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grabby-smitten · 3 months ago

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Concrete Jungle: King of the beasts

Summary: Buying a hybrid was not what you had in mind when you asked for independence. Sylus didn’t like humans but his owner was the exception.

Subjects: Albino lion Hybrid!Sylus x F!Reader

Word count: 4.1k+

Content Warnings: Hybrid AU, smut, owner reader, kissing, cunnilingus, P in V, breeding, cnc if u squint really hard, biting, textured tongue. Use of words like predator/prey, cunt, pussy, kitten. Not edited and no beta.

A.N: I learned that big cats can’t purr and I was so disappointed. Oh, well….ah! I might do one for each li. k bye 💋

“Are you sure, I need one?” You’ve asked your parents that question for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, a hybrid is a good caretaker and it would make us feel better knowing one is protecting you.” Your father answered with a tired smile, understanding your uneasiness but they weren’t going to change their mind.

Moving out and finally becoming independent was just one step away from happening. Your parents were against it at first. Coming from money means someone will always be after your trail, danger and they had overprotected you, their only daughter since… well, even before you were born. They weren’t able to have natural children so you were conceived through artificial methods. Which, according to your parents, was a whole ordeal and suffering. Details that you rather not know.

It was time, though, to deep your toes into a world of your own. You wanted freedom for once. No dozens of bodyguards, no tracking devices and no fear of the unknown.

The part of convincing your parents was hard. No, after no, after no. Until, the head of security, taking pity on you, suggested buying a hybrid for you. Not just any hybrid; one specially made to protect and serve.

Now it was your turn to profoundly refuse. Everyone had one and those who didn’t, desired one… like some kind of accessory. It sickened you and besides, you didn’t want another responsibility. You wanted your own life! Not taking care of some… dog? Cat? Fish?

In the end, you had no other choice but to agree and here you were, in some facility. Breeding facility? Training? You didn’t care enough to pay attention, honestly.

Walking behind your parents in an all-white hall, smelling like antiseptic and gagging at the chemical sensation in your throat, you started to notice how the white walls began to turn into cages. Placards hung in the walls near the tinted glass and steel bars of the cages with descriptions of the… hybrids?

Looking up from the labels, you finally realized you no longer were alone. Each cell was occupied by humanoid-shaped shadows. The tint of the reinforced glass obstructed your vision but it was clear they were there.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a couple of strangers had joined your family. Paying a bit more attention to their chatter, you concluded they were doctors or scientists from this facility. They were explaining something about their products and that it was the best the market could offer. You frowned at their words. It was like you were buying a car… they even explained the insurance policy.

“And this specimen, right here, is our finest hybrid!” One of the men talking to your parents loudly explained.

You stepped closer to the placard and read the few words it contained. ‘Albino Lion Hybrid (Panthera leo Hybrid, large cat family Felidae). Apex predator (no natural enemy known). Renowned king of the beasts. More active at night. Preferable habitats: grassland, dense scrub, savanna, and open woodland. Nomadic male.’

Your eyes widened once your brain processed the information. This was no guard dog or house cat. Before you could utter a complaint about how obnoxious this all was, the tinted glass cleared and you were looking straight into a pair of scarlet eyes.

Sylus almost laughed at the face of the female standing outside his cell. The little mouse seemed in shock to see him there. What was she expecting? Where else would he be? If not caged and on display here— absurd, he thought. All humans that came here, came for one thing and one thing only; to purchase a wild species, a unique breed to flaunt to their peers. Sylus continuously thought about how weird these humans behaved in society. Their hierarchy dynamics were messed up and he despised that.

You felt his eyes mocking you, such deep red and the only thing you could feel was irritation. Frowning, you turned your head and left him. See how he likes grouching on his own.

Once you were a few steps away, the scientists or doctors stared at the red-eyed big cat hybrid with wonder and… respect? This place was bonkers, you thought to yourself.

“So this is the one?” Your mother asked and marveled at the sight of the lion hybrid. White-silver hair, large, powerful presence, and sharp features.

“Yes, ma’am. Our best subject. Well trained in all the aspects you requested and fairly knowledgeable which is hard to come by with these beats.”

Hearing all that gave you stomach reflux, the acidity burning your esophagus. Your dam was about to break and all your pent-up feelings would end up costing you your freedom if it wasn’t for the red-eyed hybrid. He knocked on the glass and you jumped, startled. You were surprised, he even beckoned you with a finger and again, surprised now with yourself, you automatically obeyed.

It was like a trance. A hypnotic daze of sorts. Both met face to face once again, only separated by the reinforced glass. For a moment you were distracted, the outburst you were about to have laid dormant in the back of your head.

What is this…? Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. That’s why he was so close to the glass earlier too. He couldn’t see the other side a while ago but something was pulling him there. The whole day he felt restless and on guard as if something resonated within him.

Could this be—

“Ah! Marvelous! Look! They are already interested in each other! Sylus is not showing any signs of hostility or repulsion…” a different scientist exclaimed with eagerness, interrupting whatever connection you had with Sylus at that moment.

Not many words were needed to convince your parents after that show you and Sylus put up. Papers were signed, money transferred and a very confused Sylus was sedated and prepared for shipment.

The big city. Polluted air, noisy streets twenty-four hours a day, and hybrids everywhere. Most people carried one; a human with some animal characteristics, and now you were one of them too. Sylus was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. All the things you would need to care for him were already in your apartment and even his paperwork. Name, birth, permits and you; listed as his owner.

The melodic tune of your ring bell announced the dreaded moment. You knew Sylus would be escorted here and that most of the traveling time he would have been sedated, but still the long distance between your new home and the facility he was kept in was almost six hours away. You feared a big grumpy cat.

Oh boy… grumpy was an understatement. He didn’t look happy. The moment he stepped foot in and all the straps holding him were taken off, he waited for the delivery people to disappear and he pounced. Surprisingly not on you. He went through all your stuff. According to the guide you received he was scenting. He went through your whole house; rubbing, scratching and overall making a mess.

“Stop! Hey, hmm… Sylus? You don’t have to scent my clothes.” You tried talking to him but he was not interested in your opinion, apparently. He just glanced at you and kept doing whatever he was doing before, like you were the one, not understanding. You had to snatch your underwear from his closed fist in a panic.

He went nonverbal for a week. A week! You were going insane. Yes, he obeyed. Yes, he was extremely independent and didn’t cause any more commotion besides the panty situation on the first day. But God… he was extremely quiet. It wasn’t until you commanded him to that you realized you should have read the manual until the last page; not only the summary.

“Sylus! Say something!” You demanded; going insane was not in your plans for the foreseeable future. They never told you he was mute or anything of that nature.

“Is there anything you need from me, my lady?” His deep and slow voice had your heart leaping out from your chest.

You just stood there, gaping and looking at him like you couldn’t believe he was able to make a sound. Yeah, not even his steps produced sounds. Sylus examined his human with a gleam of humor in his sapphire eyes. This face was a common one for her and he found it… almost endearing. It reminded him of the first time you two met.

“You can talk…” you whispered low and saw how his fluffy round, and white ears twitched. “You can talk!” Again, you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in disbelief. “Why haven’t you said anything before?!”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he calmly explained. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes never left, “my owner never requested me to do so until now.”

And that’s how you spend almost three days reading the darn manuals with a now very talkative feline.

