it over your head. You looked guarded, like a cornered doe, like you were just waiting for the chance to sprint away.

Adam grabs his own boxers from the floor and pulls them on, quickly crossing the room to where you were. He looks down at you, and feels an odd, tightening in his chest, something he’s felt a lot since falling to hell.

He leans against the door, putting on a cocky smile.

“Soo… this was like a booty call, huh?”

“…Yeah, whatever. See ya,”

[sh0ek0]

miss you (part 3)

part 1, 2

genre: angst, smut, dark content, all over the place content warning: 18+ !MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! As I forgot to mention in part I + II: aged up characters OF COURSE (college setting), mentions of alcohol and drug use, name calling, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, violent behavior, emotional abuse, choking, dj!choso, rough!megumi, hints of narcissism, obvious mental problems, maddy and nate (euphoria) kinda dynamic, euphoria inspired dialogue, DARK CONTENT, I really don’t know how to do these content notes, I’m sorry, I’m trying pairing: Choso x Reader, Megumi x Reader (kinda???) word count: about 10k

A/N: I really love to include some songs that inspire me while writing, I love music (that’s such a basic thing to say lol) so if you're up for it click on the lyrics. Also I really hope this was worth the wait, I am so sorry 🫠 this is kind of all over the place, like always, but I want to stop being so critical with myself, soooooo yeah. Here you go 🤭

Everything just felt so wrong. It was so hot down here and you were constantly bumping into people. The alcohol in your blood was making you dizzy with every step you took through the crowd and it was definitely messing with your sense of balance. You felt kind of nervous, but it was your own fault.

You were the one who hid in your bed for a whole week, your anxiety now at an all-time high. 

And you were the one who accepted all those drinks that Yuji had mixed for you upstairs.

However, those drinks seemed to fulfil their promise of freeing you from your inner torment, and as soon as the people around you were starting to look a little blurry, you start to move to the loud music blaring from the speakers.

I don't ever wanna see you / And I never wanna meet you again / One thing / When you're angry, you're a jerk / And then you treat me like I'm worth nothin'

"This track goes so hard." 

You open your eyes as you hear a familiar voice screaming in your ear. You see Nobara grinning from ear to ear as she dances to the music, the parts of her body that are not covered were glistening with sweat as the fluorescent lights hit her skin. She looked so damn beautiful.

How much you loved your friends.

This time it was Maki who dragged Nobara and you along with her to a house party off campus so the three of you found yourself in some guys huge basement, loud techno music blasting from the speakers and lots of sweaty people pressing up against each other. It was hot and completely dark except for a few neon lights that made it possible to at least distinguish a few faces. 

Not a single person down here seemed to be in any real control of their senses anymore, most of them were completely out of it already, while you could only imagine what kind of drugs they had in their systems by now. But hey, it was none of your business and you wouldn't judge, so the only thing that mattered was that the three of you were having a fantastic time.

I don't ever wanna see you / And I never wanna meet you again / It’ll happen again / I watch it happen over and over again

Another thing that brought you down here to this shady basement was a rumor that this new DJ was doing a pretty good job. And you knew he was pretty cute too - from where you were standing you could see his face hidden behind a MacBook screen, his hands effortlessly dancing across the array of buttons, knobs and sliders in front of him. Watching him, his body moving in sync with the music, his head bobbing as he worked his magic, you couldn't help but notice how good he looked. His lip was visibly split from last weekend's events and the pale hint of a black eye still marked his skin, but if you were being honest, it made him look even hotter.

You find yourself staring in his direction for a second too long and before you can look away, his eyes lock with yours and you see the realization in them just seconds later.

You feel a jolt of electricity run through your veins as your eyes lock.

Choso turns his eyes back to the DJ set in front of him a few times, but each time he looks up, you can feel him searching for you in the crowd. You can feel his gaze sticking to you like the bodies of Nobara and Maki who were dancing near you.

The heat around you envelops you like a suffocating blanket, while the bass pounds through the walls, pulsing in your chest and guiding your movements.

Don't try to find me / I’m better left alone than in this / It doesn't surprise me / Do you really think that I could care? / If you really don't like me / Find somebody else, it could be anyone else out there

The next time you turn in his direction, it was you who sought his gaze, flashing him a mischievous grin as your eyes locked again. 

Choso raises an eyebrow, but the grin on his lips gives him away. He winks at you, and as you continue to watch, you notice him smiling to himself as his hands skillfully move over the equipment, fading the old track into a new one. A few people immediately start to cheer.

Say yes to Heaven / Say yes to me / If you dance I’ll dance / d-dance / I’ve got my eye on you / you / you / you

The moment you recognise the song, a squeal escapes your lips. Your hips sway effortlessly from side to side, perfectly in sync with the rhythm. Nobara has her arms loosely wrapped around your neck, joining in and mirroring your every move. 

Choso knew you loved this song. 

You fell in love with it the first time you both heard it. That was a few weeks ago in his and Yuji's apartment, you were talking about music and you told him that you absolutely adored Lana Del Rey. It seems that he didn't forget that, because he mixed the song into something completely different, but just as beautiful.

You couldn't help but think that it felt like he'd done that for you. 

But did he?

Either way, he's managed to sweep you off your feet with a little gesture like that, and you can't remember the last time a man did that for you.

It feels like hours have passed before you realise that another DJ has taken over. As the current track slowly fades out into a new one, you notice how the vibe changes and most of the people who came for something with more bpm start to leave to go back upstairs.

Nobara grabs your hand and pulls you with her, Maki follows.

"Hey, I like that song—", you protest but Nobara and Maki were on a mission to get some fresh air. 

You notice how fast your heart was beating as the three of you make your way to the stairs, the pounding music slowly fading into the background.

"That was so good," Nobara sighs and you nod in agreement, still dizzy from all the sensations around you that your drunken brain was having trouble processing, "Choso did a damn good job, I didn't even know he could do that."

"Neither did I," you add, leaning down to take a sip from the straw in Maki's drink, "but he has skilled hands, so it makes sense."

"Oh shut up," Maki groans and you take the drink from her. You couldn't really tell what was in it, but you've reached a point where everything tastes the same to you anyway.

"I still don't understand why those idiots prefer to stay upstairs with Gojo and Getou and play beer pong," Nobara sneers, making you laugh. She was so right.

"Well, they missed a healing experience," you say, staying close to the two girls while more and more people leave the basement, "I thought all I needed was some random guy to fuck me in the bathroom to get Megumi out of my head, but actually this was just as good."

Nobara turns around and stares at you in shock as you take a sip of the unknown drink, causing you both to burst out laughing. 

"A win is a win, I guess," she says and you high-five her. 

"I'm actually so proud of you," Maki says, nudging your side before wrapping her arm around your waist.

You were surprised at how easy it was for you to talk about him. You hadn't heard from him in well over a week, and you weren't about to keep feeding your own delusion by telling yourself that  that hookup in his car was enough to rekindle your relationship. The two of you were over, and not just since he had dropped you off at your apartment at 4am last weekend. Those had been empty words, everything he had said to you that night. You had lied to yourself, thinking you could change his mind by having sex with him. He hadn't even waited until you were safely inside, instead you heard his tires squealing right after you slammed the door of his car shut.

"Who says you can't have both?" a deep voice whispers in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Well, that was embarrassing.

You immediately recognise his voice. 

Maki and Nobara start to giggle while you just freeze. They couldn't possibly have understood what he was saying at this volume, but the suggestiveness in his voice was enough to make you blush.

You turn and look up at Choso, who was looking back at you with a smirk on his lips. Up close, he looked even more battered than before, but you refrain from saying anything. An apology wouldn't help him and Megumi didn't look too good either.

He hugs you briefly, his hand remaining on your lower back even after you pulled away.

"Your set was great," you say, suddenly feeling a bit shy. Even though you meant it, you just wanted to fill the awkward silence. The fact that Maki and Nobara were standing right behind you didn't help, and Choso caught you so off guard that you didn't really know what to say or do. 

In the end, overthinking was what you did best.

Choso smiles at your comment and you catch his eyes roaming over your body for a second. 

"Thanks, I could see you enjoyed it," he replies, looking you straight in the eye. 

You can barely stand his gaze, your face could hardly get any redder and just as you open your mouth to say something, he clears his throat, his hand still on your back.

"Let's go upstairs, I need something to drink," he motions to Maki and Nobara to take the lead, "it's so damn hot down here."

"Oh, it really is," Nobara says, taking Maki's hand and dragging her through the crowd and up the stairs.

You and Choso follow, him being so gentle as he makes sure you don't bump into anyone, as you still have trouble walking a straight line in your knee high boots.

"Oh - careful," he says, catching you just before you could stumble up the stairs, "you know I'd do anything to get that goddamn asshole out of your head, but you really can't make me take advantage of a drunk girl."

Again, the words were only meant for you as you fell back against his chest, strong arms holding you, his hot breath brushing your neck, his lips just below your ear. 

He managed to get you up, and once you were both surrounded by even more people and loud music, you turn to face him.

"I might be drunk, but I'm not a girl," you say, looking at him challengingly.

"Oh," he laughs, "did I miss anything?" He looks at you for a moment, the grin never leaving his lips.

You just glare back at him.

"Fine, excuse me, ma'am," he says, making you giggle.

"But you are drunk," he observes. 

"Then let's get even more drunk together," you decide, taking his hand to lead him into the kitchen. 

"Sounds like a plan," Choso says, laughing, "Lead the way."

If you had turned around, you would have seen the adoration with which he looked at you. At that moment, he would have followed you anywhere. 

Maki was already sitting on the kitchen counter and Nobara was standing next to her, giggling at something she said. The two were drinking from red plastic cups when Yuta made his way over to them, waving at you. 

You wave back at him before you look around to see Yuji still mixing cocktails.

You and Choso push past some people to keep Yuji company, who hands you both two cups. Yuji grins as you taste his secret recipe and you immediately grimace. Right now you can definitely taste more than four different kinds of alcohol and that should be enough of a statement to make a final judgement about his creation

"I mean, it does it’s job but please don't ever start bartending anywhere," you groan and take another sip.

"Yeah, listen to her," Choso says, but he empties his drink before you do.

"Hey, don't hurt me like that," Yuji protests, "you weren't complaining earlier, though." 

"Well yeah," you say, "But I don't take any responsibility for the fact that you had the plan to get me drunk."

"Oh, I would never do such things," the pink-haired boy says, pouring another cup for Choso before changing the subject.

"My brother was doin’ a pretty good job down there in that basement, huh?"

"Yes, he definitely was," you gush as he reminds you, "but where were you? You missed something."

"Oh, I didn't," he replies, "I was right next to him, watching all the magic happen right in front of me."

"Really?" The music changes and you had to shout over it.

"Yeah, but I guess you only had eyes for someone else," Yuji grins, making you blush.

You sip from your cup, cheeks red and the grin still on your lips, but you don't say anything, instead looking up at Choso. 

"I'm going outside for a smoke, join me if you want," he says in a low voice, letting go of your hand, only now realising that you've been holding it the whole time.

You nod and watch him until he disappears through the kitchen door and out onto the patio. You see him join Gojo and Getou who had been sitting outside with Hakari, Kirara, Nanami and Haibara for a while. Before Choso could even sit down, Hakari was already holding a joint out to him.

Yuji snaps you out of your thoughts and you take another sip of your drink.

"Hey, what's going on, huh?"

You weren't sure what he was hinting at.

"What?" you ask, trying to concentrate on what he is saying.

"You and my brother," he replies, getting straight to the point, "what's going on with you two?"

"I don't know," you say, not even lying, "nothing? Something? I don't think I can say."

"Mhm," Yuji pauses and looks around before turning back to you, "Megumi's here tonight, I saw him earlier."

"Great," you say and put down your cup, "I don't care."

"I think I've heard that before," he sighs while looking at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I don't really care," you say, slightly disappointed, "he doesn't care about me either."

"I doubt that," Yuji tells you, without specifying what exactly he doubted. 

You lean against the counter next to him and watch the people standing around in the kitchen. Most of them were talking, shouting at each other over the loud music, dancing or laughing.

You had already drunk a lot and no decision you would make now would be a good one. Your senses were far too clouded for that, but you needed that kind of ease, you wanted to turn off your racing thoughts. So you didn't have too many options, either you could bang your head against the wall to stop thinking about him, or…

"Let's do some shots," you suggest, almost immediately hearing Yuji groan. You grab a bottle of tequila from the bar and pour yourself and Yuji two glasses.

"What about lemon or salt?", Yuji protests, but you just clink glasses with him.

"What an amateur," you retort, raising the glass to your lips, downing the contents and immediately refilling it, "works just fine without it."

"I hate you," you hear Yuji groan as he does the same, "this is fucking disgusting."

You both start to laugh at Yuji's disgusted expression. The tequila burns as it runs down your throat and you realize just how much you overdid it already.

But wasn't that half the fun? You always had the best nights when you and Maki would stumble into your apartment early in the morning, still completely drunk, with Yuta struggling to somehow try and get you two into your beds.

You start to refill your glasses when Yuji puts the half-empty bottle aside and looks at you with that worried look on his face. Before you can protest or tell him off for looking at you like that, someone else catches your attention.

That couldn’t be.

"Oh, he wouldn't do that…", you say under your breath, completely in disbelief, "that fucking..." 

Yuji holds you by your wrist. The two of you just stand there and watch as Megumi stumbles into the kitchen.

He was holding the hand of a blonde stranger. A stranger, at least until she turns around and sits down on the kitchen island in the middle of the room. You see Maki and Nobara turn to them as well, with Yuta looking at you instead.

You recognize the blonde girl right away.

And just when you think this scene couldn't get any more absurd, you watch as Megumi kisses Yue. Yue, the girl from the party last weekend, the one who went to the same class as you. The girl who tried to stop you from looking for Megumi. 

The girl who was so "worried" about you.

"What the fuck," you curse, trying to free yourself from Yuji's grip, "I'm going to fucking claw her eyes out, I fucking mean it."

Yuji was the only one who could hear you, loud music was still blaring from several speakers throughout the house.

"Am I fucking dreaming?" you yell over the music, "fucking let me go Yuji, I'm gonna..."

"That's his ex-girlfriend." Yuji says. Nothing else, just 'That’s his ex-girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend?

"I saw him talking to her right after he tried to beat up Choso," he adds.

He didn’t. That couldn’t be—

"No, he..." That couldn’t be true.

"I saw his car outside her dorm the morning after the party when I was walking over to football practice."

It took you a moment to process this information.

"He didn't..." You wanted to throw up. Maybe it was just the tequila, but there was still the tiny chance that this bizarre scene was to blame for you suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

"Get a fucking room, you disgusting piece of shit." You hear Nobara screaming over the music while Megumi and Yue were tightly entwined, standing right in the middle of the fucking room.

You were still standing next to Yuji, leaning against the kitchen counter and if looks could kill, the two of them would probably have turned to dust by now. You stared at Megumi, watching him as his hands wandered up her thighs and ass, caressing her waist while they made out as if they were the only people in the room.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, your eyes met. 

You could swear he was looking you straight in the eye as his lips trailed down her neck. His eyes were as dark as ever, almost pitch black, and if you were being honest you couldn't be sure if he was just drunk or if he took something else. Even by his standards, the show he was putting on was truly out of character

If that was one of his sick fucking games he liked to play he definitely did not give you a heads-up. What was he trying? Getting back at you for last weekend? What was he trying to achieve? And Yue was his ex-girlfriend? How come you're only finding out now, and how did she have the audacity to even look you in the eye last weekend, let alone try to comfort you?

"You don’t threaten someone you love with a gun."

Well, good for her that he was obviously treating her completely fucking different.

He seemed unfazed by Nobara's comment, and after your brief eye contact, he closed his eyes again, focusing entirely on the blonde in front of him. 

You were almost boiling with rage and the faces you made, made it really difficult to hide your anger.

"Let go of me," you say again with such emphasis that Yuji actually let go of your wrist.

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, clearly overwhelmed by the situation.

"Oh, I would never." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

'Don’t do anything stupid.' - You didn't even know what to do. For a moment you thought about going up to Yue and ripping out her ugly blonde extensions and telling Megumi how pathetic he was, but instead you did...

Nothing.

You gave Nobara and Maki a quick look, then turned on your heel and stormed out the kitchen door. The cool night air helped you to calm down and it managed to clear the chaos in your head a little.

You take a quick look around before you realize that Choso is still sitting outside with the others, who have spread out over the various seating areas on the patio.

You walk over to them with a determined stride, Kirara sees you from afar and greets you, causing Choso to turn around in your direction. He was sitting comfortably in a two-seater and as he looked at you, you immediately notice his heavy eyelids and dark red eyes. You smile at him and as soon as he realizes it was you, a wide grin appears on his lips.

He makes some room for you, but before he could move to the side you were already sitting next to him, leaning against him, your legs casually stretched across his lap. Not averse to the sudden physical contact, he puts his arm, which had been resting on the back of the two-seater, around your waist and his other hand on your thigh.

"Hi," he says quietly, "what took you so long?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me," you whisper back, "your brother really hates tequila and I felt bad for making him do shots with me."

Choso laughs, not asking any more questions. 

"But I’m here now," you say, placing a hand on his chest, "guess I missed you."

"Did you smoke already?", you tease, looking up at him.

"Well, do I look like it?", he asks, that big grin not leaving his lips.

"Mhm, couldn’t tell," you lie while trying your best to hide your feelings from him.

You turn to look at the others and notice that Kirara is watching you. Gojo also looks at you from time to time, his gaze wandering from Choso's hand on your thigh to your hand on his chest. He raises an eyebrow, but you ignore him.

"Hi, y/n," Kirara says with a warm smile on their lips, "how are you? I missed you in class this week."

You could feel that they was really just concerned about you. After all, Kirara had been at the party last weekend as well.