You found that Sylus was more than just a pet. He could cook, clean and even force you to exercise which ended up backfiring. You couldn’t keep up with his supposedly healthy routine. A healthy lifestyle means a happy owner, and you would curse under your breath every time he repeated it.

In general, you were happy, he seemed happy and living with him was easier than you thought. Quickly, you two began to build a bond and it was a matter of time before he began to realize why it had been so easy to adapt to this human. His human which is how he referred to you.

Following the manual, you always made sure to have everything Sylus would need. Even his heats. At first, you tried to get him a heat partner and it was a mess. More like you were a mess. Even Sylus was surprised at how you ended up kicking out the poor rental gazelle hybrid in less than five minutes. You didn’t understand what took over you to be so… overprotective.

Oh, but Sylus was not complaining. Watching you almost declare war in his name gave him a deep satisfaction. So much so that he accepted to take suppressants for the time being.

After that incident, things began to change drastically. Sylus in return became a bit more aggressive towards any living creature that was in less than a mile radius of you. Growling, pushing, and even wrapping you with his tail and pulling you towards his body anytime he felt you were in danger. Yeah, you were in so much danger from the tube man… that air dancing balloon from the car wash a couple of blocks away.

“It can be that bad…” you took hold of his arm around your waist in a reassuring manner.

He’s been walking with you in his hold since you crossed paths with the inflatable dancing man.

“It has erratic movements. You never know what he might do next.”

Yeah, it was a recurring situation.

Yeah, he was prepared for everything and anything. Well, except one morning when his nose woke him up.

A sweet intoxicating scent traveled through his nostrils and shook him awake. He felt his mouth water, his canines aching, and his eyes turning into thin lines. The predator in him had been disturbed and its awakening meant trouble.

In all his years in captivity, he had never felt such hunger. Something was clawing in his chest, desperate to come out, each intake of air was pulling his sanity deeper and deeper while the monster surfaced.

Like any good hunter, he let his nose guide him through the house. Following such an intoxicating aroma took him to your door. There he stood—elaborated breathing, sharp fingers encrusted on his palms searching for restrain. You were inside; sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. He could hear your soft breathing mixing with his wildly beating heart. Knowing you weren’t aware of the predator outside your door sent a jolt of excitement through his body. Easy prey.

Was it you? Were you the one producing such… inebriant aroma? Why?

He took the handle with a death grip, his rational side fighting against instinct. He felt the urge to hunt, pursue, chase… this… this aroma and make it his own. With an internal battle raging inside him, Sylus felt the door weighed heavy on his palm, the handle burned, but he still stepped in.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, it made no difference to him that you slept in complete darkness; his ruby-red eyes could see just fine. Then, his gaze focused on your sleeping form, little movement from your steady breathing and you had no idea that a hungry predator stood at the foot of your bed.

But Sylus didn’t move, didn’t pounce on you like he wanted. Torn between instinct and duty, he was frozen in place, sweating and overwhelmed with indecision. Your scent was clouding his every sense, making it even more difficult to do the right thing. It was like time had stopped and the only thing on his mind was the palpitations in his groin for even letting his skin touch the hair surrounding you.

What was the right thing? He asked himself. Neck—cracking as his body suddenly shuddered in pain, Sylus was holding himself back by a fine thread.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You were not like his kind who would accept mating just because of a sudden heat. You were human and he had that fact ingrained into his mind. With a whimper of pain and trepidation, Sylus walked over to the side of your bed; every step was excruciating for the hybrid. Once he reached the edge, he did like every other night shared with you. Sylus, silently whining, laid beside you and wrapped his arms tightly, but this time he kept a generous distance between his hips and your back.

He was not a mindless beast. Not to you.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…” you don’t know when, you don’t know how, but Sylus always ended up sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket. “Sylus!”

“You don’t wanna know what I did to the last person who woke me up.” Each word came with a little slur at the end, he was barely waking up. No a second goes by and you felt his spiked tongue grooming the nape of your neck and soft growls shaking your whole body.

“Someone’s happy today, hmmm?” You asked in a short breath, reaching for his round and fluffy ear. As you scratched, you heard the deep grumbles of satisfaction increasing.

“Smells good…”

You felt him sniffing all over your chest, deeply inhaling, moving his head downwards. Sylus pulled your covers in a hasty manner and kept descending. Your eyes widened as you realized where he was going and your feet quickly stopped him; placing them on his shoulder and chest.

“Sy-Sylus! S-stop!” Your hands joined your legs and feet, placing your palms on his mouth and the rest of his face. “What do you—“

You stopped mid question as you felt a bit of moisture in between your legs. In a panic, your mind counted the weeks since you moved in and you have forgotten to make an appointment for your birth control replacement… which meant you must be ovulating. How could you forget? It’s been weeks! With everything happening after moving, getting Sylus and adapting to the new city. You had completely forgotten…

A muffled sound came from behind your palm and then a rough tongue pushed against your skin. You slowly retracted your arm, looking at him with apologetic eyes. It was your fault, after all.

“I was saying that you seem to be in need of assistance,” he uttered, arching an eyebrow at your saddened face.

His heavy body was pressing against the sole of your feet, your legs kept him at bay and it surprised you how… physically insistent he was being.

“What do you mean?” You quickly replied, feigning ignorance and he seemed to know your every trick because his first reaction was to give you one of those salacious smiles of his.

“You can’t exactly lie to my nose, kitten.” He almost growled every word, sending shivers through your body. “You’re fertile.”

Before you could even utter a word to contradict his truth, his hands brushed the back of your raised legs for then his fingers gently tapped your skin. You let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly moved your legs, thus giving him an opportunity to nestle in between your thighs.

“If you’re making fun of me, it’s not funny,” you rebuked, but even as you said that the pressure and sudden ache in your lower regions began to increase with the proximity and weight of Sylus.

“I’m not.” He chuckled and it reverberated down your tummy, sending deep palpitations through your core, “you didn’t read the whole manual yet, now did you?” His finger gently tugged your chin, making you stare right into his crimson orbs.

“No…” you sheepishly mumbled, embarrassed of being found again and your lack of knowledge about some stuff still in the encyclopedia-like book you were given.

“Give me the order and I will deliver, Kitten.” He whispered, eyes calling for your surrender. Sylus was pushing the right buttons by being so close, touching you, and having you cornered right where he wanted you.

“You mean…” voicing your hesitation didn’t deter him from destroying your inhibitions, brick by brick. His eyes were hypnotizing, he would give you anything you wanted and you knew you would be safe, right?

He had you caged between his body and the bed, your mind going a mile per second and your heart racing just as fast. No, he wasn’t moving an inch more and you knew he wouldn’t unless you said so.

“Okay…” you sighed finally removing a burden from your shoulders, “h-help me.” You wanted him to alleviate your aching.

“As you wish, Kitten.”

Not soon had those words left his lips, he was on you. You felt the heaviness of the impact of his lips on you. He had seemed calm while talking but his actions spoke differently. Sylus’ kiss was demanding, fiery even. His tongue took no time to slip in between your abused lips, delivering tentative licks to yours; as if tasting and enjoying you.

He kept his low throaty snarls flowing over your body, crushing you against the sheets. You could taste him too, wild, intense, so Sylus. Two bodies lay in the bed, limbs intertwined. Sylus hands traveled up your body, fingers gripping at anything he could find, your moans being greedily swallowed.

His tail kept a steady thumping behind him, lulling you deeper into his embrace. You would let him do anything, be anything if it meant this fire ignited in your chest would never cease to exist.

Sylus grasped the back of your head, fisting strands of your hair for him to pull back and expose your neck to his aching teeth. He felt euphoria ran through his veins as soon as his pearl whites connected with your tender skin. A growl and the stinging stab on your neck made you gasp, hands gripping his collar to bring him even closer as if that was possible.

In a hurry, his other hand began to tear away your pajamas as his teeth continued to gnaw almost painfully at your throat.

In a blink of an eye, you were lifted and bent. Your face harshly met the warmth of pillows. Gone were your clothes. In what moment exactly? You don’t recall and you didn’t really care at that moment.

“I knew it– fuck– the moment I saw you, I knew it.” Sylus rasped out, breath suddenly hitting your nude backside. “This was mine before you even knew it.”

He suddenly lifted your hips, exposing your dripping core to his crimson gaze. You whimpered as the cold hair hit you, hands gripping the bedsheets, and that’s all you could see. Your own fist and abundant white.

“Sy-Sylus!” You shrieked.

Your exposed pussy was invaded by his mouth, and a low vibrating sound joined. His bumpy tongue lapped eagerly, the texture making you mewl and tremble as you unconsciously tried to pull away. Now the chuffing sound changed to a growl of displeasure, his hands quickly moved to your lower tummy and pressed you back against his awaiting lips.

A mess, a wet and sloppy mess. That’s what Sylus was, still holding your body against his face. He couldn’t care less about anything other than your flavor and sounds overtaking his entire being. He slurped, nipped and spit back in just to repeat it all over again.

It took no time to have you trashing and shaking on his grip, cuming on his face, the chuffing sounds intensifying with your moaning.

Skin on skin, no clothes separating him from you, you didn’t register when he freed his body of them. Too lost to care, too much at once to have a sense of anything other than Sylus.

“You take me so well… My kitten—made for me…” he growled as he slipped every inch of him. Your warm walls protested at the intrusion as he mounted you.

Pinning you down, chest pressed against your back and your face shoved into your drool-stained pillows.

“If you keep struggling, kitten… I– fuck, fuck– you’re making it really hard to hold back” he groaned as his eyes zoomed in on your head trashing and shaking. The predator in him just looming around the corner, his female ready for the taking.

“It’s too big!” Your scream was muffled by the pillow. As your wailing reached his ears, his cock throbbed and released a few ropes of white.

“You’re being so good, kitten. Just a… bit longer…” Sylus sighed with pleasure as the creaminess made it easier to thrust into you. Incessantly, hitting that spongy spot, making you cry out as you felt more burning cum filling you up. Both breathless, both panting and an arrange of noises filled the room.

“I feel so full! Sylus! I can’t!” Tears streamed down your face at how bloated you felt, but he kept pushing and bursting inside you. One after the other; face down you had no other option but to take it.

“Not full enough— you need more…” hips slamming into you, the squelching sound of your insides consuming the silence— him bottoming out again and again. “My cunt… will only have my cubs…”

You’re not sure how long it was, you were in and out. Lost a daze, being shoved, pressed and pounded mercilessly… Sylus voice swirled through your mushy brain— satisfaction, and ecstasy running wild through both of your bodies.

Blinking once, twice. You felt heavy and your foggy vision wasn’t helping. You still felt the aftermath of it all. Legs sporadically spamming, lower tummy so heavy and sore.

“You… came so much…” you whispered in between breaths. His cum was dripping from your tender hole, rapidly pooling on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged, as he caressed your cheek.

“A lion’s thing,” he mumbled softly, pulling you closer and gently holding you.

The rest of the day you were spent. Too exhausted to do anything else. Sylus bathed you, changed the bedding, brought you drinks and food, and gave you the darn manual to finish it for once.

“Sylus!” You slapped his naked chest with indignation. “Here,” you pointed to an article you highlighted, “it says that lion hybrids can copulate for two to three days? Two hundred times in succession? Are you insane?” That explains a lot.

“I am just waiting for you to rest, humans are more delicate than I thought. We’re not moving from this room.” He deadpanned.

Your expression fell as his eyes seemed to show how serious he was being.

“I read that lionesses bite the male’s ballsack when they are upset or something,” you grinned wickedly. “I will do that if you don’t behave!”

“I wouldn’t oppose, sweetie.” He goaded. Your smile slowly faded as your threat was not working as planned. “So… I see you are feeling more… energetic.”

You threw a pillow at him before he pounced on you.

Ah, yes… a gentle protector a trusted guardian, but a beast on the sheets.

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tteokdoroki · 5 months ago

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˗ˏˋ 💎 JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★ about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner.

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive.

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void.

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs.

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present.

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?”

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown.

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing, the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.”

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.”

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!”

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.”

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father.

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.”

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal.

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.”

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!”

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.”

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes.

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.”

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl.

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?”

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!”

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!”

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you.

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different —

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft.

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?”

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.”

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply.

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss.

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?”

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl.

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the physical version of a precious memory.

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!”

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot.

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him. “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper? y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.”

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,” sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.”

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i?

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.”

“here, isn’t he cute.”

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!”

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!”

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,” though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air. “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.”

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face.

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course )

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before.

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad!

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.”

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill.

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.”

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel.

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip?

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

3K notes · View notes

dilf-docs · 1 month ago

Text

To The Devil I Know

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing, dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)

word count: 7,195 words

side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"

It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.

When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.

"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"

You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.

"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"

You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.

"Yeah, about that..."

"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.

"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"

In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.

"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"

"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.

"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"

"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."

"Did you just call me fat?"

You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.

"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"

He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"

Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.

"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"

"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"

You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.

"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"

"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"

Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.

"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"

Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.

"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"

"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.

"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"

Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And we're taking my truck"

"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?

He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.

"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"

You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.

He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:

Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.

Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.

You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.

If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.

"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.

You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:

"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"

As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.

"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"

You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.

You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"

"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"

Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"

He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.

A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.

"Damn right you don't"

You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.

"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"

"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.

He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:

"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"

But you hear.

You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.

"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."

"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.

The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.

"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"

"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.

Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.

"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"

"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.

"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.

"You'll have to prove that"

You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.

"Prove that?"

You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.

"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"

But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.

"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.

You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.

On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.

"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"

"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"

"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"

You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.

"It's... not here"

"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.

"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"

You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.

"Lost somethin'?"

You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.

"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"

"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.

You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.

"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.

"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.

"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"

You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.

"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.

Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.

"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"

She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.

That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.

Anytime.

You can't help but wonder what stopped him.

Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.

Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.

Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.

The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.

Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.

The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.

He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.

You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.

"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"

"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.

"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.

Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.

But you won't let him win.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you married?"

He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"

"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.

He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.

"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"

"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"

He scoffs. "Still hella young"

"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.

"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"

You loose your patience.

"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"

Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.

"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"

"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.

When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.

"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"

You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.

"I think I know what you want"

"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.

Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.

You haven't even started yet.

"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"

You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.

"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.

It was all so fucked up.

But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.

"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"

The praise gets to you, even if not needed.

Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.

"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.

He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.

You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.

"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.

You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.

"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.

And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:

"Y/n"

You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.

Joel said your name.

Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.

Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.

"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"

He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.

"But do you?"

Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.

He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.

But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.

Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.

He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.

But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.

He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.

"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.

"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.

"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"

Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.

"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.