"Yes, I'm better, I think," you answer and try to fake a smile, "Thanks for asking.

Kirara smiles at you again, "I can send you all the important stuff we did. It's not much though."

You watch as Hakari pulls them closer to him, his large body making them look so much smaller in comparison. Hakari and Kirara were one of your two favourite couples, the other one being Yuta and Maki, of course. He adored Kirara and wasn’t afraid to show that every chance he got.

You hear Getou clear his throat and you turn your gaze away from the two to look at him. You see that he is holding a joint out to you.

"You want some?", he asks and you politely decline.

"Oh, no, I think I need to chill for a bit." You smile at him. Your head was already spinning and you couldn't handle the sensation of another drug right now.

"Come on, you've got to try it, Hakari brought the good stuff," Gojo says, making you think for a moment before you reach out for Getou's hand.

"You're so easy to convince," you hear Gojo snort. He grins at you as you take a drag, but you just stick out your tongue.

"Or, maybe you’re just really convincing," you tell him, taking another drag before passing it to Choso.

"I'll remind you who's easy later tonight," Getou says, coming to your defence. You and the others break into laughter at his comment and watch as Gojo crosses his arms over his chest.

You hear the two of them start bickering and notice that the others, Hakari, Kirara, Nanami and Haibara, were also returning to their heated conversation.

"Did something happen in there?", Choso asks a little while later. He was observant even when he wasn't. Of course he had noticed something. You sigh, Hakari has just handed you the joint again and you hold it between your fingers. You take a drag, then a second one.

"Yeah," you say, blowing out thick, white smoke, "but I really just want to forget about it." 

It had already worked. Since you went outside, you had pushed the thought of Megumi and Yue far away from you. It was all so confusing, this time you couldn't understand what his motive could be. Of course he was angry that you had made out with Choso at the party last weekend, but you two had broken up. Why had he waited for you that night in the first place, was he really so shallow that all he wanted from you was sex? And what did he need you for anyway if he had spent the night with her after he dropped you off? 

The look he gave you earlier had been intentional. He wanted to make sure you were watching him, no doubt about that.

"It doesn't seem to be working very well," Choso says as you rest your head on the arm he has wrapped around you. You look up at him as your hand moves to caress his cheek for a moment but as soon as you notice, you pull it back. Even though Choso doesn't seem to mind. It just felt natural, you wanted to touch him as you enjoyed the feel of his hand on your skin as well.

"Being with you helps," you say, without breaking eye contact. That was the truth. Being with him felt peaceful, you didn't have to be afraid that he would snap at any moment, at something you said or did.

You didn't even notice that Nanami and Haibara had already gone inside, presumably to leave the party. Only when Hakari puts out the joint and says goodbye to take Kirara home, you look away from Choso to look at the others. 

Gojo does not make any effort to leave until Getou gets up, standing next to Gojo and looking at him expectantly.

"Come on, Satoru," you hear Getou say, "it's almost two o'clock, we have training tomorrow."

"Yes, but not until ten," the man with the white hair replies, not understanding why he should move now. Getou gives him a meaningful look and Gojo's eyes widen as he rose to his feet.

"Oh, uh - let's see what's going on inside then, I guess," he says, propping himself up on his knees to get out of the chair he was sitting in, "see you guys." 

Getou waves goodbye before pushing Gojo in front of him towards the patio door.

You’re all alone now, besides a few people standing outside and talking. You admire the night sky for a moment while neither of you says a word. It’s so quiet outside, peaceful even.

"Just the two of us, huh?", you say as you look up at Choso. You think for another moment but then, before he's has a chance to even say anything, you kiss him.

Choso wasn’t exactly surprised and instead kissed you back. His hand, which had just rested on your thigh, moved a little further up until it cupped your ass, moving up under your tiny skirt in a swift motion. 

You put your hand on his chest to support yourself and Choso pulls away for a brief moment. 

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, looking down at you through heavy eyelids and making you giggle, "I missed you." 

Then, your lips meet again. You move to straddle his lap, now sitting on top of him you were the one looking down at him.  

"You’re not so bad yourself, y’know," you whisper into his ear as you cradle his face in your hands, your thumb gently caressing the split in his lip.

When he said he missed you, you knew what he meant. 

Because you did, too.

Last weekend wasn't the first time you two had kissed. When Megumi had broken up with you, Maki had to study for some important exams and you had forbidden her from rotting with you in your depression cave. To make it easier for her, you had taken yourself out for a few evenings to Yuji’s place. He welcomed you with open arms in his new apartment, which he had just moved into with his brother. This was also the first time you got to know Choso properly, away from parties or those few casual encounters on campus.

It started innocently enough, your movie nights, the two of them watching every romcom with you that you had picked out beforehand. However, Yuji usually had training the next day, so he had to go to bed early. Choso promised to drive you home later, and as soon as Yuji disappeared into his room, you moved on to other things. He showed you some new songs, and sometimes a friend  of his would come over and Choso would sell him some weed. 

And at the end of the night you would find yourself spread out on his black leather couch, with his head buried between your thighs. 

It became a habit until Maki's exams were done and she wanted to spend more time with you.

You were glad that the couch you were sitting on had its back to the window in the kitchen, protecting you from the prying eyes of those who went outside to smoke or enjoy the cool night air. As you climbed onto Choso's lap, your skirt had risen up quite high, almost to your waist but you were past the point of caring what others would think.

You’re planting small kisses up his neck and jaw, watching him and how he enjoyed having you in his embrace. After a little while he pulls you into another kiss, this time you’re feeling exactly how hungry he was for you. You bite down on his bottom lip, hard, before you pull away for a moment to gasp for air. While you were grinding down on him, you could feel the thin fabric of your panties slowly getting coated with your slick as you were searching for some kind of friction. 

"How about…", you pause, while kissing his neck up to his earlobe, feeling him slowly but surely getting hard beneath you.

"How about we take this inside, maybe look for an empty room?", you finish your sentence.

You didn't have to ask twice before Choso had already grabbed you. He had one arm around your waist, his other hand digging into your hips while you let out a little squeal before wrapping your legs around his middle. He carried you a few steps until he gently set you down in front of the door into the kitchen.

"You’re going to have to walk real close in front of me," he mutters into your ear as he turns you around to take the lead. You could feel how hard he was already as he was pressed up against you and you couldn’t help but giggle at his remark. 

"I promise they’ll be way too drunk to notice," you say, "but let’s get inside and help you with that." 

***

"Shit—" You hear Choso curse under his breath as he was standing behind you, pumping his dick in his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He had you bent over the bathroom sink right in front of him, his other hand digging into the flesh of your hips, surely leaving bruises on your skin.

You hear a loud bang at the door, but decide to ignore it. The person could find another bathroom, you were sure the house was big enough to have a few other options. As the person knocks a second time, this time even louder than the first, you feel Choso getting impatient.

"What the—", he mutters, turning towards the door. "Fuck off," he shouts, getting distracted for just a second while you were so desperate for him to fuck you already. You scoot your ass back against him, feeling the leaking tip of his cock sliding through your dripping wet folds and turning his attention back to you.

"Hold - fuck - hold still," he groans before pushing you down with his hand on your back, holding you in place so you were unable to squirm under his touch. 

"How about you hurry up a bit?", you tease from underneath him, earning yourself a slap on your ass almost immediately. You jerk forward a little, not expecting him to do that, but enjoying the stinging sensation to your skin all the same.

You let out a small moan as he pulls you back up against his chest, cupping your breast with one hand while pinching your nipple, "You’re in a hurry now, huh?", he groans and without giving you another heads-up, he pushes into you slowly. 

He was stretching you out already without even being all the way in, locking eyes with you in the mirror before bottoming out completely, letting out a loud groan as he did.

Choso watches as your lips formed an O, needy moans escaping your mouth while he is thrusting into your wet pussy at a devilishly slow pace. You could feel the perfect curve and every ridge of his dick, stretching you out so well before he pulls out almost entirely, just the tip prodding at your needy hole.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. His hand squeezes your breasts and you moan at his request, his low voice going straight to your core, making you even wetter than you already were.

"Tell me, did you miss me?," he groans, not breaking eye contact with you, "did you miss my dick?" He plants kisses down your neck and before you could give him an answer he pushes into you again, picking up his pace this time. You cry out at the sudden sensation, the stretch making your eyes roll back while loud moans were falling from your lips. 

"I miss— fuck…", you whine, "'missed you, 'missed your cock inside of me" You had to grab onto the edge of the sink, unable to form another thought besides how good it felt to have him bully his dick into you. 

"Please…", you beg as he continues to fuck into you, holding your trembling body tight against his own.

He watches how your body reacts to him as he was pounding in and out of your pussy relentlessly, your walls squeezing down on his cock so hard he had to use everything he had to not cum into you right then and there. 

"Look at you," he moans right into your ear, "look at yourself taking this dick so fucking good." 

His hand that was just digging into the soft skin of your hips moves further down, his fingers meeting your slick just seconds after. His thumb starts drawing harsh circles on your clit, earning  him a few loud moans that fell from your lips.

"Fuck— Choso, right there, plea—", you whine, eyes squinted shut, "please, 'wanna cum - fuck— don’t stop." 

"I said look at yourself," Choso groans into your ear as you suddenly feel him pulling his hand away, forcing you to obey him and open your eyes. You swallow at the reflection you see in the mirror in front of you.

You were already looking so fucked out, mascara smeared along your undereyes. Your tiny denim skirt was dangling around your waist and that high neck, sleeveless crop top was pulled up above your breasts, squeezing them together. 

"Good girl," he praises, pressing a kiss to your sticky temple while his fingertips continue to rub and pinch at your clit without any mercy. You cry out, louder than anticipated, and watch how tears start to prickle in the corners of your eyes. 

It was too much for you, you were barely able to contain yourself beneath him and you felt yourself getting tighter around him with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass. Thank god the music outside was so loud, the heavy bass lining up with the lewd noises the both of you made. 

"Shit - you’re getting so fucking tight," he grunts before you hear low moans falling from his lips, "you wanna cum, pretty girl?"

All you can do is whine in response, as you already lost your ability to form meaningful sentences a while ago. "I’m gonna - gonna—", you cry, brows knit together at the overwhelming feeling of him hitting your cervix over and over again. 

You watch how Choso stares at you through the reflection in the mirror, your body almost going limp as you feel your core tightening and the only thing you were being able to do was moan his name, again and again.

"Then cum for me, babygirl," he whispers, his fingertips circling your nipples and pinching your swollen clit while he fucks into your throbbing cunt, getting you closer and closer to your release, until…

"There you go," Choso coos as he feels your walls pulsating around him. Your fingernails claw and scratch at the arm that he had wrapped around you, while you were trying to hold onto something, anything…

Then your orgasm washes over you and it made your thighs shake almost immediately. Choso doesn't stop fucking you through your overwhelming peak, giving you no time to breathe until he finally cums into you as well, thick ropes of hot and sticky cum painting your pussy white while  you had your eyes closed again and you hear him moan into your ear.

You lean back against his muscular chest as the two of you try to catch your breath, raspy moans and small whimpers fall from both of your mouths while neither of you was able to say anything.

You shiver as Choso slides out of you, goosebumps prickling across your body, before he turns you around and you open your eyes to look at him. Your cheeks were flushed and your legs almost too weak to stand on, but you manage to pull your top down, covering yourself up as Choso presses a kiss to your lips. 

He helps adjusting your skirt after you put your panties back on, stumbling against him as you were standing on one leg.

"Careful—", he says and catches you, almost giving you a Déjà vu. 

"You alway got my back, huh?", you ask playfully while you’re trying to fix your hair and makeup in the mirror. 

"Doing my best," he chuckles, pulling up his pants and putting on the hoodie he took off earlier. The shirt he was wearing underneath had stains at the bottom - well, his fault for not taking it off as well. "Let’s get out before they break in the door."

You reach for your bag, now that you can stand in your knee-high boots without holding on to anything, and just as you are about to head for the door, Choso beats you to it.

He holds the door knob as he looks down at you.

"Hey, let’s do that again sometime," he grins and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "and text me if you want me to get you home."

"You're a gentleman after all," you say and take his hand, grinning as you stand on your tiptoes to give him another kiss on the cheek. "Actually, 'lemme just find Nobara and tell her I’m leaving, I won’t be taking long," you mutter before pulling back. 

"I’ll wait outside for you," Choso says after the both of you have left the bathroom. Not a lot of people were still left and those who were, were not paying attention to the both of you. You feel him squeeze your hand once more before he lets go of it and disappears into the hallway. 

***

You try and make your way into the kitchen, as a familiar voice startles you.

"Stop using my brother to make him jealous," Yuji says, his voice unusually cold as he suddenly pulls up behind you.

You freeze and turn around, slowly.

"What?", you ask, not willing to believe what you’ve just heard. 

"I'm sorry, y/n, but you heard me right," He was serious. Where had he suddenly come from? Had he seen or... heard you? 

"It’s not - it’s not like that, I mean, I," you stammered, completely taken by surprise, "I’m not using Choso."

"Honestly, Y/N, I don't care what you say, I care about my brother, and all you've been doing lately is destroying yourself. You don't give a fuck about your friends, we're always here for you, and yet you go back to him every chance you get."

Ouch.

You could tell he was drunk. This was unusual for him, he was an athlete and although he liked to go to parties, he rarely drank alcohol himself, apart from a few shots for fun. And it took a lot to get Yuji drunk, you were speaking from experience.

The words that came out of Yuji's mouth hurt you. He was right, but none of your friends had called you out on your bullshit yet.

"I can't save you, Y/N. I've given up on that, but don't drag Choso into this. He has no bad intentions and he would actually treat you well, I know you don't want that." Yuji was so serious and you couldn't even argue with him because he was right.

"Your brother is a grown man," you reply coldly, not even able to look him directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, exactly, he’s a man. Plus - he likes you." 

It wasn't as if you denied the way Choso looked at you with absolute adoration in his eyes. You knew he would move heaven and earth if you asked him for something, and even if he wasn't pushy, you could count on him. He was thoughtful and gentle, he knew what you liked and didn't like, and sex with him was fun, so what exactly were you missing?

"Listen, Yuji, this in none of your business," you say, trying your best to keep your calm, "I don’t need saving and your brother is perfectly capable of looking after himself, so—"

"Yeah, whatever," Yuji barks, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand that you only noticed now, "don't come back crying if he hits you again."

Wow. 

You watch him leave as you realize that you've never seen your best friend so upset. You take a step back, startled by the feel of the wall behind you. You feel your way along the cold wall, down the dimly lit hallway, not sure where you want to go, but you wanted to get away from here. Looking for a door to get out, you pass a few couples making out. 

You push down the door handles of a number of locked rooms and people coming towards you bumped into you. Some of them apologise, others look you up and down, whistling or shouting something at you, but your tunnel vision prevented you from noticing anything. 

You had your guard down while the things Yuji had said to you played over and over in your head. 

Just as you reached the door at the end of the corridor, it was a glass door and you could see the starry night sky through it, someone slammed you hard into the wall. You were pushed into the chest of a much taller person who opened the door to your right with one hand and pushed you in with the other. 

"Hey—", you protested, but you had no chance. The man was much stronger than you and at least two heads taller. The familiar scent that rose to your nostrils as you were pressed against his chest set off alarm bells ringing in your head. 

And as you looked up, even the last doubts you naively had were erased.

"Megumi…", you gasp, and immediately try to get a few steps between the both of you. You hear him lock the door behind him and you instantly feel like a cornered animal. Your eyes scan the room for ways to escape, but unless you wanted to climb out the window, the door was the only way out. 

He looked you straight in the eye, all emotion gone from his face. It was obvious that you, on the other hand, were scared. You hadn't seen anyone outside and you were alone in some guest bedroom that was located in a part of the house where you couldn’t even hear anymore music playing.  

You clutched your bag and pulled your big leather jacket, which you had put on on the way out, tightly around you.

As if that would somehow protect you.

Megumi was still standing by the door, motionless. The grin on his lips never reached his eyes as he stared at you.

"I heard you were having fun in there," he says as you watch him closely.

Fuck.

"Yeah, and I want to leave now," you reply, trying your best to contain your voice, "why don’t you go back to Yue and leave me alone?" 

"Mhm." He seems like he’s thinking about it for a moment. "I don’t think so."

You gather all your courage as you decide to walk towards him.

"Cut your bullshit, Megs," you demand, "let me out of here."

He grabs you roughly as you try to reach for the door, pushing you back into the room.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?", you hiss, not willing to hold back anymore.

"You show up here, with your ex-girlfriend, making out with her, in front of me, in front of all my friends, and when you don't get the reaction you want, you jump me?" You almost yell at him and he was still just standing there in front of you with no reaction.

"I'm not doing this anymore Megumi, this isn't one of your little games anymore," you add, on the verge of tears, "why are you doing this to me?"

"I'll do whatever I want to you," his voice was as calm as always, scaring the living shit out of you as he walks towards you.

"I don't care about Yue, she was just, well, there," he says, watching you closely, "I wanted to know if you meant any of what you were saying last weekend, but as soon as your cute ego gets hurt you’re letting the next best guy fuck you in the bathroom."

You feel tears prickling in your eyes, and your attempts to blink them away only cause them to trickle down your cheeks.

"Oh," he mocks you, "now you’re crying." 

"Fuck you," you hiss and wipe the tears from your face. 

When he was standing right in front of you, you could smell not only his familiar scent, but also the smell of alcohol as he spoke to you. He was tense, you could feel it, and in the darkness his eyes looked almost pitch black as he stared at you.

"Watch how you talk to me," he says through clenched teeth, "just because you can't stand that you act like a fucking slut every time, just to get my attention."

What he said made you cry even more and you didn't bother trying to wipe off the tears anymore.

"I don’t wanna talk to you right now," you sob, but of course he doesn’t care what you want.