"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.

"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.

"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"

So you do.

You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.

But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.

You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.

"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.

Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"

If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.

"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.

"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"

So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.

Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.

And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.

"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"

Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:

"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"

He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"

"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.

"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"

You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.

"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.

The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.

"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"

"I won't tell you shit" you spit.

"You little minx, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"

The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.

Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.

"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.

"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"

You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.

"What are you-"

"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"

As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.

"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.

"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"

You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.

"Good girl"

He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.

"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"

The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.

"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"

You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.

"Yes, I'll be"

"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"

"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"

"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"

You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.

"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"

You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.

"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"

The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.

"Joel" you breathe out.

He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.

"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"

He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.

"Sorry, Mr. Miller"

"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.

But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.

"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"

The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.

"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"

You laugh breathless, trying to recover.

"Wanna taste?"

So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"

He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.

You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.

"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.

"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.

Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.

Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin.

He positions himself between your legs again.

"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"

He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.

Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.

"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.

The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.

"I will, Mr. Miller"

He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.

"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.

You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.

"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"

His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.

"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"

The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.

"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.

This is real.

You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.

"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"

His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.

"Take it all, like the good girl you are"

Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.

He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.

"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.

But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.

tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #bfd!joel miller #bfd!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #to the devil i know series

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madamechrissy · 2 months ago

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୨♡︎୧ You Got Me Thinking Nonsense ୨♡︎୧

୨♡︎୧ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

୨♡︎୧ Summary: You're Suguru Geto's little sister, which means you've dealt with both him and his best friend Satoru Gojo being overprotective little shits for most your life. You've also been in love with Satoru Gojo that long, but he sees you as nothing but his best friend's little sister. Finally taking the steps to move on from the delusion, you decide to go on a date with a sweet boy from college, Yuuta. Only... then Satoru seems furious, even as Suguru finally approves of a boy. You wonder why he cares, and he wonders why seeing you with someone makes him sick to his stomach. Is Satoru, this overbearing best friend of your brother, actually into you?

୨♡︎୧ CW- MDNI/NSFW- Reader is 20, Satoru is 24- Reader is Suguru's lil sis, you're down bad forever, Gojo is a dick but lowkey sweet. Explicit sexual content, oral (m&f recieving) porn w/feelings and a lil plot, mutual pining, loss of virginity (reader's) rough sex, creampie, Satoru being a cocky lil shit. (Yuuta and reader go on a date but it's SFW, and just to make Satoru jealous) Wordcount 11.6k

୨♡︎୧ Comments/reblogs very appreciated if you enjoy!! ୨♡︎୧ Also happy birthday Satoru!! 🎂

You’ve had a crush on Satoru Gojo for as long as you can remember, there are just two big problems. Problem one- his best friend is your brother.

Being Suguru Geto’s little sister was not for the weak, he constantly chases any man off, big and strong and intimidating, your entire life. Even more so now, that your parents are gone, and even though you’re now in college, he doesn’t care, in fact he’s even more ridiculous. He not only scares every guy off, he is constantly dragging you around with him.

Every outing he goes to, he never lets you just go alone, even though you’re now twenty years old and he’s only twenty four. He acts a million years older than you, and he’s the most overprotective brother you can imagine. He feels it’s his responsibility to take care of you, he doesn’t even see you as an adult. You know he just loves you, but it’s overwhelming lately.

There’s also another problem- Satoru Gojo is a dick to you.

He’s never done anything but pick on you, ruffle your hair and call you a baby, a little brat, little kid when you’re a whole ass adult, and all you can do is drool over him, all these years. Satoru was a little shithead to you, all through your teen years when you wanted to hang out, he’d throw you out of their room, he’d pick on you, pinch you. Why you feel something for that ass you don’t know.

You’d pined away so long, but finally Satoru has set you off.

You’d been dressed up to go out with your friends, sporting a little crop top and a pleated mini skirt, fishnet stockings with boots. You looked cute as fuck, spinning in the mirror nervously, Satoru has surely never seen you in this way, you think, in a lacy bustier like this, body on full display. You stepped down the stairs, and his icy blue eyes had gone wide.

He’d had pink on his cheeks, lips parted as you walked down, and you think to yourself, it’s like every movie, your moment. The moment Satoru would see you’re not some little girl, you’re not just Suguru’s little sister, you’re a whole ass woman, grown and your own person. And when his eyes trailed down your body, you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

He’s just sputtering when you bounce down the last step, smiling up at him, fuck he’s pretty, and he just gets better looking every year it seems. You’ve had it bad since you were ten years old, and he was fourteen, even then he’d been so tall and pretty, and even then he’d been a little shit to you. You’d gone from being jealous of him getting your brother’s attention to craving his attention.

“What do you think, Toru?” You ask now, and he clears his throat, blush creeping further up his cheeks, nothing like the confident, cocky jock he and Suguru were, the sureness of them with any ladies, who fawned over them.

“What now?” Is all he manages, as you lean forward a bit, hands behind your back, and your breasts on full display for the tall, white haired man you can’t stop thinking of in the worst ways.

“How do I look?” You ask now, feeling your cheeks heat up when those insane blue eyes stare at you, framed by a fringe of snowy lashes.

“How you look…” He trails off now, opening his glossy ass lips again, it’s not fair for a man to have such glossy lips or lush lashes, truly.

“Mmhmm. New outfit.” You do a little spin, popping a foot out then. “New boots. I think they’re so cute.”

“The boots… mmm.” He is staring at your fishnet clad thighs now, exhaling, blinking as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Um. They’re fine.”

You blink now. “And I look?”

“Fine I guess.” He looks off, before looking back directly at you, glaring now, while you feel yourself close to fucking tears. “But you know Suguru won’t let you out like that, all… are these even clothes, brat?” Satoru tugs on your mini skirt, you smack his hand now, scowling.

“Yes they’re clothes! I’m an adult, he can’t tell me what to wear anymore.”

“An adult, hmm. Still a little brat.” He ruffles your hair and you smack his hands again, glaring now. “Go put on a hoodie or something.”

“You know what, fuck you Gojo.” He blinks now, before glaring back.

“Fuck me? No sweetheart.” You gasp, stepping back, feeling the tears start to form in your eyes. “Don’t… why are… are you crying?”

“N-no!” You turn now, swiping at your eyes, taking a breath, he literally turned you down, stone cold. How stupid were you?

Suddenly you feel a big jacket on you, and you hate how good it smells, that expensive, musky cologne Satoru wears, the one that drips money. Suguru did very well for you both, but Satoru had come from money, and you could see it in everything, from his Gucci shades, to his Givenchy clothes, and his Rolex watches, including this damn cologne probably $100 a spray.

You hate that it makes your tummy clench with need when he’s standing behind you, feeling his body heat almost, drawing you in and tempting to no end. You also hate that you find your thoughts drifting to him when you play with yourself, even when you have so many twitter links pulled up, no, it’s still him.

And now?

“I don’t want your jacket.” You say, slipping it off, and for a moment his long fingers touch your bare shoulders, you have to bite your lip at how good it fucking feels, a touch from him.

“You’ll get cold.” His voice is husky, a voice already deep and sensual naturally, now it sounds like pure sex.

“What do you care?”

“I’m your brother’s best friend, we both-”

“I don’t care, I’m not a kid! You’re barely older than me.” You turn now, shoving his letterman’s jacket in his hands, wishing instead you could stay in it forever, but he’s never going to see you differently, you realize now.

Never.

“What’s going on, you two bickering?” Suguru comes out now, and glares when he sees you. “Excuse me young lady, no. Get changed now.”

“Young lady my ass, Suguru you are barely older!”

“You’re still a little-”

“I am not a little kid. I’m over it. I’ll wear whatever I want.” Now Suguru is following you, he’s throwing his own coat over your shoulders, as Satoru is snickering, making you even angrier. “No!”

“Some creep will try to grab you, or worse. Where are you going, and who are you going with?” He turns you to him, violet eyes assessing your face, as if you’re some lying little kid. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“I’m going out with my friends, I’m an adult, I have a car and a licence, shit I work at college! Maybe I should live at the dorm.”

“No, you will not. It’s not safe, you don’t know what kind of guys are there.”

“I’m grown, Suguru.”

He blinks now, violet eyes emotional, making you feel like shit. “You’re my responsibility.”

“I don’t need to be. Now here.” You take off his jacket, and Satoru stomps up now, shoving it back on you. “Oh fuck off somewhere, Satoru, go enjoy some boyfriend time while I’m gone.”

“I’m not gay!” He says, and you smile meanly.

“Sure you’re not.”

“Just because I don’t find annoying little brats like you attractive doesn’t mean I’m gay now.” You blink again, stepping back, and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Lots of people think I’m pretty.”

“That’s why you should wear actual clothes. And why would Satoru find you attractive, you’re like family to him. You’re a little sister to him.”

“Fuck both of you. I’m not coming home tonight, don’t wait up.” You stomp out to your car, flipping them both off from your tinted windows as you drive to your best friend’s house to go out. Of course Suguru is protective, but Satoru!?

A little sister huh.

After that night last week, you have decided you damn sure will go out with someone finally. You have a date tonight with your classmate in college, Yuuta, he was sweet and a gentleman, there was no way Suguru could find fault with him. And if he did, so what, and if Satoru did!? So what.

You take the pictures you have collected of Satoru and shove them in that shoebox, the one with all the love letters you’ve written him and never sent, and kick the box under your bed frame. Fuck that, fuck him, it’s not as if he ever thought of you any different, it’s like every stupid moment was imagined.

Now you’re dressed tonight in a pretty little black dress and red bottomed heels, red lipstick on and your hair done up, earrings glittering and dangling as you catch your reflection. You tend to have a bit of a baby face, you always have, but how you look tonight is mature, womanly, body showcased but it’s still covered enough Suguru can’t say shit.

You hear the door knock, and you panic, knowing the two of them are going to try to scare Yuuta away, so you dart down the stairs, only to trip, Satoru sees you and catches you so quick you are left breathless. You’re cursing yourself for being so damn clumsy, as his hands are on your back, arms wrapped around you, steadying you to the floor.

When you’re in Satoru Gojo’s arms, you forget he’s an asshole, you forget everything but how good it feels, for him to hold you like this, feeling his steady heart thrumming against your breasts. Your nipples perk up at being pressed on his hard body, your tummy tightens at how badly you want him, when your eyes lock and you see his blush again.

You’ve seen Satoru blush a few times, but especially recently, it just makes him look more attractive even. Fuck he’s the bane of your existence. When he sets you down, his hands linger for just a moment too long, addling your psyche, wrecking your thoughts to just let him go, let the idea go.

His eyes glide down your body, mouth open, and you brace for whatever stupid comment he is going to say, but Suguru comes over then with Yuuta, and he actually smiles at you now. Yuuta has his jaw dropped, quickly clearing his throat as he clutches flowers he’s brought, earning Satoru scowling at him, for no good reason.

“You look so beautiful…” Yuuta says your name softly, brushing back his dark hair, giving a tired little smile, making you flushed under the praise, so nice to hear after constantly being around two assholes.

“Oh thank you so much, sorry I’m so clumsy.” Your heels click on the tile as you walk to him, taking the flowers and inhaling their sweet scent. “Oh you didn’t have to do this at all!”

“Nonsense, of course I did. Do you like lilies?”

“I do!”

“She likes sunflowers.” Satoru grumbles, earning a look of shock from you, and a curious look from Suguru. “Well she has them all over her shit, and wears them all the time.”

How did he notice that about you?

“I love them, thank you.” You lean forward, kissing his cheek, feeling Satoru’s eyes rip through you. Suguru tenses now, stepping between you both, and you sigh, shaking your head. “Do you want to get to know Yuuta before we go out?”

“I sure would. C’mon, kid.” Yuuta looks at you nervously with his sad brown eyes, and you smile encouragingly.

“I’m twenty?”

“Kid.” Satoru says, snorting, you glare at him.

“You all act old as fuck, I swear. Yuuta they’re not even a couple years older, and don’t be scared. He’s a softie.” You nudge Suguru, he snorts, inclining his head. “May the force be with you.”

“I really like you.” Yuuta says with a grin, and you giggle, watching Suguru drag him for ‘a drink and a talk’ aka- how your brother tries to scare everyone.

You are giddy as you look at the gorgeous flowers, heading to the kitchen to find something to put them in. You set the flowers on the counter, tiptoeing in your heels, to try to reach the cabinet. Satoru’s behind you suddenly, you feel his hard body against you, right against your ass, and you damn near trip into the counter, as he reaches up and grabs a vase.

“You show off.” You huff. “Must be nice being a giant.”

“It’s pretty nice up here. Air quality.” He’s grinning, and it makes your tummy do flips, you look away, taking the vase to the sink.

“Thanks. They’re beautiful, hmm?” The water is sloshing gently, filling the vase up halfway, Satoru stops you then. “What?”

“If you clip them diagonally they stay fresh longer.” He snatches up the kitchen scissors, of course he knows where everything is, Satoru is here more than he’s home. He uses those long elegant fingers to unsnap the rubber band the flowers are in, starting to clip the green stems.

“How do you know these things?” You ask curiously, he shrugs a broad shoulder, that dress shirt stretching over those muscles.

“I remember my mom doing it when she’d get roses.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.”

“I guess.” Satoru clears his throat, like Suguru and you, his parents were gone, which you believe is why Suguru and him were so very close, amongst other reasons, you’ve never seen two people closer. Even you and Suguru aren’t.

“I bet she was beautiful.” You say then, and he pauses, putting the flowers in the vase and arranging them.

“What makes you say that?”

“Look at you. Gotta be strong genetics. Oh thank you.” Satoru hands you the pretty vase now, eyes drifting down your body quickly before looking away.

“She was beautiful.” He says then, softly, and you feel it, his pain emanating. It is as if you feel it yourself. You gently put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense at the contact.

“I shouldn’t have brought that up…”

“No, just… I don’t like to think about it.”

“I get it.”

“Yeah I know you do.” His hand comes on yours, and for a moment you pause there, and you wonder… does he see you as the woman you are? He eases your hand off his shoulder, patting your head again with a smile, a gesture he has always shown you, and it makes you emotional.

Will you ever let this fantasy go? He just doesn’t see you.

You gulp now, looking away to where Suguru is actually laughing, and Yuuta smiles nervously at you. “Knew he’d love him.”

“You never dated. What’s the rush?” Satoru asks casually, leaning on the counter with hands in his pockets.

I want to get over you, that’s what.