"But I wanna talk to you," he barks, grabbing you by your wrists as you try to shuffle away from him, "what is it about him that you go back for a second and a third, huh? Want me to beat him up for good this time?"

He was squeezing your wrists so hard that it hurt. 

"I’ll kill him if he ever touches you again," he spits, "fucking dirty whore."

You weren't sure what hurt more, his words, or the way he twisted your arms to bring you closer to his face.

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone," you manage to get out, "you’re pathetic. I don’t need you."

You try to break free of his grip a second time, only this time he lets go of you to push you away from him. He does this with such force that you lose your balance and stumble backwards into the bed frame, which was now right behind you.  

You land on the mattress and before you know it, you feel his hand clench around your throat, pulling you up to his eye level again. You have to stand on your tiptoes to take some of the pressure off your neck.

He didn’t squeeze much but it still hurt. His grip was strong as ever and you couldn't move, so you stayed still, hoping he wouldn't hurt you any more.

You grimaced in pain and tried to look him straight in the eye. Somehow he had to realize what he was doing, didn't he? He was delirious and that frightened you. You knew this kind of situation all too well and it made you freeze. There was nothing you could do about it, you could only beg him to stop or try and keep still.

"Megumi, please, I’m sorry, you’re— you’re right," you sob, cheeks wet with tears, "just let me go, please…"

Suddenly you feel his hand tighten around your throat, but you don't realize it until he grabs you  by your neck and slams you right back into the mattress behind you. You have no time to react, you just feel a sharp pain as your head hits the headboard and then he finally presses down hard on your throat. You're helpless, gasping for air, barely able to process what he's just done.

"You’re such a fucking whore, Y/N," he fumes, shaking you and pushing you even deeper into the mattress, "you deserve to get treated exactly like the little fucking slut you are."

You whimper and cry, while hearing the blood rushing through your ears as you struggle against his grip.

Panic rises in you and you feel your eyes begin to sting with more hot tears running down your cheeks. In your desperate struggle you feel your muscles ache and your body give in, the shock knocking the last bit of air out of your lungs and you can't breathe, you know you're about to pass out.

"Tell me again who’s pathetic?" His face was right next to yours as he whispered into your ear.

You couldn't stop crying, even though you couldn't even make a sound. You were sure he was going to kill you this time. 

You had to fight back, but he was so much stronger than you.

"Megumi…", you groan.

"I— I need to—", you cough, desperately trying to claw at his arms, "breathe…please…stop—"

You cry and plead and try to free yourself, all while your strength slowly but surely leaves your body. And then, just milliseconds before you were about to lose consciousness, you feel the air flowing back into your lungs. 

You're so out of breath, coughing and choking and crying all at the same time, while your throat burns so badly, that for a moment you're not even sure he's really let you go.

The moment he lets go of you and stands up, you pull your legs towards you and crawl as far away from him as you can, putting your hands around your neck for protection, pulling the high-neck of your top up over the bruises that were probably already starting to form. 

You shake uncontrollably and can hardly stop crying, while he just stands there watching you. You wrap your arms around your legs, concentrating on your breathing as your body continues to shake.

Then he turns and leaves the room without another word to you.

And you wonder if this is your fault.

***

"I'm so sorry," you say, standing behind Choso after you finally found your way out of the house. He was sitting on the steps outside the main entrance, a bottle of beer in his hand, waiting for you. You snuggle into your much too large jacket as you sit down next to him.

"You've been gone for half an eternity." Choso gently nudged into your side and you wince, barely noticeable.

"Nobara was throwing up downstairs," you lie, "I couldn’t leave her."

"Oh, really," he says, you couldn't know he'd seen her leave almost an hour ago, "poor girl, I hope she's feeling better now.

You say nothing, tugging at the high neckline of your top, your legs bouncing nervously.

Choso notices and puts a hand on your thigh. You flinch again and this time he feels it.

"Are you all right?", he asks worriedly, looking at you. Your long hair hides the bruises on your neck, but what it can't hide is your blank stare, your swollen lips and your red, watery eyes.

You nod. 

"Yeah, I'm just cold," you say, trying to smile. Your throat's still hurting when you speak.

He puts the bottle to the side and shuffles closer to you. 

The both of you were sitting on the stairs for a while, neither one of you saying a single word. Choso sensed that something must have happened, but what could he do? He knew you lied to him about Nobara, so he figured you wouldn't tell him anything he didn't want to hear.

"Sometimes I just want what they have, y’know?", you sigh after a while and lean into Chosos side, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

"I know I will never find that kinda love."

You're talking about the scene that took place in front of you, a scene that caught your attention immediately. Yuta and Maki were about to leave the party together, and Maki was completely drunk. Yuta had his arm around her to manoeuvre her into the car. They both giggled while Maki tried to wrestle her boyfriend, making it harder than it had to be for the poor boy to get her home quickly.

As you look away, you notice that Yuji was sitting in the passenger’s seat with the window down.

He was getting impatient, waiting for them to finally get into the car, and as he turned to see what was taking them so long, your eyes met briefly. 

You saw him open his mouth as if to say something, but then he noticed Choso sitting next to you and he immediately turned away.

He was still mad at you.

Yuta had finally made it and Maki was sitting safe and sound in the back seat. He planted a kiss on her forehead before gently closing the door behind her and walking around the car. You looked away but he caught you watching the scene and stopped for a moment, flashing you both a smile before he waved goodbye, got into the car and drove off.

"What do you mean?" you hear Choso's voice after you have sat in silence for another while. The car disappeared and you just stared into the distance, trying to find the right words.

"I don't know, there's just no...", you pause for a moment, thinking how pathetic you're going to sound, "there's just no darkness."

That's it. Everything about their relationship was genuine, they cared for each other. There was not a hint of jealousy, no one was trying to control or manipulate the other.

"It's just sweet, they're just... sweet," you swallow, feeling so vulnerable in that moment, "they don't hate each other, there's just so much love. I don't know if that would ever be enough for me. Doesn't it get boring?"

Once again, you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm going crazy," you mumble.

None of you says a word after that. At some point, you lift your head from Choso's shoulder to look at him, almost as if you want him to say something.

"You’re not," he says, his voice sounding determined.

"I mean, you're pretty fucked up, but you're not crazy." Choso pulls two cigarettes out of a pack and hands you one, lighting yours first. He stuffs the pack back into his jacket and takes a few puffs, immediately blowing the smoke out into the cool night air before turning back to you,

"I don’t fuck with insane chicks, learned my lesson." 

He nudges your side again to make sure you understand that he was joking, but you were already too far up in your head. You smoke your cigarette, breathing in the smoke as if it might bring you some kind of clarity.

"I think I'm going to get back together with him," you whisper, almost as if you don't want to hear what's coming out of your own mouth.

Choso does not answer. 

Of course he doesn’t. 

What was he supposed to say? He didn't know what exactly was going on between you and him, but at this point he knew that there was something, at least from his side. It was unfair of you to talk to him about it, of all people, and at the same time he knew that you couldn't talk to anyone else at the moment.

"Y/n, tell me, what do you want to hear from—" 

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"It's a mistake, right?"

"Don't do it, just…", he pauses and takes a drag, "don't do it."

"I don't know if I can help it," you tell him, sounding defeated. 

Inhaling, you feel what you had been blocking out all along. Your throat hurts. The cigarette smoke that keeps pouring into your lungs only makes it worse, and the sudden pain in your chest when you inhale too deeply makes you wince.

You knew that those bruises would form. Like splashes of blue and green paint they would cover your neck, spreading all around your throat. 

Choso doesn’t reply to this, either. 

His head was hanging low. Not because he was disappointed or pissed off that he wasn’t able to make another move on you tonight, but because he was afraid to lose you. 

Because he knew he couldn’t really do anything to save you.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do or the rest of the world does, really," he sighs and pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist and letting you rest your head against his chest. He wanted to say so much more but he stopped himself before opening his mouth. 

He knew it wouldn’t change a thing. 

@bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9 @arminsgfloll @chifuyusfingers @kokonoiscoconut thx for motivating me to keep on writing <3

[ghoultrifle]

There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 2 - Fighting With You

WC: 1.8k

Summary: Dewdrop buys the toys he's been so curious about, with only a few breakdowns along the way. Set immediately after the previous chapter.

Notes: Fun fact! The toy reviews are almost all verbatim reviews from the lovehoney website :) isn't that fun! thank you to the unnamed friend who reignited my passion for reading sex toy reviews ashdfklhsg

I'm going to give a very slight warning for dubcon. Nothing happens, but Dewdrop gets in his own head about what might happen. Of course, Rain would never.

And a big thanks to @everybodyshusband for proofreading and hyping me up <333

Read below the cut or on AO3

“‘m ready,” Dewdrop whispers into Rain’s neck, pushing the larger ghoul off his lap, “Wanna get the feeling back in my legs,” he chuckles.

“Are you sure, Dewbug? We can wait if you want, I’ll still love you even if you never end up buying anything.”

Dewdrop grabs the water ghoul’s chin, bringing his head down to eye level, “I’ve never been so sure in my life, especially with you here,” it isn’t entirely the truth, but Dewdrop is feeling better than before, “Anyway, what is your opinion on what I sent you?”

Rain pauses before dragging a stack of filing boxes next to Dew’s chair, perching on them to watch the screen. As Dewdrop logs back in (his password is rainisgay69, ironic for someone who on some level of his dysphoria-ridden brain believes rain is secretly straight), their eyes are accosted with the bright screen illuminating the now dark room, a lilac dildo front and centre on the screen. The description reads, “Realistic Silicone Suction Cup Dildo - Perfect For Beginners”. It’s veiny, a respectable length and girth, nothing that would rip the ghoul open, but enough for him to feel the stretch, to feel full. It looks respectable, with the bonus that Dewdrop could definitely throw it into a strap on the rare occasion he does want to top; he could finally stop stealing from Cirrus.

Dewdrop flicks through the photos, capturing the length, girth, and the size comparable to a hand. Rain’s cock begins to stir at the last picture, remembering that one day he may be lucky enough to hold it, to fuck Dewdrop sweetly and gently with it while he rubs and flicks at the fire ghoul’s small dick, wringing out the most lascivious moans as Dew finally experiences divine pleasure. But this isn’t about him, so Rain wills the blood to return to his head so he can give a coherent response to his mate.

“Fuck, baby, it looks perfect,” he coos, planting a chaste kiss on Dewdrop’s cheek. He can’t help the sly comment that leaves his mouth before his brain can catch up, his mind preoccupied with the image of the toy against Dewdrop’s auburn curls, “Gonna look so good against your dripping cunt, heard ginger and purple go well together.”

The darks of Dewdrop’s eyes widen, and Rain’s face drops as he realises what he just said, “Shit- fuck- I’m fucking- I’m sorry Dewy that wasn’t the right time. I promise I’d be fine if you bought this and it just sat on the shelf forever. Or- or if you didn’t even buy it. Actually, I’d be fine if you banned all sex toys. You coul-”

A firm but gentle slap to the face interrupts the water ghoul, “Alright, wrap it up Sappy Steve. Save it for when I’m actually panicking, okay?” he chides, “And I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

He briefly glances at the top reviews, struggling to believe what he’s reading:

“I have recently celebrated my 70th birthday and this gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

“This is amazing. I can't believe how satisfying it is for a transgender person. I love to sit on it.”

Dewdrop laughs so hard he has fresh tears spilling down his face. That’s a new hobby unlocked: reading sex toy reviews online.

“See!” Rain exclaims, pointing at the screen and nudging Dewdrop’s shoulder, “You’re not the only trans person who wants to get fucked nasty with a toy,” the water ghoul is beaming at the review, hoping it will ease Dewdrop’s apprehension about it all. They’re having fun but Rain won’t pretend he hasn’t noticed how the other’s hand has been trembling as he navigates the website, how Dewdrop’s taking deep yet rapid breaths, his free hand worrying the ring on his middle finger.

The basket icon lights up as Dewdrop’s informed he only has to spend £15 more to get free delivery, “Might as well get the vibrator too, then?” he shrugs weakly, voice catching in his throat as he navigates to the second link he sent Rain earlier. “POWERFUL Vibrator - For Internal and External Use” it reads. Dewdrop re-examines it, looking at each photo in turn, breath turning shaky as he thinks about using it, putting it inside him, where no object has ventured before. As he thinks about the hard plastic sliding in, surely cold and rigid, perhaps he’ll be so dry that it will hurt, and he’ll just have to grin and bear it for his Rain.

The desk begins to shake slightly as Dewdrop’s knee bounces up and down with a fevered pace. His thumb is in his mouth, biting at the skin around his nails, leaving it red and sore. It’s getting to him. This is real. In just a few days he’ll be laying with Rain as he freaks out about it all. Now he’s told the water ghoul he wants it, he feels pressured, like he can’t say no anymore. Because if he says no, then he’s clearly leading Rain on for something that will never happen, and Rain really will break up with him this time. Why would he be with someone who is clearly never going to get over his fear of penetration? Perhaps Rain is straight and just waiting for Dewdrop to realise he is a woman after all, and when he finds out that Dew is just a man who’s scared of dick, he’ll run to the mountains, screaming a warning to everyone: Don’t Date Dewdrop.

A third set of tears begin to tumble their way down his cheeks, a small waterfall flowing with each blink the ghoul makes. His eyes are glassy, he can no longer see the offending toy on the computer, just a set of blurry white pixels laden with illegible text, Rain must have scrolled it down. Rain brings the fire ghoul into the warmest hug he can muster, peppering kisses to his neck. There is no sexual element to it, just pure love for his mate. His mate who he wishes he could take all the dysphoria from and suffer through it himself if it would mean a better life for Dewdrop. His mate who loves Dewdrop in a way the fire ghoul cannot even begin to fathom.

He truly believes he’s unlovable on a fundamental level, that his identity makes him some freak in between man and woman, that no guy would want to fuck him or be fucked by him, and no woman would take his pathetic excuse for a dick, even if he did want to top. It’s solidified in Dewdrop’s mind that Rain is only with him for his own sexual gratification, and now that Dewdrop wants to explore his own pleasure, he’ll be left to figure it out on his own. The image of him weeping as he forces a dildo into himself, cold and alone in his bedroom, is being seared further into his brain with every second that passes. Until he’s brought back to reality by Rain’s shuffling arm.

Rain decides against a tissue; Copia clearly had no regard for his own skin since the tissues in his office may as well have been constructed from sandpaper. Instead, he brings a bunched-up sleeve to Dewdrop’s eyes, catching the tears as he calms the sniffling ghoul beneath him, rocking them together in a soothing motion much like his mother would do in the pit. Words wouldn’t do Dewdrop’s pain justice; consolation would feel inadequate and pity, well, is just that and Dewdrop deserves better. He’s sure that if he reached inside the fire ghoul’s mind for just a moment, it would be more than he could ever bear. So, Rain opts for silence. The kind of silence you could sit in for eternity. The kind of silence where the world is at peace; there’s no buzzing of electricity, no shuffling in the quarters, just the sound of a gentle breeze creeping its way in through the poorly sealed windows, whistling hello as it sings its song. Rain rocks them for what could have been hours, Dewdrop isn’t sure, the sun had already set by the time he started.

Fresh air stings Dewdrop’s eyes. The flood has stopped, Rain’s sleeves near-soaked as the fire ghoul blinks the last of the hot tears from his weary eyes. His own sleeve is drenched in a thick layer of snot as he wipes his nose, the water ghoul looking on in a weird adoration for his mate. If Rain could watch him do that and still love him, then maybe there was hope. As he squints his eyes to focus on the screen, Dewdrop’s confronted with the reviews for the vibrator:

“My clit is tingling like a mo fo!! Thanks lovehoney. What a piece of cum equipment.”

“It took longer to get the item out of the packaging than it did for my wife to cum.”

Okay, maybe it isn’t quite so serious. As hilariously honest as the reviews are, it does spark something in Dewdrop- the curiosity at what these toys feel like, at how they’re so much better than just a set of hands. There must be a reason the vibrator gets a 4.7/5 on the ‘orgasm rating’. Dewdrop hesitates over the button that would add it to the basket, “I’m scared, Rain,” he admits with a sigh of relief, finally putting words to it.

“Then do it scared, spitfire,” the water ghoul replies, “Want and fear can coexist. If you truly don’t want to then I support you, droplet, but it sounds like you’re just conflicted. I think when the time comes, you’ll be glad the toys are ready for you, just like I will be.”

Dewdrop melts into the larger ghoul’s embrace. Rain has somehow managed to reach into Dew’s brain and lay his feelings bare on the table, raw and sensitive. But he’s right, about everything. Dewdrop does want it, he is scared, and he should buy it anyway. “Fuck it,” he smirks, stifled only slightly by a sniffle, as he adds the item to the basket, heading to the checkout page, a fuck you to his dysphoria. Copia’s bank details autofill and Dewdrop doesn’t complain; he’s not been left with much money since being charged with sourcing the pack’s weed on tour. Before he gives himself a chance to second guess his actions, he completes the order.

The thick tension that had filled the air dissipates in an instant, Dewdrop slumps in his chair as Rain idly braids a loose plait into hair, whispering praises to his love, “So proud of you, droplet. Whatever comes of this I want you to remember how brave you are for getting this far, okay?”

“Brave? In what world?” Dewdrop huffs.

“In this world, my love. In this world where every day is a fight between your mind and your body. In this world, where today, your mind won. And in this world where your mind won’t win every day but where I’ll be here, always, fighting with you.”

[itsjaywalkers]

weekend snippet <3

thank you so much my loves @static-radio-ao3 @xjustakay @imdamagecontrol for tagging me!! mwah <3

i don't think i need to say where this is from.. (slight nsfw)

You’re not gonna fuck James Potter again.  You’re not. Gonna. Fuck James Potter. Again. This continues even after they get off the tube. During the little walk to James’ building. Regulus is still repeating it inside his brain by the time they reach the door of the flat, Sirius pounding on it so aggressively he worries for a second he’ll end up tearing it down.  But then James is opening the door, sporting a blinding grin, dimples already in place. James and his messy hair that he somehow manages to pull off. James and his golden-rimmed glasses resting a bit too low on his nose. James and his crooked nose, which looks rather charming.  It’s enough to make Regulus light-headed. To get him to fucking gulp, his throat so dry it borders on painful. A needy sound claws his way through, but he keeps it down, lips pressed tight and hands curling into fists at his sides.  You’re not gonna fuck James Potter again. You’re not gonna fuck— Regulus’ traitorous eyes slide lower, just to find that the older man is wearing a crop top. Loose and short-sleeved, different from the one Regulus had on a couple of nights ago, but still fucking criminal, showing off his abs and stupidly muscular arms. The sight is made even more painful by the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, dark underwear peeking through the waistband.  There’s so much brown skin on display. So much of James’ body he didn’t get to see last time, because they were in a car, and it was dark, and James barely got to undress before he was pushing his cock inside Regulus. James had been too busy making him feel good, both of his hands occupied. One of them gripping his waist, harsh enough to leave marks, and the other between them, fingers rubbing relentlessly on his clit.  Regulus blinks, cheeks warm.   Oh, I’m so fucking James Potter again.

no pressure tags: @carniferous @regscupid @residentrookie @drownedlove @courfee

[kelin-is-writing]

since i’m making you guys wait quite a lot of time, here’s a sneak peek for you my loves 😘

[orcelito]

hows itnl next chapter goin' ? 👉👈

Hfkshfks well I was rereading ITNL to get back into it and vibing and then I had some intense fuckin deadlines for school so I haven't gotten back to it Just yet hfkshfm

Perhaps have gotten a little distracted reading the smut fic I have posted and thinking about writing the sequel one-shot to it. Just for a little low pressure fun writing. Get back in the groove of writing lol. Also I got into a real vashwood mood that ITNL won't be indulging for a while hfkshfkd so. Brain wants to make them squirm. You know.

Anyways even if I do end up writing that next one shot I don't think it'll keep me from ITNL for tooooo long? I was definitely vibing with it when I was reading it. I just need to get that drive for violence back and also get to a point where I don't have a bunch of deadlines hanging over my head jfshdmd (bc I am still not outta the woods on that yet 😭😭😭) but AFTERWARDS... hopefully I'll be getting to it before too long.

The good news is I have a doctors appointment on Tuesday to hopefully get adhd meds and IF THEY WORK, well I hope they can unlock an increased productivity never before seen in me. Or well I guess I can't say that given my 70k words in 3 weeks super hyperfixation back in 2020 but OTHER THAN THAT... productivity for the Current me at least.

That + the fact that the next few chapters of ITNL will be very exciting for me... once I start writing I think I'll be writing a Lot... I just need a little bit longer to get there......

[slutabed]

18+ - ch. 3 preview: "He Carries the Reminders" from Where the Ragged People Go

...all of a sudden, Steve seems to want his title back. 

It’s ridiculous, and Robin nearly snorts beer out of her nose laughing in her haste to remind him what a dork he truly is. Jonathan grins and chimes in about how far King Steve has fallen off of his throne, and how it’d be pretty tough to sit back up there with a broken ass and no crown.

But Steve is grinning wildly, all shining lights in his eyes and just a flush of red high up on his cheeks, looking every bit the golden captain of the basketball team he’d been even during his team’s losing streak. 

“If Munson wants my title,” he says to the room at large, passing Eddie another beer and grabbing one for himself, “he’s gonna have to fight me for it.”

Blood swims in diametric streams throughout Eddie’s body, half rushing to his face and half rushing south to what could become a dangerously embarrassing situation if he doesn’t get a fucking grip soon. 

Fight Steve? Eddie could die from one knock-out punch and be satisfied, if it means Steve gets his hands on him. 

But while Eddie is busy trying to shove his horny brain back into his mental closet, Steve pulls a multitool out of his back pocket and flips the knife open. 

“I’m assuming you have one of your own?” Steve asks, entirely too calm for this shit, as if it’s completely normal to – what, invite Eddie to a fucking knife fight in his living room? 

Eddie blinks and does the only thing he can think of while he fumbles for the switchblade he keeps in his pocket: he runs his fucking mouth. 

“Aw, so it was just a knife in your pocket after all, huh, Harrington? I thought you were just happy to see me.”

Robin and Jonathan boo him from their respective seats while Steve rolls his eyes, grabs Eddie’s collar and hauls him to his feet. 

“If you’re too chickenshit to shotgun for the title, Munson, just say it,” Steve croons before shanking a hole into the side of his beer can, popping the top, bringing the hole to his mouth and sucking, hard. 

“Oh shit.” 

[loquarocoeur]

YES

Exactly, this is everything, could not have said it better, this is all that goes on in Charles' head

Pretty boy in my lap. Pretty boy curled up comfortably in my arms. Pretty boy looking up at me with big watery eyes. Pretty boy hiding his face in my neck. Pretty boy letting my hands wander over him, doing whatever I want, touching however I want. Pretty boy breathing and moaning into my skin. Pretty boy squirming and losing his mind a little bit. Pretty boy begging me for more. Pretty boy tilting his head up, wanting a kiss. Pretty boy being so so good for me, and I lose my mind a little bit.

[tonycries]

SCREEN QUEEN! - G.S.

Synopsis. To see a movie or to make one? Four times Geto Suguru absolutely ruined you for the cameras, and the one time outside of them.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! pórnstar! reader, pórnstar!Geto, he is so DOWN BAD, exhibítionism, breéding, Geto’s tattoos, Geto’s PIERCINGS (d, tongue), THREÉSOMES, some Gojo x Reader x Geto, streamer!Gojo, vóyeurísm, Geto gets one taste is PÚSSYDRÚNK, mast. (Geto), oraI (fem + male rec.), spítting, p slapping, some Toji x Reader, PÚRE SMUT, húmping, matíng presses, semi-public, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 10.1k (woah)

A/N. Have a lovely week <3

“Ch-chin up, honey–” Geto’s drunkenly half-lidded stare sticks to you like a greedy second skin. And it makes him snicker, curling his thick fingers around your neck to force your glassy eyes upwards. “Let the camera see that hah- pretty face of yours.”

You mewl, batting your teary lashes up at his towering figure. Pretty glossed lips pressing the most sinful French kisses up his sensitive shaft, “Like this, Sugu?”

And god, that makes him throw his head back with a whimper. It makes him dredge up everything left of his sanity to remember those next few lines of his, praying that those babbling messes of his groans pick up on the microphones. 

“Y-yeah, got that right.” he jostles his muscular thighs even more heavily manspread, baring you with a sopping wet swipe of his angry tip against your pout. Poking the bulbous curve of his cool metal piercing just barely- “So you can listen, brat.”

Damn. Geto’s already sure he’d stumbled over his script a few too many times. Already sure he’d forgotten what the next scene was with how he was too dangerously close-

CUT!

Shit.

He had a feeling this would happen.

Because Geto Suguru rarely ever had to take multiple takes whenever he was filming - he was no novice in this business. Far from it, in fact. 

Bearing the title of one of the most-watched porn actors in history - and the five-time crowned winner of the most beautiful, as well - the audience loved him, and the directors loved him even more with just how many big, fat cheques he’d rake in easily.

And you?

That gorgeous newbie paired up with him today that was absolutely ruining him. 

“Sorry-” Your honeyed tone snaps him out of his syrupy reverie, and the little smile on your face is so innocent compared to just a few seconds ago. “M’still new to this, so I think it was my fault.”

Yeah, ruining him. 

“Not at all. S’cute.” Geto’s plastering one of his suave grins all across his mean mouth, and without a second thought, he’s thumbing away that translucent little splatter of precum at the edge of your kiss-bitten lips. Wetting the curvaceous pad of his thumb, “Besides, don’t worry yourself, pretty lady. I don’t think a uh- what was it- clan leader would stutter as much as I did.”

And oh, he wished he could sneak in a few more glimpses of your laugh, music to his ears. Wondering what it’d feel like to have it vibrate around his still rock-hard cock. But alas, swiftly, the director’s clapping a hand down on Geto’s broad shoulder. 

“Suguru- my star! What happened back there?” the older man bares him with a toothy grin that said it wouldn’t last there much longer if he made any more mistakes at today’s shooting.

It was the first time in years that he had to have a word of reprimand. And he wasn’t even fucking you today-

“Nothing.”

“Are we sure-”

“Nothing.” Firmer, this time, with a dangerous tinge that no other actor would dare have. His glassy eyes - still foggy from the slide of your tongue, still aching for more of it - fixate sideways on you getting your make-up retouched right beside him. Clearing his throat, “I won’t fumble next time. Promise.”

But shit, only a few seconds before the next take - the high-definition cameras rolling, the heady lighting fixated on the two of you - and he already feels like he’s about to lose it.

“Said you were a rookie, right? You sure about that, screen queen?” he’s leering a slightly-smug grin down at you, the curved edges of his lips twitching at that little industry nickname of yours.

He’d heard it here and there - mainly whenever Gojo was raving about you, but never did he think you would end up being so…so addictive. 

Of course, he’s going to brag to his best friend as soon as this is over.

You’re gifting him with a bratty huff, “I’ve only been making videos for a few months, y’know? So I’ve never had to have a blowjob scene with someone so-” 

And with a gulp, your syrupy eyes flicker downwards at his achingly hard cock - famed for just how massive Geto was. Already so creamy with a glistening coating of precum drizzling down his thumping veins, standing so thoroughly and thickly upright that it made your drenched thighs squeeze. Yearning to steal another taste of that furiously strawberry-blushed fat tip. “-so big.”

Shit, Geto could feel his fattened cock jolt already. 

Hissing, “S-save it for the camera, honey.”

“Okay! Take 2, Act 1 of 1 from Cult Leader Geto.” A ringing voice cuts through your saturated air, and he’s settling back into his poised seated position on that decadently throne-like chair, you on your knees. “ACTION!”

“Messing up such an important mission, hm?” Geto spits, stern voice targeting you at your very dripping core. Sear-like grip making your throat burn, fuming, “Y’know there’s only one way to make up for it, right, honey?”

Your lips wobble oh-so-adorably when he hits them with a splattering smack! smack! smack! of his painfully hard length. Making you mumble, “Wh-what do I hafta-”

And maybe because it was part of the script, maybe because Geto couldn’t last hearing another melodic note of your sweetened voice - he’s shoveling all girthy inches of his swollen cock past your velvety lips. 

Unapologetically.

Filthily.

God…it was so easy to forget all the cameras with your tongue.

Pressing the reddened curve of his weepy cockhead to nestle hot and heavy on your tastebuds, your jaw aches with the sheer weight of his hefty shaft throbbing away comfortably on your tongue. 

And you swear you can feel big, bulbous tears welling up behind your eyes with how every ounce of blood in Geto’s body comes rushing down into his steaming length. Expanding his rotund head to grow even thicker-

“Shit.” he gasps. “Shit shit shit shit-” Brows scrunching, drooling maw falling slack. Every muscle in his hulking body bows to hunch forwards in his chair, until your tight throat was choking around the thick curve of his swollen tip. One attractively tattooed hand splayed out firmly on the back of your head, “Take it- y-yeah, take it why dontcha? If ya wanna make it up to your leader.”

God, he didn’t know if the cockdrunken way you were nodding was even real - but it made him groan just the same. 

Sobbing out a swelteringly hot squelch! of syrupy precum that drips teasingly down the already-messy walls of your mouth. “Heh, maybe ya can even be my s-second-in-command with a mouth like this.”

And he’s giggling out in an almost hysterical way, head throwing backwards when his powerful hips rut up in slow grinds. Back and forth back and forth- that have your now-puffy lips stretching around so widely around his fat cock. 

Struggling. Shit, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had.

Geto already knew his agent was going to be on his ass for veering just the slightest degree off the script.

But he didn’t care about that right now.

How could he? Not when the drag of your tongue was swirling around his steamingly hot girth in languid swivels, over and over fighting to trace every one of his prominent veins thumping angrily inside your mouth. 

You whine at the saccharine sweet taste of his precum shooting down your throat in wet sputters, “S-Sugu-”

Fuck. 

Geto hears himself whimper a pathetic noise as soon as you’re tugging yourself off of his leaky cock, pressing wet peck after peck up the underside of his messy shaft. It’s glossing in glinting lip-prints that he half-wishes he could tattoo. Slipping and sliding to sloppily plant your mouth along the bawling divot at the very end of his rosy pink head. 

“Mhm–” he’s drawling, movements as slow as gliding through molasses when one of his strong legs comes to circle around your body. Muscles flexing so tight that if he angled just right he could squeeze that pretty throat of yours. He bites his lip, “Suck on my ah- tip- c’mon, gorgeous. Heheh, yeah gimme a pretty peck, why dontcha?”

With a smug smirk, he’s guiding through trembly digits to thwack! thwack! thwack! his thick hilt in wet splatters across your lips. Only to figure out that he didn’t even have to bother.

Because your sweet mouth was so ravenously reattaching back onto him, starkly raw lips glissading down the bulge of his Prince Albert. Your deft tongue swivels in such a filthy way down the underside of his slit, cheeks hollowing as you suck. 

“Spit.”

“S’this-” you hiccup, widened eyes pleading. Spitting out a silvery glob of saliva onto the very edge of his tip, “S’this good, sir?”

Fuck, for a second there he almost forget that every one of your lines are scripted. And he deliriously wonders what if would be like if you called him that for real 

“Hmmm, dunno.” His thumb smears across that pool of precum beside your lips - popping it into his mouth tastefully, “Jus’ a bit deeper to make sure. You can do it- c’mon.”

Swallowing up those solidly girthy inches of Geto’s so deliciously. Your nose presses against those drenched tufts of black at his toned pelvis, jittery fingers coming around to massage sultry little circles around his tight, cum-filled balls. 

“Heh, think I prefer ya like this-” he’s restless now. Close. Knitting his brows rudely together, abs clenching mouth-wateringly at every wet gyration of his cock hitting the very back of your throat. And he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop, not even if the director yells cut this time. “-all pliant, n’ shutting up that bratty mouth of yours.” Geto arches his spine so flexibly - a specialty of his - all the way enough to whisper in a hoarse pant of feverish condensation against your ear. “All mine.”

Geto can barely even finish his line - or his train of thought, before with a wracing shudder, he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life. 

Oozing out the wettest wads of his thick cum, so much of his wispy white seed gushing across in dripping glides into the cavern of your mouth. Back and forth with every jackhammer. The money shot smearing all down your pretty chin.

And fuck, just the way he can feel it sloshing around in a tidal wave inside your mouth makes him groan out your name.

Barely even registering the way it’ll have to be cut out in editing later, no- all he can think about is how heavenly you were milking him. Twisting your tongue to drag out his hazy orgasm, to swipe up even more of it from his piercing, you blink up in satisfaction.

Letting it overspill. 

“Heh, fuck-” Geto’s tongue was dangerously loose now, mouth curling up into a simpering smile down at you when he’s bursting out in even more velvety ribbons of cum. It drips halfway down your jaw, washing a perfectly milky lipstain on you. Muttering, “Wish I could fuck you- god, I would-”

He’s cutting himself off with a dampened gasp, just as the chilling air on-set hits his hard erection. 

In urgent moves, Geto’s pulling out of your silken soft mouth to drag you upwards with the hand tightened around your throat, crashing his lips into your own with sudden need.

Unsteady. Sodden. French kisses. 

This wasn’t in the script - and you whine at the cool metal against his cushy mouth. A tongue piercing. Shit, he had one to match his dick.

Swirling it across your own lips, Geto hears you moan in that sweet voice of yours just as you taste him - taste yourself on him - and he’s sucking on your tongue just as you did with his cock. Pooling all the dredges of salty seed on his own, before spitting it back out-

“Tell yer agent-” he murmurs throatily, two fingers roughly wrangling your mouth shut. To make you swallow. His popping ears ignore the calls from the director for the scene to be cut. Finally completed. And Geto licks up the excess remnants of cum down your lips. “-to let me have ya again sometime, gorgeous.”

CULT MEMBER SLUT GETS TAUGHT A LESSON BY HER LEADER!

37 million views 1.5 million likes

Top comments:

satoruxstrongest: holy shit idk who im more jealous of ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱

unicorny: I VOLUNTEER FOR THE NEXT MISSION CULT LEADER GETO

hj.eromytits: guys is it just me or does geto sound EXTRA extra whiny in this video~?

tonykrier: No cuz I totes agree

---

Now, it wasn’t normal for Geto to run home freshly after a shooting and…research his scene partner. To spend what seemed like hours upon hours pouring over every single video and picture you’d blessed his obscene mind with.

You.

An up-and-coming new actress, but already dubbed the nickname of screen queen. Loved by many for that sultry sweet smile of yours and just how gorgeous you were when you were all fucked stupid. 

Everybody wanted you.

And Geto - oh, Geto was out of his mind. 

Shit, he’s thinking through his saturedly needy thoughts, eyes locked on the two sweat-sheened bodies on-screen. It was an earlier one of you and legendary veteran porn actor, Toji Zenin, and the more he eyed the way your bugging pussy so readily swallowed each of his greedily girthy inches - the more he was fucking jealous his agent only booked a simple blowjob scene. Peering at the title-

DILF-NEXT-DOOR GIVES SCREEN QUEEN AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT.

That should be him.

The wet schwf! of clothes upon skin emanate throughout his penthouse bedroom when Geto unthinkingly drags the soft mountains of his palm down his throbbingly hard erection. Eyeing at how Toji was smearing your sopping pussy lips open, giving Geto the perfect view-

Shit, that should be him.