“I’m twenty, Satoru. I know you think I’m a kid, but I’m not. I want things… to be desired, to be close to someone.” Your voice is quiet, Satoru’s snowy lashes lower. “I want someone to make me feel beautiful.”

Satoru swipes a hand over his face, shaking his head and stiffening. “You are-”

“Okay, okay, I like him.” Suguru says, and you bounce up and down, hugging your brother, he kisses your head and sighs. “You’re allowed.”

“You can’t tell me what to do anyway.” You stick out your tongue. “But, I’m glad you approve. Yuuta, you’re brave.” Yuuta laughs a bit, hugging you by the waist, Satoru’s eyes dart right there, jaw tensing when Yuuta’s fingers press into the nip at your waist.

“I like him too. What was your name?” Yuuta asked, and Satoru walks up, holding out his hand.

“Gojo.” He says, then he squeezes the shit out of Yuuta’s hand, smirking, but Yuuta squeezes right back, and Gojo blinks. “Damn, strong kid.”

“We’re not children, stop acting like the Golden girls. All right, you ready?” You ask, and Yuuta nods. “We’re out!”

“Don’t be out late.” Satoru says, narrowing his eyes, you laugh out loud.

“Oh jesus. I’ll be back when I get back, maybe go home, Satoru?”

“You need a jacket.” Satoru says now, and Suguru nods.

“You do need a jacket.”

“I’m fine!” Yuuta grabs his jacket off, slinging it over your shoulders, you smile gratefully, and you see your brother smile at you too.

“Have fun kids.” You roll your eyes as you walk out, hand in hand with Yuuta, and it feels nice, his presence, how interested he is.

“Not too much fun.” Satoru’s words are terse, however, not teasing. You peer back at him for a moment as Yuuta opens the door for you, blue eyes glinting in the dark night, before sliding in and shoving him in the back of your mind.

Yuuta is the sweetest, and you want to feel those butterflies, maybe you do a bit, but you can’t get Satoru out of your damn head. It’s like he’s right there, you’re unable to get rid of him, even having so much fun, even enjoying yourself like this, you can’t stop thinking of how he looked at you, how he almost seemed sad.

But how can he be?

Yuuta is walking you up now, you hand him his jacket he’d placed back on you, smiling as you stand in front of your door, he takes your hand and pulls you just a bit closer. “I had so much fun.” He says.

“I did too, so much. Should we…”

“Do it again?”

“Yeah?” He nods with a smile, tired eyes lighting up. You nervously step even closer, and his hands rest on your waist, you both stare at each other in the quiet night, hearing the distant sounds of cars whirling on the road, a gentle breeze brushing against your skin.

You’ve kissed of course, but it’s been little hidden kisses at parties you’ve snuck out to, or sneaking around at school, Suguru had been that strict with you. So you haven’t gone past it, despite your never ending sources of smut and porn links - you’re very thankful that you have a big house and Suguru is nowhere near your room- when you take care of things.

But… Yuuta’s hands slipping up and down your back are feeling good, when he leans down, you lean in and meet his lips, soft and gentle. You exhale, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands are pressing into your hips now, bringing you flush against him. His tongue slips in your mouth, and you gasp a bit at it, at how sensual he is with you.

“Is this all right?” He asks softly, pulling back for a moment, you nod, dragging him back down for more, until he’s pressing you against the wall, kissing down your neck, tickling your skin, earning a little moan. “Oh you’re so sexy.”

“Me, sexy?” You giggle, and he nods, eyes dilated when he’s cupping your cheek with one hand.

“Very. Beautiful. I am not usually so forward.” He pulls back just a bit, you bite your lower lip, hands running up his chest now.

“I like it, Yuuta.” He kisses you again, hands brushing down the sides of your breasts. “Mmm, Suguru will kill you.”

“It’s worth it.” You giggle again, letting his kisses wash through you, his sweet words, his touch, but your mind is flitting to Satoru, you almost feel terrible, but how can you? It’s not like he’s a possibility…

You wish you weren’t so pathetic for him.

“I can’t invite you in, they’d lose it.” You murmur, his hands are slipping lower down your back, looking at you for permission, you nod and now they’re slipping up your thighs, sliding your silky dress up, baring your thighs. Fuck it feels good, being so desired, and he’s such a good kisser…

“I could sneak in your window.” He teases, you grin, shaking your head, but feeling the thrill of him touching you, thumb brushing over your hip, toying with the elastic of your panties, you cry out softly just against his lips, when the door opens, and Satoru Gojo stands right there, keys in his hand.

You pause, he’s wide eyed as he sees you like that, Yuuta pulls back, clearing his throat, earning Satoru stepping up to you, grabbing your arm. “Time for good night, I think?”

“Whatever, aren’t you leaving?” You shrug your arm out of his hold, and Yuuta is bright fucking red, taking your hand and kissing it.

“Text me?” He asks, you nod then, smiling and stepping to him, kissing him right in front of Satoru, a brush of the lips but still, you feel something so petty doing it.

Maybe he’ll see you’re a woman.

Yuuta is so sweet and perfect, you wonder if you’ll one day shove those thoughts of Satoru far enough away. “Good night, Yuuta, I will.”

“Good night, beautiful.” You feel your cheeks heat up at it, turning when he heads inside his car, and bumping right into Satoru.

“Shit… go on, I’m safe.” You say, shoving past him, but he doesn’t move, glaring down at you now, towering over you, you’ve never seen him so damn mad. “What, gonna tell my brother I kissed someone? Snitch.”

“That was more than kissing.” Satoru leans down, blue eyes raking down your dress, still scrunched up just so, you tug it down a bit. “Boy probably came in his pants touching you.”

“What!? You’re so stupid!”

“I’m stupid?”

“You are. Think I don’t wanna be touched, Satoru? Think I wanna be a virgin forever because you and Suguru are so overbearing?” Satoru blinks at that, leaning back now, you cross your arms, trembling with anger and the chill of the night.

“And he’s who you want? On one date?”

“Don’t you even, I know you like the back of my hand. How often do you sleep with women? Plus I wasn’t yet.”

“Yet!?”

“Satoru why the fuck do you care? Your big brother act is getting old. I don’t need you to babysit me. If I wanna sleep with someone eventually, I will.”

He scoffs now. “You don’t even know what fucking is.”

“Not with you and Suguru cockblocking my life away. But I feel I’ll be a fast learner.” You pat his shoulder, smiling and tilting your head. “Are you mad?”

“Me, mad? No. I just care about you. I just… want you to make good decisions. I just…”

“He’s sweet, he’s got his shit together. And he thinks… I’m beautiful.” You say softly, brows drawing together. Satoru exhales now, hands gently pausing you, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“Who wouldn’t think you’re beautiful?” His voice drops an octave, then you feel it, the tension coiling, not sweet butterflies, no Satoru’s touch is destroying you, like a fire that you want to burn from. His words muddle your mind.

“You don’t think I’m anything but ‘fine’ remember?”

“What do you want me to say? If I say what’s on my mind I’ll be a shit friend, a shit person.” You blink rapidly now.

“What’s on your mind?”

Satoru’s hands slip down your body slowly, every bit of you responds, when he’s leaning so low, you can feel his breath on your lips, you can taste his sweet breath, feel your pulse pounding in your neck. “Last week in that outfit, all I could think of was bending you the fuck over, ripping those fishnets.”

You gulp now, vividly imagining it all, shaking with need, feeling your cunt dripping wet, embarrassingly. “Y-you what!?”