Holding back a low moan, “Fuck-” he scrambles to hit the camera icon on his trembling phone, all but ripping his pants down to set free his ravaging cock. “God- m’so fuckin’ hard-”

He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to right about now - the audience, or you. 

But all he can think about right now are those sparking stars behind his lids as soon as he runs the solid curve of his thumb along the bump of his swollen head. Still not fully hard, Geto squeezes his fat hilt just the way he remembers you did earlier today.

“S’all because of y-you, y’know?” he’s gritting through clenched teeth, batting those long dark lashes of his right up at the camera. “Why’d you hafta look at nhgh- m-me that way.”

God, his digits were only half as soft as yours were. And he keens at the rough drag of his fingerprints down the sensitive spots at every ride and curve. Melty mind stumbling through every mindless half-thrust into his fist.

Over and over.

God, he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again.

He’s panting - gasping. Every rutting fuck up into his hand leaving his heavy balls clenching painfully, teeth clamping. 

Geto’s never been this needy - this desperate to try and graspingly remember what your moans had sounded like through his phone speaker not too long ago. It’s all he can do to sink his sharp canines down onto his fist, desperately holding back whimpers upon whimpers that threaten to spill out into the open.

Yet, they do, anyway.

“M-make me so fuckin’ horny, honey-” he’s swiping at the lazy trickle of drool down the edges of his drunkenly upturned grin. Puffing away the long, inky hair curtaining his eyes to splay out across the bed. “Such a perfect body ya have- such a perfect pussy. Wish I could fuck it.”

Because that delicious arch in your back was practically burned into Geto’s mind, how your slutty cunt was slobbering down gloss after gloss of your sweet, sweet juices down Toji’s fat cock. He’d been massive - rivaling Geto, honestly - and he couldn’t help but muse whether you’d take him that well, too. 

Would you cry out and beg for more? 

Would you bat your lashes and tell him to slow down- only to huff and puff in that naughty way of yours when he does?

You were…you were so pretty. And all he ever wanted to do was wreck that equally pretty pussy of yours, and ruin your makeup, and you. 

You you you you-

Geto’s wrist aches down his tall shaft, stuttering up and down, he flicks his thumb wetly underneath his sensitive slit. Neatly grazing his manicured fingernail underneath the glazed bump, “I’d ruin ya, y’know?” Geto chokes out, and he doesn’t even have to fake the purring moan in his tone. The way his voice lilts embarrassingly higher in volume and pitch, gliding all the way up to nudge in wet peppered kisses across his chilling piercing. “Would make ya shut up on m’cock- hngh- until ya can feel my piercing branding into ya. Ruin everyone else f-for ya.”

God, the camera was so shaky right about now - and he half-wonders whether he wants to post this. Nothing like the usual professional set-up you’d usually see on Geto’s promotional tweets. 

And then shit, just the thought of you actually seeing this video has him almost dropping his phone onto the dampened silken sheets below. His overly saturated mind liked to think that you’d like it, that you might even slip your own soft hand down into your flimsy excuse of panties.

“Fuck- fuck.” Geto bounces his head back onto the plush pillows, thighs shuddering even further open, catching every pearlescent bead of precum being smeared down his thickening length. Filthy. So fucking filthy. Making him arch- “Look what you do- look how you’ve got me- fuck-”

He was practically humping up like an animal now. Out of control. Each moan breaking into a whine in a way that Geto can’t stop even if he wanted to. 

And the more he thought about you the more-

“Oh h-honey-” One of Geto’s thumb trails their way down to press down at the very middle of the twitchy curve of his balls. Hard. Hiccuping back a mewl of your name, he’s nodding like he doesn’t even realize. “M’gonna cum hah- m’gonna cum, okay? You’ll hafta take it all t-take it hngh-”

And it’s just a few more merely sloppy grinds before Geto’s spurting out in thick streams of cum. So much of it.

He’s fucking his fist like he wishes it was you. It’s making such a mess down his greedy fingers, coating down to his wrist in a gleaming sheen of creamy white. Easier to make him slip up, up, up, and down his swollen, red shaft trying to dredge up something delicious from the very ends of his weepy divot. 

He lets his phone drop, thick thighs straddling upon each side of the screen to jerk his achy cock off like your pretty face was just underneath him. Furious. Fast. A low ah! ah! ah! rasping through each breath.

God, his fingers weaken around his cock. Moving as if on auto-pilot when he circles his trickling wet fingers around his own rosy pink nipples - all glistening down his tattoos as if they’d been laminated, they made for the perfect wet dream - then all the way up to suck on them. Cleaning. Tasting himself.

Fuck, wishing it was your hand.

Wishing you were here.

All Geto could think about is if you were here right now, then he’d swipe his blushing tip down your lips, instead - reel you into a dripping wet kiss just like before. He grunted at just how badly he wanted to taste on your candied tongue again-

Still so sensitive from the shoot with you before, Geto’s breathing out in heaves, pants. Tears prickling at the very ends of his bleary eyes, he bites down furiously on his coral pink lips, trying for the fucking life of him to not cum in blanks right now. 

He does, actually.

Again. And again and again- spazzing cockhead jerking out a few wispy wet ribbons of his seed, before giving way into nothing. And if you listened closely to the crackling audio, you could almost hear Geto whimper.

Yet, he doesn’t even notice until his thumb swipes shakily onto that red end button on the video.

Doesn’t even register until he’s pulling up his infamously lewd Twitter account, the voice of his agent ringing in his pounding ears from today on something about “promo for your upcoming video” with every few hasty clicks on-screen.

Geto posts.

And he doesn’t even glance a second time at the screen before darting back into his browser history, searching ravenously for any more morsel of you he could dig up.

Because Geto Suguru might just be addicted.

@GetoTheCursed: For @ScreenQueen

2.6 million views 364k likes

Top replies:

moresenpaimore: holy shit the lighting? the shakiness? the whimpers? ITS ALMOST LIKE HE POSTED JUST AS HE CAME DADDY YOURE SPOILING US!!1!111!! 

tjzenin: Good taste, kid. - Toji x.

ScreenQueen: <3

---

“Y’look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” Gojo’s angling your head just enough for the blinking camera to drink in that milky trail of slick trickling down the corners of your puffed-up pussy lips. Musing at how it probably couldn’t capture half as how pretty you are with his massive cock bullied snugly into your strugglingly bulging cunt. “Isn’t that right, Suguru?”

“Heh-” The other man only shifts his legs to manspread more comfortably on Gojo’s plush mattress, leaning back on two elbows. “Don’t I know.”

hj.eromytits: ahhh~ a suguru and satoru stream my life is complete~ screen queen is so sexy too~

444stayze: WE NEED MORE COLLABS LIKE THIS SATORU PLEASE

chocho: she’s so…beautiful 

*chocho donated 690 chestnuts*

If Geto Suguru was the king of videos, then Gojo Satoru was the king of streaming. Wracking thousands upon hundred thousands - perhaps close to millions - that watched him strip down and bare the winking camera with his cocky, girthing inches. And today, he just-so-happened to have a special guest.

Two, actually, after hearing about your latest film with each other.

His long-time best friend, and the rookie actress he’d been just as obsessed with lately. And the tons of viewers right now were loving this combination.

Your greedy hips squirm ravenously, jostling Gojo’s cock to swirl in syrupy, circular swivels inside your gooey walls. Yet, you couldn’t do anything with the thick, black blindfold wrapped around your two wrists - a staple of his persona. “G-gojo-”

Smack!

All five of his splayed-out fingers come down harshly in a swat against the curve of your ass, and Geto can’t help but gulp heavily at the sinful way it makes your flesh jiggle. 

Gojo’s tangling a vice-like grip into your scalp - eyes wide, wild, where he’s leering down at you. “Now now, you’re s’pposed to look at hah- me.” he whines. Shit- when had you even turned to look at Geto. “And what was it I told ya to call me?”

“T-To-”

Smack!

“Louder.”

“Toru!” you squeal, feeling his leaky tip brush up in a wet nudge against your bulbous g-spot. Expanding even girthier to hit at that little bullseye over and over-

“Such a s-slutty voice ya got on ya.” His sharp hipbones mashing against tender skin, stifling balls stinging your ass, juddering knees bouncing even faster. It was so fucking addictive sheathing himself inside the tight channel of your cunt. So hot and cozy inside that Gojo has to force himself to rip his line of sight onto Geto just behind you, “Does sh-she always sound so sweet, Suguru?”

And Gojo’s not surprised - not even the tiniest bit surprised - to find that his best friend already has his silken button-up ripped open, ringed fingers stuffed into his too-tight pants. 

Addictive…you were so addictive. 

And he’s almost jealous that he’d introduced you to him on this stream.

Tearing away his clinking belt to knead over his rock-hard erection, drawling the very rounded edges of his fingers down his cupped balls. Squeezing. Hard. Geto looks so utterly like he has to force himself to breathe out something even slightly coherent, “Hmmm, hard to say with the way she was on her knees last time- heheh-”

“Such a dog ya are-” Gojo’s rolling his watery eyes, before pecking a wet glissade of his lips down onto yours. The woosh of donations flood the chat as soon as Geto’s letting out a roughened growl, “Dontcha ngh- a-agree, sweetheart? So mean, hm? The chat certainly seems ta think s-so.”

“Mhm–” you’re crying out - difficult, with the way he was sunken in so solidly inside of you. At Gojo’s sheer mercy. 

Mercy that was slowly dwindling away with each and every slobbering fuck up into your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but let your jaw drop into a needy oh when his ragged thrusts get faster. More desperate. 

Peppering damp pecks along Gojo’s innocently pink lips, “S-so mean, Sugu.”

“Ya hear that?” Gojo swipes his thumbs across your sloppy folds to bear you even further into the camera, and with Geto’s lolling gaze he could just peek the way your sodden hole was gaping widely. How his peaking veins massage your entrance through and forth- “Our girl says you’re a meanie, Sugu~”

candybah: GETO LOOKS MADDD 

k-en.j: she looks so cockdrunk already honestly idk who i want to be here

pumk1nhe1d: Love how Satoru winds him up. Wonder if her poor cunt can take both??

And Geto knew that your voice was absolutely dripping with teasing want, he knew that it meant nothing more than a simple line to get him worked up. But the way Gojo’s jittery arms were engulfing you to stick to him so closely, his knowing smirk flashing Geto’s way had him huffing out a pointed few profanities. 

“Fuck that.” he’s spitting getting up onto two unsteady feet to shuffle even closer to where your bodies were rocking the decadent bed violently. Tying back his dark tresses urgently - and oh shit, that’s when you know he’s serious. And one of Geto’s fingers smack! away Gojo’s, searing his own possessive grip onto the blindfold to haul you against his washboard abs. “Open.”

Fuck, it’s just about all that you can do.

Slopping out your tongue to present your glistening tastebuds - right on par for Geto to be splattering a thick wad of saliva. 

Letting the translucent slick sift across your mouth, and with years in the game, Geto Suguru already had perfect aim. He could’ve already made an easy, clean work of spitting in your mouth.

But, no, he’s speckling wet little messes around your lips on purpose. Swiping it away with the very back of his slender fingers, “Now, would you care to repeat- that?”

Every truncated drag of his moans is punctuated by a ragged rut of Geto’s hips against the globes of your ass. The remainder of his free hands being sure to press your arched body even further backwards into him. 

You feel him throb against your heated skin, his fat girth jostling to make you hump down on everything from the very globular edges of his tip all the way down to where his fat balls were kissing up into you stickily. Gushing out steaming hot wave after wave of precum that formed delicate strings to snap!

Smack!

“C’mon now, sweetheart~” Gojo’s slow tut makes you squeal. “S’not nice to leave someone hah- hanging.”

Batting your teary lashes up at Geto, you’re struggling through your relentless restraints to try and crane up into a kiss. And Geto - ever the bully - makes you work for it, barely moving. “M’m-sorry-”

“That’s not what I asked-” his hot breath puffs up dangerously to fan your ear. Cool rings on his digits burning a blazing pathway up to your neglectedly hardened nipples, making you keen out such whiny sounds when he pinches. “Tell me what you said.”

“S-said-” you’re sobbing out. The double stimulation of Gojo’s ravaged cockheadbumping up into your spongy cervix, and the way that Geto’s thumbs were swirling over in pressurized circles over your tits too much. “-said you were m-mean hngh- didn’t mean i-it ah fuck-”

“Are you sure?”

“You really are s-such a hngh- bully, Suguru.”

“Tch, shut up-” And Geto would never admit the way that he was humping you like such a dog. Panting - heaving, practically - with every sodden grind, his teeth tug harshly on your precious ear lobe. “-at least I’m gonna be the one t-to make her cum.”

Gojo’s rolling his eyes, pecking a sudden crash into the very same spot of your g-spot. “No I will.”

“As if, ya had to borrow my camera t-today jus’ to capture how gorgeous she is.”

Both Gojo and Geto’s lips mesh into yours now, tongues bumping into each other, swirling across yours so lewdly. Sucking and nibbling along any inch of yourself that you would give them. Anything that they could take. 

He’s bucking his hips sloppily, drawing wet gashes between your pre-soaked lips, and nudging against where Gojo was buried so deep. Too much.

Murmuring into your lips, Geto giggles - giggles every-so-drunkenly in a way that made the stream chat flood. “Heh, if ya really mean it then cum f’me, honey.”

Fuck- then, you do.

It’s hitting both you and Gojo like a sudden semi-truck. 

Yelping out a saturated mixture of what sounded like both their names before your gushy walls squeeze tightly. So fucking cozy that Gojo has to stuff one of his long fingers into your quivering hole just to scissor your entrance open, to fuck you through your high.

His fat girth edging you through peak after peak of bliss, your toes curl, mouth still latched firmly with Geto’s. Spazzing cock bawling out a few silvery strings of white down your back - just barely. “My good girl- good- hah- fuckin’ girl.”

“Awww. Look, Suguru-” The other man titters, bringing up his free hand to swipe across your now freshly wet cheeks. “Ya really are a meanie, huh? You made her cry.”

Geto only rolls his dark eyes, that particular remark making him take it out on you - because oh, he might not be fucking you tonight, but it was so utterly fun to rip out those whiny syllables from your pretty mouth. He’s tugging on your nipple with one hand, the other dipping slowly to swat! at your plump clit. “Well, I also made her cum.”

“Hah? No way, that was me-”

“I’ll beat you up right here, right now, Satoru.”

#1 RANK satoruxstrongest: got two special guests! tonight is going to be fun ww `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧

51 million views 4.8 million likes

Top donors:

unicorny: WOAH when Geto SPIT?? And when they were arguing?? My apologies, sir, I did not know you were about that life (she’s so lucky me next)

honey.bunney: LITERALLY MY WET DREAM OH MY GOD BI PANIC I LOVE THEM

king0fcurses: lmfao weak. Invite me on the next stream and i’d show her a better time.

---

God, times like this, you almost hated your profession.

Because yes, despite everything, the pay you received was staggering - but absolutely no amount of money was enough to compensate for the complete and utter asshole that was Naoya Zenin. 

And especially not filming with him.

A nepo baby that had climbed his way through the ranks with the help of his family name; most of his audience came to watch him fail utterly pathetically at trying to boss his co-stars around and ultimately end up whining with just the slightest little squeeze of your cunt. 

To watch him be broken and sobbing for mercy - exactly the way you preferred him. 

Anything but this-

“-c’mon- just one night, baby-” Naoya’s purring voice sleazes across your ears, and you ignore him to clutch your thin robe even tighter around your body. Thankful that the filming and clean-up was finally over. “Promise I’ll have you seeing stars.”

When he didn’t even have you seeing your climax? You want to ask, but unfortunately hold back - for your agent’s reputation, if anything else. 

Plastering on an almost-painful faux smile, “I think we spent more than enough time together on-set.”

With that, you shift off the bed to weave determinedly through the bustling camera staff and the director calling out for the editing crew - you didn’t even know where you were going, at this point. 

But Naoya Zenin was persistent, if not anything else. 

Catching up hurriedly, his fingers tap down the side of your shoulder, gliding over the peaking strap of that pretty pink bra you’d worn just for the shoot today - something special your very own viewers had picked out. 

You stand stock-still in the middle of the room when he murmurs into your ear, “Playin’ hard to get isn’t cute, y’know. Just give in-”

SWAT!

“Excuse me-” You’re grinning through the slight sting at the back of your hand - because oh, it was impossible not to smile at the utter look of shock on Naoya’s sharp features the very instant his hand had been smacked away mercilessly. Fuming. Undeterred, your eyes shift down warningly between his legs, “-before I make sure you can never work in this industry again.”

“W-wait-”

But who would bother to wait before making their escape? Not even looking - not even caring - about where you make your sudden strides to. 

SLAM!

The door closes. Hard. 

And you breathe out a shuddering sigh of relief when the cacophony of noise from outside bleeds away into nothingness, like a stifling little cocoon inside.

Fuck- where had your feet even taken you?

It takes a few blinking seconds at the rows upon rows of skimpy lingerie and outfits for you to realize that you’d shut yourself in the costume room just outside of your current set. And a few more seconds to realize that you weren’t alone-

“Oh!” you gasp. And you don’t even know whether to look - where to not look at the absolute wet dream in front of you. 

Geto Suguru was standing unabashedly in the middle of the room, long hair splayed out across his back - and you could count every swirling tattoo of his. Because he was painfully shirtless. Showing off the sculpted ridges and curves of his muscles that flexed a just a little tighter whenever your greedy gaze was dancing down his bulging biceps, his inked hips, his-

“Cat got yer pretty tongue, honey?”

“Wh-wha-” you sputter. Fingers scrambling upwards to cover your eyes - before realizing how futile that is with how you’ve seen everything already. “Cat got your ability to change in the changing stalls instead of where everyone can see, Geto?”

He cocks his smug head, grinning down at you. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re complaining, though?”

“You’re too much.”