“And this dress? Unzip it slowly, brushing your hair back as I do.” Satoru lifts your hair now, turning you to where your back is pressed against him, you can barely control your breaths as his fingers trail over that zipper. “Kiss down your back, every pretty inch of your skin, until I got here.”

His hands press on your thighs, slipping up one, and you’re a mess when he presses up against your panties, your drippy cunt throbbing around nothing, letting out an embarrassing moan. He exhales at it, pressing long fingers up against your clothed clit as he wraps an arm around your waist, you feel like you’re in some Satoru Gojo fucking wet dream, damn near cumming from that.

“Wh-what… since… you never…ngh!” Satoru laughs softly, tickling your ear with his breath, sending shivers down your spine as you get wetter and wetter, shamelessly grinding against his hand, your own gripping his arms.

“Think I haven’t wanted you for so long? That I don’t die every time you run around in those slutty boy shorts you sleep in?”

“Then why… why…”

“I can’t, I can’t do it. But don’t think I don’t fucking want you, so badly it makes me stupid. F-fuck, feel how wet you are, that from that boy?” His voice gets darker, as he’s swirling his fingertip, coating it with your slick, your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut at being touched this way.

“Maybe I am.” You taunt, and he laughs, slipping his finger under the elastic, slamming a hand on your mouth to cover your cry, fingers brushing your slick folds, you almost cum, pathetic for him.

“Nah, sweetheart, think that’s from me. Barely touch you and…” He takes some of your pooled arousal, bringing it to his lips then, moaning. “Fuck you taste good.”

“Satoru what the fuck… do you know how long I have-” You both hear steps now, and Satoru is off you in a flash, leaving you a flustered mess with sticky thighs, panting as you try to pull yourself together.

“I can’t do this to him.” Satoru says, brows drawn together, and your lips tremble, breath catching.

“You want me?” You whisper, then Suguru opens the door, leaning on the doorway, assessing you both as Satoru hastily yanks out his keys again.

“Scare the boy off?” Suguru asks, Satoru lets out a big grin, so genuine looking you wouldn’t know it was fake.

“Of course I did, he was getting a little handsy.” You glare at him now, simply earning a smoldering look from him, before he waves.

“You little shithead.” You earn a laugh, and Suguru glares.

“Handsy?”

“Night!” Satoru bounces off to his sleek sports car, as if he hadn’t just tasted your pussy, as if he hadn’t just wrecked everything for you.

How can you get over him now? Is it some game to him?

“Handsy how?” Suguru demands, you shove past your brother, rolling your eyes now.

“Go to bed!”

“Excuse me-”

You’re off to your room before Suguru can catch you, back against the door, struggling to catch a breath. You yank off your heels, unzipping your dress, picturing his hands doing it. Picturing what it would be like to kiss him, to kiss Satoru Gojo. You huff as you lay on the bed, pussy aching, you clench your thighs together and cover your face, overheated from everything.

“What a dick. What an ass.” You yank your phone out then, dialing him now, and to your surprise he answers.

“What, brat?”

“What was that!?” You whisper, leaning up on an elbow, Satoru sighs heavily, you hear it in his voice.

“Me fucking up once, it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t happen again?”

“Why, ya want it sweetheart, my fingers on you?” You let out an unwilling moan, and he moans in response, cursing. “Do you have to sound so fucking hot?”

“Since when!”

“You’re his sister, you know what that means?”

“I’m not just his sister, I’m a woman, okay? My own woman.”

“Yeah, I know, how can I not? I can taste you on my tongue.”

“Jesus, Satoru.” You can’t stop yourself from reaching down, touching your clit, puffy and slick, crying out as you do.

“You’re not… are you… touching yourself to my voice?” Your hips buck up as you rub in circles, whining out. “You’re a slutty little virgin.”

“Satoru, I want you.”

“Want me, hmm?” His voice is too much, you can’t stand it, you nod though he can’t see. “Want me to taste you there? Drag my tongue over your slit?”

“Please, please, want it.” You’re moaning now, and he’s cursing, cock hard and straining under his jeans as he drives, cursing you mentally. He can hear your cries, picturing your perfect body as you play with your pussy, the one so yummy, so hot and wet. “Satoru…”

“Shh, what if he hears?”

“He never has before.”

“You’ve cum to the thought of me?” His words are a whisper, you don’t even know what to say, the entirety of this feels so surreal you have no sense of shame over it or embarrassment.

“Just… keep going, please I hurt.” Satoru practically drools as he pulls into his driveway, leaning his head back, hand rubbing his cock over his jeans now, eyes fluttering shut as he listens to your cries, picturing his face between your thighs.

“You’d hurt when I got done with you, would fuck your pretty cunt so good. Have you… fuck…” Satoru’s having trouble concentrating, releasing his cock, it springs and smacks his stomach, dripping pre cum all over.

“Are you-”

“Keep touching yourself. Fuck I wonder how pretty it is.” He huffs, and you bear his own gasps as he strokes his cock just making you drip more. “I hear how wet you are.”

Your eyes roll back at him. “Want you to. To touch me again, more.” You're gasping as your fingers move in sure circles, listening to Satoru stroke his cock in sync. “Want you… for my… first.”

“Oh my fucking- slip a finger in.” You nervously do as he says. Feeling your finger in your slick hole but wanting him so badly, it’s just a tease for what you want. “That’s it, god I can hear it through the phone.

“Satoru… jus’ come back.” You’re pressing a finger inside your little drippy cunt, panting breaths, breasts rising and falling.

“Yeah, you want me to come back? What do you want?”

“W-want your fingers. So long- ah!” Satoru moans as he listens, his mind going insane with images of all the times he’s watched you in your bikini, all the times you’ve bent over in front of him, remembering how wet you were on his fingers.

Fuck.

“Want 'em deep in you, so greedy.” His words just edge you more, and you’re huffing, oversensitive, not hitting what you need. “Aw baby can’t cum?”

“Fuck you, Toru.”

“I know, you want me too hmm? Break your tight little pussy?” You’re on the edge of cumming, while you hear him moaning, picturing what his cock must look like, it drives you insane, your pussy so slippery your hands nearly fall off.

“Yes, I do. Do you want it, to be inside?”

“Fuck…” Satoru’s tip is sensitive as he spits on it, mixing with the drooling precum, pinching his tip as he tortures himself with thoughts of you. “Wanna bury myself in you.”

“Ah!” You’re screaming out, covering your hand as the phone falls next to you, Satoru hears as you shatter, cumming so hard your pussy throbs, entire body sensitive, so sensitive just your sheets against your skin have you shivering. Your hand is covered in your own slick as it trembles. “S-Satoru, can you cum for me too?”

“Oh my god.” Satoru’s cock starts twitching as he cums so hard he can’t remember, white hot sticky ropes dripping all over his hand, as his head slams his head against the driver’s seat, jerking as he’s so sensitive.

“Satoru, I-”

“This can’t happen.” He says tersely, you blink back tears, so damn weak from cumming to his voice, to hearing him say the words you’ve literally dreamed about, that he wants you.

“You want me.”

“Yes, god how don’t you know!?” Satoru embarrassingly cleans himself up with napkins, cursing. “Got me acting like a dumb fucking teenager.”

“Satoru please just come back over.”

“No, because at this rate I’ll knock you up when I get in you, and your brother will literally hate me forever.”