Throwing that thin cotton t-shirt grasped within his digits somewhere off to the side - perhaps to toy with your sanity even more. He crosses his thick forearms, showing off every bumpy vein of his. “Besides- I was here first- helping out ol’ Nanami with a costume. The more important question should be why the Screen Queen of all people is barging in here?” Lips quirking attractively upwards, “Wanted to see me shirtless again so badly, hm?”

You did.

“You wish.” 

You’re rolling your eyes, and you never knew how close someone could get to you just within that split-second. Because you’re already feeling the feverish rush of his ragged breath against your features, skin burning mere inches from yours. 

Close. 

With a gulp, you’re careening back against the velvety walls. “More like wanted to run away from Naoya Zenin and his dates so badly.”

So close. 

“Ah.” Geto’s nodding with understanding. Running a hand through his hair, he easily slips that tiny black tie into his mouth. Moving to bunch up his strands into a ponytail, “Need me to beat him-”

You cut him off, “No no no-” Frantically waving your hands about - partially because you really didn’t want him to leave right now. “I took care of it, anyway.”

“That’s my girl.” 

And something about the honeyed way he hummed those words made your stomach lurch, it had you panting out a needy breath into the almost non-existent space between you two. One of his palms splay out on the wall beside your head, caging you in. Geto’s greedy gaze daring for a mere split-second to the CCTV camera by the far corner of the room - eh, Ichiji is probably on break, anyway. “Then I guess, my next question is…”

God, he’s so mean.

So teasing.

Reaching up to trail down the very end of his pointer finger in-between the seam of your robes - doing practically nothing to hide the way that Geto licks his lips at every sliver of your skin revealed. 

Down between the valley of your breasts, down to your navel. 

Down, down, down.

“-did he take care of you?”

You’re stammering your head into a half-delirious shake, “H-he didn’t make me-”

Geto makes an almost primal snarl at the very back of his throat, darkened eyes widening. He sounds so out-of-breath already. “Make you what?”

“-didn’t make me cum!”

And oh, those words changed everything.

“Then I guess I better make up for my colleague’s incompetence, right?”

Because not only did they have Geto Suguru’s sanity snapping, it had your poor, drenched panties as well - stumbling around your ankles in a useless pile of fabric with only one thorough pull of his deftly curled digits.

“So flimsy.” he’s raising one dark brow, sharp canines glinting against the dim lighting in amusement. “Yet it still wasn’t broken- Goes ta show what a hah- great time ya had with Naoya, huh?”

“Please- D-don’t tease-”

What did you even mean to say- don’t tease you? he wonders. As if he ever could. Half-drunkenly, half-deliriously because Geto couldn’t get fucking enough of anything but the way that your pretty pussy was winking up at him with a glistening sheen. So puckered and ready for him that he wanted to give her a little kiss. 

A French kiss.

“Shhh- better keep ‘er quiet f’me, gorgeous-” he’s chuckling, hurried now that his knees clatter to the floor with a loud bang! Maybe it hurt, maybe it didn’t- Geto didn’t fucking care. “Because m’not going easy on you.”

And with a raw drag of his heaving inhales, he’s drinking in your mouthwatering essence. Greedy.

Glissading up the very slit between your puffy pussy lips, he’s curling his thumb meanly into your sloppy hole. Circling around in practiced, purposeful little swipes. 

“G-Geto–” he’s quietly admiring the way it rolls off of your tongue, and fuck he’s never been one to be cocky over his own name but right now it was so fucking impossible not to be. Batting long, dark lashes from between your trembly thighs, “So mean, y’know that?”

Oh, you little minx. Geto’s brain flashes back to the stream with his best friend-

And he can’t help the sultry rasp of your name at the very back of his throat, the way his ringed fingers come branding down in such a dangerous swat! right against the plump edge of your clit- barely grazing your sensitively beading peak.

A warning. 

“What was that?” he spits. Followed by a literal wad of his syrupy saliva right onto the slope of your hole watching the splatters speckle across your drooling cunt. It felt so possessive. “If I’m so mean, then you should find it- heh, sooo fucking easy to stay quiet, hm?” Wild eyes locked with yours - you’ve never seen this look anywhere in Geto’s films. Anywhere. “Wouldn’t wanna be caught with the big- bad- meanie-”

Shit, it was something to tease him - something to get on your longtime idol’s nerves. But you’d never have expected the effect that it would have.

Because Geto was ravenous when his lips are placing a messy kiss onto your own - your other ones. Meshing a sultry glide of his tongue between your swollen folds, his tongue piercing so cold against your tight ring of muscle.

He wasn’t easing you in.

He wasn’t showing you any mercy or regret when Geto stuffs his face as deeply into the heaven between your legs as he could go. And it almost hurts him when his nose smushes harshly into your sensitive nub, when his jaw aches with just how much farther he couldn’t sink into your pretty pussy. 

Groaning, one of Geto’s splayed-out palms wrangles your ever-weakening legs onto his broad shoulders, the other toying taunting circles sailing all over your clit. Because he wanted more more more-

“Ngh- fuck!” Your unsteady fingers dangle their way through his silken strands - as soft to the touch as they looked. And you tug when you feel the silvery cold metal dart against your melty walls - not that it moved him even an inch. “Fuck that feels so good-”

“I know-” he’s smirking up at you. “N’ it sounds like e-everyone out there s’gonna know, too- heh. I don’t mind.”

God, that’s when it hits you to lower the volume of your honeyed moans. Biting down on the knuckles of your free hand, you level him with a glare. 

“L-look who’s talking-”

Geto only chuckles through the sopping wet squelches he’s reeling out from your cunt. Fingers now dripping downwards with a final pinch to your clit and onto your hole. “S’not my fault your p-pretty pussy’s so talkative, honey.”

“G-Geto-”

“Shhh, lemme hear her talk. Please?”

You gasp when you feel him plowing a trail of his thick digits into your already snugly-filled channel. Such a tight fit with both Geto’s rummaging fingers and his toasty tongue slurping up every bead of your juices. 

They’re swirling around you with reckless abandon, no longer the expert methods and tricks you were used to. No, Geto was pumping his fingers into you solely because he was addicted to the feeling. 

To the loud slurps and squelches resounding from down below with his miniscule movements.

“Heheh, yeahhh- so fucking mouthy she is. Might as well have s-someone overhear her.” He grunts, feeling your gummy walls clamp down on him so vice-like. And it takes him every shred of willpower to finally part his sinful way with your cunt, to drag his lips in a final kiss down your wet folds. “Hold on- got an idea.”

Fuck. 

An idea from Geto Suguru would never bode well for your sanity.

And you were completely right in assuming so, because in a split-second, he’s reaching down to his pants pocket - pulling out a glinting silver lip ring. One that finds itself placed so prettily near the very edge of Geto’s rawly rubbed pink lips. 

One that finds itself wrapped oh-so-deliciously around your clit. Sucking. 

More. 

“Heh, you’re the first one to hah- see me with this new lip ring- congrats-”

“L-lucky me-” you manage to choke out. Hips rutting up and down up and down from the wall, dragging your slobbering cunt all down to make-out with his gorgeous features - and Geto doesn’t look like he’s anywhere but heaven. “It feels- so so- mmpf-”

Without warning, his thorough digits find themselves rudely shoved between your jaw-dropped mouth. Metal rings cold. Thick. Pressing down at the back of your tongue-

“Heheh- what did I say-” he’s dragging his mouth backwards to tug on your weepy clit. Other set of fingers picking apart your sweetest spots inside, ruthless cadence picking up. “Quiet, honey- be quiet f’me like my good girl why- ah- why dontcha?”

Truthfully, Geto himself is finding it so fucking difficult to concentrate. 

He’s so sloppy. So loud. 

He feels like he could combust with every shuddering gush of your sweet, sweet juices down the lover half of his face. So much of it that it’s dripping down into a lewd puddle onto the floor.

And he’s forced to swivel his free hand punishingly into your mouth to stop himself from traveling it down to his pants and creaming all over it like some loser. God- no- he had to make you cum. And fast. Before he loses it. 

“C’mon, my pretty lady-” Geto bursts out in feverish hot pants breathed into your cunt, mouth rearing everywhere. And the stark contrast between his cool lip ring and his mouth made you shiver down your spine in white-hot pleasure. Hot and cold hot and cold- “Can ya hear that?”

Ah, damn. Just your luck - both your ears perk up at the distance resounding of footsteps. Close.

You tug on his long strands. Through muffled syllables, “G-geto–”

Closer.

“S’alright s’alright-” he’s snickering, sounding for all the world as relaxed as ever like he wasn’t two seconds away from being caught with a fellow actress in one of the most scandalous positions for even a porn company. “-jus’ cum f’me. Cum f’me, honey.”

Your cunt was so sensitive. You’re whimpering through his fingers once Geto presses in deeply onto that magical spot. Stars bursting behind your eyes- “M’gonna cum, Geto- so close. M’gonna- m’gonna-”

You didn’t have to finish your sentence.

Because with only a few bustling thrusts of his digits into that very same bullseye, you’re cumming all over Geto’s pretty face. Splattering his chiseled chin in a sheeny gloss of you, so filthy.

And he lets you - oh, he lets you. Why wouldn’t he?

Not when this is all that he’s been dreaming of ever since he had you that one time on set, not when you tasted so sweet spurting your juices down his tongue. Kittenish kisses lapping up every wet gash of slick, his fingers strain with how furiously he’s fucking you through your high.

“Oh- oh, honey— ” The only mantra that Geto can babble out pussydrunkenly, quirking up his hips to grind his rock-hard erection against your thigh. God, he felt like he could cum in his pants right now. “Tha’s right- use me- use me.”

Forcing his jittery fingers down to your hips in a rough restraint, he’s dragging your drooling cunt up and down up and down up and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Hey- ya in here?”

Click! In an instant, Geto’s long arm span is reached over to lock the door. 

And god, Naoya’s voice was grating enough that he almost lost his rock-hard erection - if it hadn’t been for that sweetly startled mewl ripping from your throat, that is. 

You scoff, fully ready to give him a piece of your - albeit syrupy, orgasmically hazed - mind to the man outside. But with a sneaky finger signaling you to be quiet, he stands back up to his hulking stature. Growling out a biting, “Only one in here’s me, fuck off.”

Only then comes the sputtering, “Wh-why I’d never-”

“Unless ya want your lil’ idol Toji to hear about how you’ve been nothing but a prick to his favorite actress.”

It’s barely even a second later when you hear those footsteps walking urgently away, and not even two when Geto’s hot breath puffs up against your ear. Words slurring and stumbling over one another,  gliding his tongue across his lower lip to snatch up every ounce of you. “Don’t you worry-” Before sucking on the very same fingers that were buried inside you, “M’gonna ruin him.”

And that’s all it takes for him to remember something else you’d said about that very man just earlier. Something about a date…as if.

“Kiss me- kiss me kiss me please-” Geto’s mouth hovers over yours. Gingerly placing peck after peck- “Fuck- s-suck-” Not even having to finish his sentence with how your heated lips wrapped around his icy lip ring, dripping with your slick. “N’ I was th-thinking- would ya- only if you’d like- wanna make a movie-”

“Yes.”

Hah, Geto grins. Take that, Satoru.

LOCATION: CCTV room, Jujutsu X company building.

Employee count - 1 

“Fuck- fuck-” Ichiji’s struggling to push up his condensation-fogged glasses with one of his slippery hands. Fingers trembling on the keyboard when he’s rewinding the camera footage in the costume room by just a few more seconds. “Oh god- m’gonna get f-fired-”

Again.

And again.

And again and-

“Shit-” he’s shuddering out, head woozy at the sheer overstimulation. Belt clattering against the plastic of his chair for about the nth time this hour. “-she really is a screen queen.”

---

Geto Suguru planned everything meticulously - till every detail was checked off on his seasoned mental list of making the perfect homemade…movie. 

Not exactly something that he’d tried out personally before but- but who better to do it than with you? And he swears with every bit of insincere honesty inside of him that this was totally not because he’d been yearning to feel you cumming all over his cock for months now. 

Yeah…totally not.

So he planned.

And he had everything - the heady candle-lit bedroom, the fresh silken sheets, the soft music playing from a speaker somewhere across the room. The only undecided thing being the name of your little tryst. Prowling over to you sat on the bed - all it takes is a simple shove to spread you out the way he’s been dreaming of. Humming, “You ready?”

Well, everything except-

“G-Geto, how are we gonna make a movie with no camera-”

Shit, that was the last thing on Geto’s mind right now - just about the furthest thing, despite being the very epicenter of his entire career.

Everything he needed.

But no fucking camera.

Oh. 

“Shit.” he’s chuckling - somewhat gingerly, somewhat pussydrunkenly with just a glimpse of you splayed out like this on his plush bed. In another one of you gauzy lingerie sets, leaving barely anything for his overdriven imagination to obsess over. He’s scratching behind his neck, “We can st-”

“No-” And Geto looks just as shocked as you feel right now, skin heating up with embarrassment at your hasty answer. 

But oh, that only makes him take it in stride - makes him slide his hand underneath his velvety boxers to knead greedily at his thumping hot erection. Grinning, “The Screen Queen doesn’t want to be on screen? How shocking.”

But it wasn’t.

God, because he could already see that darkening splotch at your silk drenched panties. The way your lower lip wobbled with so much want - he’d already watched enough of your videos to recognize it by now. 

He’s nosing down your neck, drinking in each of your little shivers. “How do you want me?”

And all you can say is- “I just want you-”

Swat!

The rounded tips of Gojo’s fingers find themselves placing a pretty peck right on your pulsating clit, sending obscene shockwaves bowing your spine. Right into his arms, “You a-always say the sweetest things, honey.”

You hiss at the cool clash of his proud Prince Albert - and the way that one of Geto’s dangling silver necklaces knock into your chin softly. 

And he’s groaning, just throwing his head back at the flurry of stars bursting behind his eyes. Hands gripping onto the edges of his sheets, Geto slides his hips in a slow back and forth against your own. Sandwiching the circular girth of his cock between your sodden folds, they make such a pretty scene. 

“Tell me, pretty baby–” His fingers smear at the wet drizzles seeping from either side of your slit. “-do ya get this wet for the c-camera too or s’it jus’ for me?” But you’re only spewing out a few nods and syrupy yeses, gushing all around him that he can’t help but wonder what it would like bursting with him inside- 

He doesn’t have to bother waiting long.

Now, usually Geto liked to take his time - would prefer to see you crying and breaking while you beg for his cock more than anything else.

But shit, right now he thinks that a second longer he isn’t buried inside your cunt might make him die-

“C’mon c’mon c’mon-” he’s hissing at the elastic stretch of that first ring of muscle. Easing his way in to bulge your sloppy entrance all full with just the very ends of his bulbous tip. “Take it- please, please take it-”

Geto can’t keep the slight tremble out of his tone even if he wanted to - not with the way your gooey cunt was molding around his shape to suck up every inch of him. And god, was there so much of him. It’s like it was never-ending. 

“Shit-” your nails reel red, red marks down the milky plane of his deltoids. “I-I can feel you in my hngh- lungs, Geto-”

He chuckles - all the way into your lungs and he’s not even halfway in, yet? Hell, fuck halfway in, he’d just managed to smear past your swollen pussy lips to rut his fat head inside. Hissing at the clench of your walls around his sensitive slit. 

“Suguru-” he gasps, eyes still wrenched down on the way your cunt was greedily gobbling him up. “P-please if you can call that hah- fuckass ‘Satoru’, then call me Suguru, please-”

It’s all that has to come out of your mouth - a sweet, syrupy “Sugu-”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

You feel yourself gulping down every one of his solid inches, a sheer circumference that you never even thought possible- the friction between your gummy walls and his furiously jackhammering cock having you squeal-

Smack! 

Finally fully inside you, your pussy lips kiss his thickened hilt like long lost lovers, and his heavy balls shift against your ass.

“Don’t- don’t run-” Geto’s sputtering out a slightly broken plea, pure desperation wafting off of him like a heady perfume. It was contagious. And his rough fingers grip tightly around your waist, jousting up the dampening blankets all around your body when he pulls and pulls and pulls- “Fuck, where’d you think you’re going, huh, honey?”

His tone was just dripping with something dark, something you can only sputter and drool to match when every nook and spongy cranny inside is being filled up with Geto’s fat cock. 

And it twitches inside you happily - if heaven was real then it felt like this, Geto muses already thoroughly pussydrunk. 

“M’m-not running away-” you’re pouting a slick-glossed pout up at him. One that he can’t help but crane his neck down in an instant to kiss away. “You’re just s-so big- bigger than on camera-”

Fuck.

You would’ve shut your babbling mouth sooner if you’d known what would happen.

Because the rotund edges of Geto’s cockhead only swells up wider, squirting out even thicker wads of his steamingly hot precum with every mindless, saturated grind. Ones just to fit in- more and more, even after he’s finding himself kissing a wet glide down the ends of your cervix. Making sure to brand that edge of his piercing onto every gooey wall. 

“God- y’really know how to drive me c-crazy-” Geto’s dark hair curtains either side of your head, and you almost don’t notice the way he swipes up two hands underneath your thighs to press you into a mean mating press. Letting you latch on limply while he leaves to swat at one of your hands cupping your pussy, “N’ move that hand- fuck- m’gonna fuck that outta ya.”

And he does. 

The mattress creaks in loud protests when he’s pummeling you with stupidly rude clashes of his weepy tip onto the edges of your g-spot - already expertly mapped out by him now - he’s feeling the sloshy mixture recoil with each thrust. So much of it. “Such a pretty pussy- such p-pretty moans, makes me wanna keep it t’myself-”

God, he’s wanted you for what seems like forever - and he was going to take it.

Panting hotly against your mouth, heavals. Drunk on your messy kisses and the way your pussy lips were bulging with the struggle to take him - but still milking him so needily. “Tie up my h-hair, honey, wanna see that pretty face of yours proper.”

All you can do is blink back the wall of tears that’d made its home in your eyes, trembly fingers taking ahold of Geto’s thin, black hair tie. 

But you didn’t expect it to be so difficult. 

Because any moment you were even slightly close to bunching up enough of his locks, he’s planting a thorough trail of kisses down your cervix. Before ending with the very showstopper - at your g-spot.

And one look up into Geto’s half-lidded eyes told you one thing…he was doing this on purpose. 

Your legs knock-knee in an almost engulfing way around his heavily swallowing throat, muttering out in a tone that you probably thought was threatening - but that Geto found so cute. “I’m onto you, sir-”

Fuck.

Fuck, maybe you were threatening.

He didn’t expect that evil little nickname to slip past your lips - and you didn’t expect Geto to swipe up a devious thumb up your clit in retaliation. Pretty, puckering lips trailing up the valley of your breasts, “I have no idea what you oh- mean, Screen Queen.”

And despite how you were huffing and puffing, your pussy was so clingy all around him. Hips bumping up in slight bucks fully off of the bed in a pathetic attempt to match Geto’s sloppy cadence. 

Completely starstruck at the sheer pressurized thrusts you were being ruthlessly dealt with - and you half-lucidly swear you could count stars over your head.

“Do it-” His lips kiss down your winking eyes, ringed fingers cold against your own now. “-do it, honey- you can do it. Might be the Screen Queen but you’re my slut, arentcha?”

God, it’s like his words were hypnotic - maybe they were.

And you dredge up every single bit of will in your trembly body to push past the way that he was absolutely ravaging you inside. 

Pound after pound of his swollen cock, the chilling cold metal of his dick piercing helping you discover forbidden sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even realize existed. 

So merciless that he’s slipping out a few inches by accident- only to let out a shuddering gasp, eyes shooting almost-comically wide open before sheathing his way in again. Even deeper - you’re being crushed with the weight of one of his knees pressing down on your body.

Over and over-

“Wanna- hah- wanna cum so badly-” your words prattle out delicately. Fingers searing across his scalp, and the way that you tug makes him hiss. It makes him rut, it makes him slam his hips down bruisingly. “Please-”

He leaves a slurping wet kiss on your neck - and another with his fingers onto the hood of your clit. Rolling over with the angled curve of his thumb. Obviously, having you drop a few tresses of his hair- “Heh, maybe t-tie my hair properly n’ I’ll let ya cum- you know s’a staple of my hngh- videos.”

So infuriating, it makes you clench.

That sleazy grin plastered across Geto’s face was unfairly sexy, and so was the way his body was wracking with sudden shivers. Boasting down every curve and muscle, forcing him to fall onto his elbows-

“Hngh- n’ you call me the rookie-” Your smug grin curves upwards at the way that Geto was so tangibly pussydrunk, the way his hips squelch sloppier into your own. The dripping wet noises so obscene that you could feel your cunt drenching even further with each emanating one.

“God, you’re in for it-” he’s spitting out a few slews of swears against your dangling open mouth. Pinching meanly at your clit. “You’re in- hah- you’re sooo in for it-”

But then Geto sees white - and so do you.

Whether from the crashing pleasure of your orgasm, or the way that he was suddenly pumping out thick ribbons of cum into your snugly filled cunt, you have no idea.  And you don’t even have the rational brain capacity to even wonder right now. 

Because Geto was fucking you through your high like he hated you, rutting up like an animal. And you were sure that if his canines were just a tinge sharper, they’d be drawing blood with how hard he was sinking them into the crook of your neck. 

Only deeper, more feral, with every pump of his spazzing cock - gushing out in boatloads of syrupy cum. It thwacks! against the utterly bruised and battered wet surface of your cervix, before dripping down, down, down to your g-spot.

And there’s so much. 

Such velvety volumes that ooze down in creamy dredges from the very purse of your pussy lips to form a milky ring around his ruddied base. It inflates your constricting walls from the inside - and yet, still not enough.

He presses one hand down to feel for that bump where you’d been filled to the brim. Sure to add more - to paint your dripping insides white until he was shooting blanks the same way he’d done to simply the thought of you. The idea makes him moan-

No, it makes him whimper.

“Still haven’t hngh f-finished tying my hair, honey.” Geto’s mouth leaves possessive marks down your neck. And his sensitive hips dart with a simple, sullying gyration, smiling, “Either you hngh finally do it properly like a good girl th-this time n’ we make a movie or- we go see one. This weekend. You and me. Your choice, Screen Queen.”

A/N. This got LONG but OHH PIERCED GETO MY BELOVED.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[thespacebetweenworlds]

Anyway sooooooo regarding my ongoing fic. I've decided it's gonna be smutty after all. Idk why I thought it might not be

[rowarn]

IF YOU NEEDED ME !

simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)

; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

or.

he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.

Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable. 

You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.

A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.

“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.

“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator. 

“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.

You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”

He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money. 

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared. 

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing. 

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava. 

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest. 

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you. 

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit. 

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time. 

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed. 

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth. 

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason. 

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck. 

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend. 

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought. 

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone. 

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit. 

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible. 

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment. 

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound. 

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open. 

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time. 

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it. 

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger. 

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality. 

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military. 

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles. 

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy. 

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true. 

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. 

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his. 

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you. 

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. 

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more. 

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you. 

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight. 

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before. 

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss. 

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs. 

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it. 

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest. 

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words. 

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon. 

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I’m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time. 

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this. 

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more. 

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration. 

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment. 

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one. 

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe. 

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically. 

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same. 

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you. 

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating. 

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too. 

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected. 

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser. 

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering. 

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room. 

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel. 

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident. 

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down. 

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view. 

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs. 

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force. 

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open. 

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body. 

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit. 

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud. 

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth. 

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples. 

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends. 

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole. 

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you. 

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time. 

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you. 

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling. 

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest. 

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm. 

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you. 

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think. 

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not. 

And fuck, do you love it. 

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now. 

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers. 

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt. 

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever. 

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke. 

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short. 

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet, 

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately. 

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against. 

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock. 

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you. 

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately. 

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again. 

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him. 

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest. 

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on  you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right. 

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up. 

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure. 

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly. 

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs. 

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face. 

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley. 

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you. 

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved. 

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock. 

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm. 

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong. 

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips. 

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession. 

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms. 

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he. 

this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

— down bad (so so bad) ⟢

it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not. 

★ FEATURING; seungcheol x pet-sitter!reader (ft. exo's sehun just 'cause LOL)

★ WORD COUNT; 5.7k words 

★ TAGS; friends to lovers, lots of denial, a twinge of fluff,  smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; if u see me reposting this for the third time, no you didn't!!!!! JDKFGDJFKGGH i'm so sorry i should be working on one last enemies 2 lovers request, but the influx of kkuma content in seventeen street got the better of me,,

★ SMUT TAGS; getting caught, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, dom!seungcheol, praise kink, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty thing, princess), reader is touch-starved AF

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi - @asjkdk - @stariightjoyy - @jiniesclub

★ SEUNGCHEOL TAGLIST; @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx - @noveniadelia

You spend a lot of time convincing yourself it’s not a big deal.

Because it most definitely isn’t. You live in a part of the city where there just happens to be a lot of idol and celebrity residences nearby, and ever since you’ve established yourself as a pretty decent pet-sitter, they’ve been enlisting your services much more than you initially expected.

But for some reason, every time the leader of that boy group whose dorm is right across the street comes to you with the most spoiled baby princess in his arms, it suddenly becomes a big deal. A huge, ginormous, larger-than-life—

“Hey.” Seungcheol grins, already dressed for today’s schedule from the looks of it. “I heard Sehun-hyung dropped off his dog yesterday, but we kinda have to squeeze in a last-minute shoot this afternoon, so…”

As if privy to the mention of his name, Sehun’s dog—a Bichon named Vivi—barks from your living room. He takes a peek behind the entryway to curiously peer at who’s at the door, but doesn’t make any moves to come out altogether. His presence makes Seungcheol’s dog, Kkuma shrink into her owner’s arms, almost whining. 

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. You’ve played with Vivi before, right?” Seungcheol coos and you have to stifle a laugh at how he adjusts the pretty bow on her head before turning back to you. “So, uh, is it alright to double book you? I’ll be back for her tonight. Promise.”

Normally, you would’ve refused. Though you work from home, you don't want your attention spread too thin when you’re looking after a client’s pet. This is one of the main reasons why you mostly just pet-sit one at a time, but it’s as if the universe is intent on using your silly attraction to Choi Seungcheol against you—your usual terms and conditions be damned.

“Yeah, I think Sehun’s picking up Vivi later this afternoon, so it’s no big deal,” you reassure him before petting Kkuma affectionately. “You wanna go on a walk with Vivi later, Kkuma?”

Seungcheol told you once that his precious daughter is extremely picky about who gets to pet her and who should maintain a one-meter distance at all times. So when Kkuma has obviously taken a liking to you right off the bat, he knew she was in safe hands. Not to mention the assortment of positive reviews he’s heard about you from other idol friends in passing—he’d be an idiot not to ask for your help when you literally live right across the street. 

Lucky him that you’ll do anything for him if it meant you could have the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol right at your doorstep—flashing you that adorable, dimpled smile before he drops off or picks up his only child from your care.

Not like he has to know any of that, of course. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” Seungcheol groans with relief, shifting Kkuma into your arms before patting her head reassuringly. “My dad was supposed to pick her up from the dorms today, but something came up at home and he couldn’t make the trip. I owe you big time.” 

You chuckle at his gratefulness all while your heart swells as Kkuma nuzzles your chest. What an adorable little thing. “You know my bank account, Seungcheol-ssi.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I know you’re just messing around but really, you can call me Cheol. I think I’ve called in enough favors from you to be familiar at least.”

“Those aren’t favors, Cheol. You literally pay me three times more than you have to whenever Kkuma comes over,” you half-jest, startling a little when you notice Vivi circling your legs as he tries to sniff at the dog in your arms. “Anyway, shoo! Won’t you be late for your schedule? I’m sure a playdate with Vivi is just what Kkuma needs to kill the time.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he sighs before leaning forward to take Kkuma’s face in both of his large hands—pressing a loving kiss on top of her head. “You better be good, okay? Oh, I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”

Kkuma’s tail wags at her father’s blatant affection and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face. No matter how many times Seungcheol baby talks to his kid before taking his leave, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing such a side of him up close.

“Daddy’s gonna be back for you tonight. Promise. Oh, by the way, her vet put her on a sodium-free diet for a while, so don’t give her any treats. And…”

As Seungcheol fusses about Kkuma’s newly imposed feeding schedules and hands you a backpack full of pet care necessities, you find yourself zoning out—your head ringing with that one word that’s always made you a little flustered every time you heard it from Seungcheol’s mouth. 

“You get any of that?”

You blink, acutely aware of how Vivi has stood up on his hind legs, pawing at your thigh as he attempts to lick Kkuma’s face. When you realize that you’re just standing there like an idiot as Seungcheol waits for a response, you let out a dry laugh before setting Kkuma down on the floor.

“Yep, I only have to feed her once. Strictly two scoops. Not that I see you sticking to the feeding regimen though,” you tease while receiving the backpack from him. 

“You got me,” Seungcheol chuckles again. “Can’t ever say no to my princess when she gives me the puppy eyes and asks for another scoop. Luckily, you’re the one looking after her today, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Once Seungcheol finally takes his leave, you let out a long-winded sigh—pressing your back against your front door as Kkuma looks up at you with those big, dark eyes. Vivi seems to have made his way back to the living room after the initial curiosity and you’re glad that you don’t have to round up two energetic pups when your heart is still pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, Kkuma walks up to you, nuzzling your leg with a whine. 

Laughing, you sink to your knees to give her a few scratches underneath her ears. Dogs can be so attuned to a human’s emotional distress, it’s a little amazing.

“What does it feel like to be able to call him daddy?” you joke as she lays on her back for some belly rubs that you have no problem giving. 

The moment the question slips from your lips, you find yourself groaning again as you recall the tight fit of the black turtleneck Seungcheol was wearing today. How it accentuated all the features the fabric was meant to emphasize. You can only imagine how it would feel like to be caged in those big, beefy arms—

Kkuma jolts from her comfortable position on the floor when you suddenly shoot back to your feet, but you only feel half as bad for startling her.

You’re down bad. So ridiculously bad. 

Sehun comes over to pick up Vivi about an hour after you got home from their walk. 

Like most of your clients, he usually shoots a text before dropping by, but he must’ve forgotten the usual protocol. So when you hear your doorbell go off while you’re in the middle of watching idol fancams on your TV, the internal panic is very much warranted. 

Vivi bounds straight into his owner’s arms the moment Sehun comes through the door and starts licking his face. You smile to yourself despite clearly looking disheveled from how comfortably you’ve been lounging in the living room, but you’re sure Sehun doesn’t mind.

“Oh? He’s got a little playmate?” He raises an eyebrow when Kkuma waddles over to help herself to some of his attention too. Despite how he looks, Sehun gives Kkuma a few pats. “Hmm… Isn’t this Seungcheol’s kid? Or is it Seungkwan’s? Mingyu’s? Their dogs look all the same to me sometimes.”

You snort before handing him Vivi’s bag of necessities that every doting pet owner has up their arsenal. “You were right the first time. I’ve never pet sat for Mingyu before and I’m sure Seungkwan’s dog is in Jeju with his family.” 

He nods in understanding before locking Vivi’s leash in place. “I see. Wouldn’t be surprised if they started to have you look after their pets too, though.” 

When Sehun’s all set, you both discuss payments and he gives you his word that he’ll have the money wired into your account when he gets back to his place. But just when you’re about to send him and Vivi off, he pauses—glancing at something behind your shoulder. 

Curious, you whip around to see what caught his attention and—

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” you stammer before throwing your arms out as if that’ll obstruct the view this six-foot idol has of your television screen. “I left YouTube on autoplay and I guess it paused when you arrived, and…”

Lies. You were in the middle of watching every single one of Seungcheol’s fancams before Sehun arrived and paused whatever was playing on screen. It just so happens that it slipped your mind that the screen froze at a very tantalizing part of his HOT fancam.

You’re not sure how you’re going to explain to Sehun that you don’t usually watch your clients' fancams like some closeted fan, but thankfully, he’s always been discreet about a lot of things. 

“Right,” he says, obviously unconvinced but seems that he won’t press further. “Well, we’re gonna head out now. Jongin-hyung might give you a call in the next few days, by the way. He’ll be busy promoting his solo debut for a while and Kyungsoo-hyung’s growing tired of all the fur in his apartment.” 

You nod swiftly, glad to have another business prospect right after this one just concluded. “Gotcha. See you again, Sehun.”

Once you’re all alone, you carry Kkuma to the living room—laying her down on the plush cushions of your couch before plopping helplessly right next to her. Thank god it’s Sehun who unknowingly bore witness to something so embarrassing. If it was Jongin, he never would’ve let you live it down.

But instead of wallowing in your shame, you unpause the video on screen—watching Seungcheol’s fancam in front of his daughter without another thought.

Kkuma doesn’t seem all too interested, immediately curling herself into a ball right next to you before promptly dozing off. You don’t get to see it though, since your eyes are glued to the screen. 

Surely the jury won’t condemn you too badly for biting the inside of your cheek whenever Seungcheol sticks his tongue out with a smirk, right? This is an idol who’s spent nearly a decade in the industry—if not more. Of course he’s got the art of fanservice ingrained into his bones. 

But just when you told yourself that this is the last one you’re going to watch before hopping in the shower, you end up viewing a couple more of his fancams first until you make do on that self-imposed promise.

This one’s a clip from their most recent fan meeting, you think. A DON QUIXOTE performance that’s been circulating around social media for the better part of the month. While you’re not that well-versed in their group’s discography, you happen to like this song a lot specifically because of how raspy Seungcheol’s voice is whenever he raps his parts.  

When he decides to unclasp a piece of fabric that’s been getting in the way of choreography, you have to bite back a groan when he practically throws it on the stage with that domineering air he never fails to showcase during their performances.

You press your thighs together, hyper aware of the heat that’s sizzling in between before casting Kkuma a guilty stare. Though she’s just a dog, you still feel a little bad about lusting after her dad while she’s sleeping right next to you. 

You’re not even sure what’s got you so worked up today. This isn’t the first time Seungcheol dropped her off in person so you’re not sure why you’re feeling this horny from a few fancams alone. Shark week must be drawing near.

Either way, you end up quietly easing yourself off the couch so as to not wake the sleeping princess on your sofa—turning the TV off altogether before making a beeline for your bedroom to grab your towel and a change of clothes. 

If there’s a more opportune time to take a shower and wash away the impurities infesting your body, it’s now.

But just as you’re about to head to the bathroom, your phone goes off on the coffee table. You pout a little when Kkuma stirs from the sound of your ringtone—looking around sleepily for the source of the noise.

“Sorry about that,” you coo before settling back beside her, running a hand across her smooth fur. 

When you glance at the caller ID, your heart nearly plummets to your stomach.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s deep voice flits into your ears when you take the call, sounding all sorts of tired. “We’re just wrapping up our shoot. I should be there in an hour or-so. How’s Kkuma?”

“She was fast asleep before my ringtone woke her up,” you chuckle. 

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, baby.”

You tense up at the term of endearment despite being fully aware that it’s not meant for you in particular. That reminds you to put your phone on loudspeaker so that the intended recipient could hear Seungcheol’s apologetic voice.

“I think Vivi tired her out when we went to the park today,” you tell him fondly. 

“Sounds like she finally met her match,” Seungcheol laughs on the other end and Kkuma perks up at the sound of her owner’s voice. “Can you hear me, princess? I’m coming to get you in a while. Keep being daddy’s good girl for me, yeah? I won’t be too long.”

Fuck.

When Seungcheol says your name and thanks you in that same, tired yet raspy voice, you have to keep yourself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Hope the double booking wasn’t too much of a bother,” he murmurs and—god. You get that he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy to spare, but does he have any idea what his voice is doing to your underwear?! 

“Not at all,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “I told you Sehun picked up Vivi early today. It’s just me and this spoiled princess right now.”

“Spoiled, huh? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Seungcheol breathes out a laugh. “Anyway, we’re getting settled in the shuttle right now. I’ll text you when I’m at the door.” 

“Gotcha. Come on, Kkuma. Say goodbye to daddy.”

You don’t know why that cursed word slipped out of you so naturally, but Kkuma seems to respond to it in kind—her tail swishing with contained excitement before letting out a soft bark for Seungcheol to hear. Your client (that’s right he’s your client, you stupid, horny—) coos at the other end of the call.

You honestly can’t wait until he arrives to get her so you can have some real, much needed alone time.

To your credit, the shower kind of helped.

Though you just took one of the coldest baths in your life, it managed to alleviate the heat that lingered on your skin once Seungcheol ended the phone call. That’s considered a win in your book.

As you towel your damp hair, you take a peek at Kkuma who’s returned to her little nap on your couch. The sight makes your heart flutter and you would’ve snapped a photo if that doesn’t go against the rules you’ve set for yourself and your humble business. 

Then again, fantasizing about one of your clients definitely goes against whatever principles you’ve been practicing all your life but that’s not the issue here. 

Not wanting to wake her until Seungcheol arrives, you silently pad off to your bedroom, intent on getting some work done before planning what you’ll have for dinner. However, the moment you hang your towel to dry, you end up lying in bed instead of hunching in front of your desk with a laptop full of backlogs waiting for you. 

You don’t even think twice when your hand inches past the garter of your thin sleep shorts.

Typically, you’d use one of your trusty vibrators to get off when you direly needed the release. It made things quick and simple. Plus, you don’t have to suffer through the ordeal of having your fingers pruning up. 

But your brain thought it would be extremely funny if you touched yourself to the thought of your fingers being Seungcheol’s instead of yours—gathering the slick from your aching pussy as he lathers your wetness across your slit.

While you’re…preoccupied in your bedroom, you don’t hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table outside. You’ve deigned to put it on silent mode so Kkuma won’t be rudely awakened by any unexpected ringtones again, but the decision is a bit short-sighted since Seungcheol did tell you he’d text you once he arrives at your door.

Said idol is standing in front of your apartment with a worried look on his face. He texted you about ten minutes ago but received no response, which is a little strange since you almost always reply to his messages right away. 

When you don’t pick up his third call, he starts to pace around nervously. Did you go outside? Were you busy? He’s normally a patient person, but when it comes to Kkuma, he gets jittery within seconds if there really is something to worry about.

Seungcheol tests the knob to your door but when he finds it unlocked, he’s further thrown into a haze of concern. Shit. Were you robbed? Where is Kkuma? 

Where are you?

He kicks off his shoes haphazardly in the entrance, closing the door behind him before twisting the lock as he looks around cautiously. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place inside your house. The furniture is just as he remembered—not that he spends a lot of his time studying your interior—and finds no signs of ransacking.

Relief practically crashes over him in waves when Kkuma’s head pops up from behind the couch. She hops to the floor and zips straight into his arms, pawing and licking with all the affection she can offer. Seungcheol laughs, petting her to calm down before giving your living room another once-over. 

You’re nowhere to be found. 

Even if Seungcheol can just grab Kkuma and make his leave, he knows he’ll feel bad if he ditches you without a word like that. So after telling his only child to stay put at the doorway, he carefully treads around your apartment and makes his way to (what he assumes is) your room.

The door is slightly ajar and he could make out the figure of someone lying on the bed inside. With the knowledge that you’re safe and sound, Seungcheol’s shoulders relax. 

But just when he’s about to raise a fist to knock—

“Oh, daddy, please—” 

Seungcheol freezes on the spot.

He likes to think he’s a pretty decent person. Never one to think about or blurt anything remotely sexual especially if the situation doesn’t call for it. He also likes to think he has a pretty decent amount of self-control.

But for some reason, when he sees you with one hand buried between your supple thighs as the other paws at your breast through a flimsy night shirt, he can feel himself rapidly crossing that line he’s been so careful to maintain with you all this time.

Seungcheol should leave. While he doesn’t know the specifics of your love life—given that the nature of your friendship is mostly transactional—you probably have at least one person you’re involved enough with to call daddy while you get yourself off. He’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have and he still has time to recollect his thoughts somewhere else while dealing with the steadily growing hardness in his jeans.

But then, he hears you sigh:

“Cheol… Fuck!”

You’re on the very brink of the orgasm you’ve been craving since this morning when your hand is rudely yanked from between your legs. You jolt at the intrusion—fear shooting through your system at the thought of some psycho breaking into your house while you’re so vulnerable. But when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s hard gaze, you’re convinced that you’re dreaming.

“S-Seungcheol?”

To your horror (more like delight) he takes the hand that you’ve just been using to finger yourself to the thought of him—taking your slick digits into his mouth with a pained groan. The sight instantly makes your pussy quiver with need but before that…

“What are you doing here?” you ask weakly, not having the heart to pull your arm away when he looks so fucking hot licking the juices off your fingers. 

When his lips disconnect from your skin with a lascivious pop, he plants a kiss across your knuckles, smirking. “Those are such pretty sounds you’re making. Are they all for me?”

This is not happening. You probably slipped in the shower and hit your head or something. Because Choi Seungcheol—the client you’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about for the entire day—can’t be crouching in front of you right now, giving you the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen.

You swallow thickly, trying to salvage what’s left of your pride. “Cheol, I’m sorry, I—”

He shushes you by placing a finger to your lips, the grip he has on your arm tightening with each passing second. You nearly moan when he presses his forehead against yours.

“Daddy, huh?” he asks, completely ignoring your attempt at clearing the air. “You want to call me daddy that bad, baby? So much that you have to get yourself off with Kkuma lying outside?”

Shit. That’s right. Kkuma.

However, in the midst of the moral dilemma that came with wanting Seungcheol to fuck you into the mattress while his adorable daughter was waiting outside your bedroom, you recognize that this is definitely a once in a lifetime chance. 

You’re not about to let it go to waste. 

You aren’t certain who it is that lunged in for the kiss. All you know is that Seungcheol has you pinned beneath his firm body as he licks into your mouth—larged, calloused fingers gripping onto your hips possessively as you moan his name against his lips. 

Your sleep shorts come off in no time. So does your shirt. It only occurs to you’ve been grinding down on the denim of his jeans with nothing but soaked panties on when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth—coaxing out a sound so heavenly, it shoots straight through his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he sighs hoarsely, rolling his hips against your core so that you can feel how hard he is through his pants. “So fucking needy. When you get yourself off, am I the one you always think about?”

You want to say yes but Seungcheol captures your lips into another bruising kiss before you can utter a sound. 

He nudges your thighs apart with his knees, one hand reaching between your legs so he can inspect the mess he’s unknowingly made of your cunt. When he finds you wet and wanting, you feel a growl reverberate deep in his chest.

“Now this won’t do,” he tuts before sliding himself between your thighs, easing himself lower on the mattress so he can hook them across his shoulders. You mewl in anticipation and Seungcheol meets your gaze with a challenging smirk. “Is there something you want?”

“C-Cheol—”

“That’s not my name right now, baby. I thought you knew that.”

How the fuck does this man just slip so naturally into the subspace without making things weird or uncomfortable? If anything, the authority in his voice makes another bout of slick gush outside your entrance—making you pray to every single god out there for Seungcheol not to notice.

“Daddy,” you whine and the title sounds delicious in his ears. “I want you. Wanted you for so long.”

You want to curl in on yourself when you feel Seungcheol’s teeth trailing love bites along your inner thighs. The grip he has on them is weighted with nothing but gentleness but the contrast it has with his rough kisses is making your mind stutter with pleasure. 

“What’d you think about, hm?” he whispers. “Tell me all the filthy things you’ve wanted to do with Daddy.”

You nearly gasp when he flattens his tongue across your clothed core, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. The overload in his senses makes him want to snap and have his way with you, but Seungcheol tells himself to take it easy. 

He has all the time in the world to make you feel good.

“B-But that’s embarrassing,” you whine, struggling to free yourself from his grip but Seungcheol tears your defenses asunder when he moves your panties to the side and licks a long, languid stripe along your glistening slit. 

The effect it has on you is immediate—you’re writhing against his touch, fingers automatically tangling themselves in his hair as Seungcheol helps himself to your cunt like it’s his first meal of the day. It doesn’t help that he’s so enthusiastic about eating you out. Almost like he’s thought about doing it at least once in his life.

“Daddy, please—” you whimper. “Need you…inside.”

“Not until you spill the dirty details, princess,” he chuckles before letting your panties snap back against your poor, sensitive cunt. You jolt at the contact, tears lining your lashes because of how desperate you are to get filled with something. Anything.

“I-I thought about you fucking me raw,” you start shakily, toes curling every time his nose grazes your clothed pussy. “Calling me pretty names and leaving your marks on my body. T-Then when I’m about to c-come, you tell me to hold it in ‘cause you want to come together. You’d also tell me how much of a good girl I am…”

Hm. An obvious pillow princess that likes being praised. While Seungcheol has a preference for calling his partners dubious names in the bedroom, he can make a few exceptions. 

Especially when you look so fucking wrecked for him when he’s barely touched you.

“I see. What else is cooking in that pretty mind of yours, baby? Daddy wants to know.”

You visibly preen at his words, further confirming his suspicions. Seungcheol has to bite back a groan at the sinister feeling that fills his chest at the knowledge.

He’s going to have so much fun with you.

“You’d— You’d use my pussy to dump your load inside me… Then you’ll just k-keep going even if I’m twitching and sensitive all over, fucking your cum deeper ‘cause you want me to keep it all in for days.” 

The mental image you’re painting inside his head is not doing his sense of control any favors, but Seungcheol remains steadfast. He won’t fuck you stupid when he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. He has more tact than that.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty thing,” he chuckles before moving his head a little so he can remove your ruined underwear. He typically would’ve just torn the fabric in two, but he doesn’t want to scare you off just yet. “Such a good girl for Daddy. And you know what good girls deserve?” 

The innocent look on your face nearly makes him cream himself right then and there. “W-What?” 

With a no-good smile, he says:

“To come until you’re crying.”

Seungcheol easily slips in two thick fingers into your sopping heat, making you cry out in a way that’ll definitely pique Kkuma’s curiosity. He just hopes his baby won’t come nosing in where she isn’t supposed to while he takes care of his other baby the way she deserves. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he sighs—loving how your gummy walls practically cling to his fingers with each shallow thrust. “Can you even take more than this? I don’t want to break you when you’re being so good for me.”

You voice out your protest against his words with a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips against his fingers with erratic vigor. “N-No… I can take more, Daddy, please please. Want you to fuck me full. I’ll be good, I promise!”

Seungcheol has been producing his own tracks for years, but the sound of you babbling incoherently is music to his ears. As he continues pumping his digits in and out of your needy hole, he puts himself back to work—tongue tracing tight circles around your puffy clit as he forces your thighs apart. 

Your back arches off the bed at the sensation as your fingers desperately claw against the sheets. It’s so unfair how delirious he’s made you when he still has all of his clothes on, but you’re nothing if not his good little girl when you don’t even comment on it—focused entirely on the mounting pleasure he’s freely giving you.

When the pads of his fingers manage to graze that patch of spongy flesh deep inside you, your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull. Seungcheol is all too privy to your reaction and you feel him smirk into your cunt as he curls his fingers to find that spot again—attaching his lips around your sensitive nub as he overwhelms you with stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands finding their way back to his hair as you desperately tug him closer. “Daddy, f-feels so good! I’m gonna—”

“I never gave you permission, baby,” he growls and you quickly whine when he detaches himself from your pussy. “If you want to come you have to ask Daddy nicely. Unless you feel like being a bad girl all of a sudden?”

You shake your head, hips grinding against the air in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on you again. “N-No, Daddy. I want to be good. Can I please come? Please? Need it, need you.”

His chest tightens at the desperate plea in your voice and for a moment, Seungcheol is honestly kind of scared of getting too used to your desperate whines. Your needy whimpers. 

How on earth is he going to go back to being friends after all this is over?

“Alright, since my princess said she’ll be good for me,” he laughs as your walls clench around his fingers. “You can come when you feel like it, baby. Come all over Daddy’s face.”

You don’t completely expect it when Seungcheol dives back into you, smothering his face in your pussy so greedily that you feel his nose bumping against your clit. He laps at your soaked folds like your arousal is the best thing he’s ever tasted—easing a third finger inside you as you muffle a scream.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Daddy!” you moan, tugging on his hair even harder as you grind your cunt against his face. “So close, so close—fuck!”

When you fall over the edge, Seungcheol doesn’t stop his relentless onslaught on your twitching pussy. Your walls clamp down around his fingers so tightly, he can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you on his cock while you ride out your orgasm. 

The syllables of his name are all but broken when you frame them around a high-pitched keen. Seungcheol slurps up every drop that trickles onto his face and he only peels himself away from you once you’ve stopped thrashing against his grip.

In the aftermath, the two of you bathe in silence—nothing but your mutual pants filling the room. You’re looking at Seungcheol with stars in your eyes despite what he just put you through and the sight alone makes him more aware of the problem in his pants.

“Daddy, do you want—”

“No,” he says immediately and he feels bad just as fast because of the disappointment that crosses your face. “I mean—fuck. I want to fuck you dumb, princess. I really do. But I also really like you and it’ll be a chip on my conscience forever if I do that without taking you out on a proper date first.”

It takes a moment for his confession to completely occur to you and when it does, the dazed look in your eyes makes way for utter shock. Seungcheol wonders if he should be offended.

“You…like me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pretty busy guy. I don’t just let anyone come on my face.” 

You gulp. “For how long?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “A while. Now are you going to let me take you out on that date one of these days or are we going to have to pretend this never happened?”

You scowl at him. It doesn’t help that he still has that tightly fitted turtleneck on—distracting you from the topic at hand for a moment before you clear your throat and give him an answer.

“H-How about we go on that date now?” you suggest somewhat anxiously. “I mean, I was already thinking about where to get dinner after this, and…” 

Taking him by surprise, you lean forward to cup your hands over his ear—a devious smirk curling on your lips.

“Maybe you can fuck me dumb right after.”

Long story short, your first date with the idol you’ve been crushing on is a big hit. Right after getting himself to calm down (A.K.A., taking care of his hard on in the privacy of your bathroom), Seungcheol took you and Kkuma to a food park that’s open until midnight. 

It’s over dinner that you fess up and tell him the origin of your newfound daddy kink. Seungcheol has the gall to laugh in your face at your admission and you swear you’ll never pet sit Kkuma ever again if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Aww, baby,” he coos, pinching your cheek for added effect. “You don’t have to call it pet-sitting anymore. Now that we’ve established how much we actually like each other, don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it…co-parenting?”

Unwittingly, you receive his words with a scowl.

You want to smack him upside the head. Just because he’s a confident little thing on stage doesn’t mean he can just bring that side of him in a real life conversation. But for all your adamant bravado of insisting he’s being full of himself…

You honestly don’t mind.  

⟢ end notes: yay! you got to the end of my delusions!!! that said, thank you to nova @duhnova and indi @playmetheclassics for title help and going through this spur-of-the-moment filth for me!! rip to the original genius title, daddy's good girl(s) bc tumblr wants to censor it so badly LMFAO

i don’t have anything else to say aside from i’m so sorry choi kkuma

[chuluoyi]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

[mahgyu]

Toji smut + N$FW audio

• minors do not interact! 

──── You are the little doll that Toji uses as his cum dump, and you like it.

When Toji starts penetrating you, your body immediately ignites with pleasure. With his large male body pressed against yours, his chest crushing your sensitive breasts and your intimate area throbbing, a pleasurable pain takes over your private parts. "No matter how many times I fuck you, you stay so tight..." Toji murmurs in your ear. "When we're done here, I'll leave you all opened up... That's a promise, little doll."

Toji forces his hips back and thrusts forward again, no pity or mercy from your inner walls. He then pulls your legs up, resting them on his shoulder, kissing your heels and squeezing your breasts, making you moan louder. Your eyes fall on his sculpted body, and noticing your hungry gaze, Toji chuckles casually, messing with your senses. "Can you turn over for me? I want to fuck your pussy while leaving my handprint on that ass."

You turn around, shamelessly rubbing your ass against his cock. "Like this?" you ask teasingly. "That's it, princess, just like that..." Toji whispers, almost groaning, as he penetrates you again. Your slippery insides prevent the same earlier pain. "So fucking hot" he says, practically growling, as he lands a heavy slap on your buttock. "T-toji... don't be cruel... Go faster, please" you beg, as he slowly thrusts into you in teasing.

And Toji picks up the pace, sinking his rough fingers into your hips, squeezing your breasts, pulling your hair, and slapping your reddened buttocks. His moans and low curses mix with the dirty sounds of both bodies colliding. When you're already trembling and tired, he leans over your back, reaching his arm over your shoulder and making his hand come into contact with your neck where he squeezes with some force. "You like it like this, don't you? You like me squeezing your neck until you can't breathe." He presses harder, making your breathing more difficult as his cock punishes your intimacy severely. Small tears stream down your cheek and Toji laughs wickedly, groaning so sensually and vulgarly by your ear.

⠀

⠀

As promised, Toji's version! (I think it's important to point out that the giggle in the middle of the audio killed me 🥵)

Which one do you suggest should be next?

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

[aajjks]

i only said you’d get dumped because you cockblocked us </3