“You don’t know that! And okay then we be sneaky.”

“You’re still a little brat. No.”

“And you’re a dick!” You get into pajamas now, staring at the mirror in your dark room, lit only by the little fairy lights hanging over your bed.

Satoru scoffs, swiping at that silky white hair as he walks into his home, cock twitching at the thought of you. “I won’t do it, this is terrible enough.”

“If you wanted to, why were you so mean to me!?”

“So you’d stop having a goddamn crush on me. It clearly failed.”

“Yeah, no shit. Fine, then I’ll go on another date.”

“What!?”

“No hope for us, and well Satoru now I’m so wet.”

Satoru glares at the phone, you don’t see it but you can sense it, as he remembers how mad he was seeing you. “You do what you want, we can’t be together so it doesn’t matter.” He curses himself as he says it, leaning over the counter.

“Fine then. You’re immature.”

“Me!? You’re a little annoying thing I swear. You have to forget what I did, what we just did… I can’t.”

“Forgotten then.” You say, choking on a cry. “You’re so scared of what, Suguru would love you even if we were together.”

“You just don’t do that. And I don’t date.”

“You fuck?”

“Yep.”

“Then fuck me.”

“Oh my… go to bed, brat.” You sniffle, shaking your head, hating how weak you constantly are for him, you hang up, slumping back on your bed and screaming into your pillow.

How can you get over him now!?

Meanwhile, Satoru slams into the counters, grabbing a drink and pouring it, throwing it straight down his throat.

How can he get over you now?

“Satoru! Are you ready for this?” Suguru asks, and your heart damn near beats out of your chest when you see Satoru Gojo shirtless. You've seen it here and there, it was not something one got used to.

His rippling, lean muscles make your mouth dry, you struggle not to look, arms covering yourself a bit in your bikini, while he stares at you in shock, eyes drifting down you in a moment’s glance while Suguru is snatching up bags and slinging them over his shoulder.

Your breasts are on full display in the bikini top, and Satoru can’t get his mind off it, that night last week, he’s avoided Suguru all damn week because of it. How he’s jerked it to the memory of your moans, and now he has to see you like this in this bikini that barely covers your tits, pretty and pink, popping against your milky skin. It takes so much not to tear it off and suck on your nipples.

He sees them perk up through the thin material, tempting him more, how can they not perk up when you want him so bad? You can barely formulate a thought in your head, when his muscles flex just so, and your eyes trail to his trunks, where you see the outline of his cock.

Great, you’re wet.

You quickly clear your throat when your brother smiles, bringing you the little white cover up. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmm, let’s go, Shoko, Nanami and Utahime will all be here.”

“You gonna talk Shoko up finally?” Satoru teases, a heartbreakingly pretty grin on his stupidly pretty face.

Ugh.

“You gonna get Utahime not to hate you?”

“Ha, no fucking way.”

“She’s hot though.”

Satoru looks back at you, something swirling in his blue eyes. “I guess so.”

“You guess so? Didn’t you think so like a week ago?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He only can think of you, little brat driving him insane, have you seen that guy again!?

“She’s pretty.” You agree, smiling brightly, putting on a show. “My friend Maki is coming too, and Yuuta will be here.”

Satoru’s fists clench, raising a white thin brow. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm. A full pool party.” The doorbell rings now, and everyone starts piling around the house, you grab the appetizers and drinks with Suguru’s help, greeting everyone as you all head to the pool.

Watching Satoru Gojo grill out was doing things, things that made you unable to focus, even as Maki comes, and gives you a big hug, so pretty with her emerald hair and glasses, her body lean and muscled. “Maki you look hot!”

“You look hot, baby. Oh, is that your boyfriend?”

“Not a boyfriend. But we went out. You’ll like him.”

“Give up on Gojo?” She asks, peering over, she knows you’ve been in love since you were a teenager. You sigh, nodding. “Suuree.”

“Oh stop. Yuuta!” You give him a hug, he smiles and hugs you back, lean and cut in his swim trunks, and when he sees Maki his mouth drops, though he quickly clears his throat.

Maki blushes, and you look between them, smiling then.

“Yuuta, come meet Maki, my best friend. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“What!?” Maki hisses at you, but you see it the moment they meet.

“You’re both beautiful.” Yuuta takes Maki’s hand and she is bright red, you lean over to Yuuta’s ear.

“Think she likes you.”

“What!?” You just giggle.

“I’m hopping in!” You wave at everyone else before you jump in, and Satoru watches the way your ass bounces when you do, to the point he has to turn and adjust himself, semi hard from that.

You hop up in the pool, covered in dripping wet water, hair slicked back and sticking to you just so, tempting him to no goddamn end. It’s like you know it too, smirking at him with a bratty raise of your eyebrows. He holds the spatula and thinks of beating your ass with it, when Suguru walks up.

“So I thought I liked the kid, but look.” Suguru nudges his head, shaking Satoru out of his reverie, as Yuuta is clearly flirting with Maki, then he looks back at you, smiling at them.

“I think… She's matchmaking.” Satoru says, and Suguru sighs.

“I guess, but I was hoping for her to get a good guy, not some dick you know. He seems like a good kid.”

“Yeah, she deserves the best.” Satoru’s voice gets hoarse, and Suguru puts his hair up in a ponytail, tilting his head curiously at Satoru.

“She does. Not some shithead like me and you were at her age.” He jokes, smacking his shoulder, Satoru feels the words like a punch to the gut.

“I mean we’re not much older.”

“What now?” Suguru’s called over, and Satoru is barely able to breathe, Nanami walks up and takes over cooking with a tired smile, leaving Satoru to watch you, swimming across the pool in smooth strokes.

All he can picture is carrying you up to your little room and hearing those moans in person, making you moan. If he hadn’t touched you, if he’d just held himself back, maybe he could keep this in, but now you’re pulling him in, he’s a stupid moth smacking a fucking lightbulb.

Satoru grabs two drinks, cracking them open, sitting on the edge of the pool now and handing you one. You smile so damn pretty he’s dying. “Ah thanks, Toru, I’m old enough now?”

“I guess so. Fuck I was wasted in a frat house at your age.”

“I bet you were a slut.” Satoru glares, earning your grin, damn he’s sexy when those blue eyes narrow.

“You don’t know shit. Your brother was the slut.”

“What? No!”

“Sure was.” Satoru slides in the pool, you two are the only ones in there, and he’s dangerously close, the cold water chilling you as he warms you up, his gaze takes in the goosebumps on your breasts and how the water is just pressing them up more. “I’m no virgin but I’m not what you think.”

You sip the beer now, nodding a bit. “I was teasing, really.”

“You tease a lot, run your mouth all the time.” You scowl, and he smirks. “Wonder if I could put it to better use.”

Fuck.

Your body hums, stepping closer, your legs brushing against Satoru’s, strong and so damn long, and you watch him tense, but you act so casual, just sipping your drink, eyes locking with his. “Something wrong?”

“I swear to god you’re annoying.” You feel his hand on your back, taking it over with his long fingers, slipping lower where no one can see, grabbing an ass cheek and exhaling. “Annoying with a nice ass. And perfect tits.”

You’re flustered now, for all your talk, his hand is gone as quick as it was there. “Did you just compliment me?”

“It’s no compliment, it pisses me off.” He sips his drink with a scowl, then he jolts as you teasingly brush the back of your hand on his cock under the water, his free hand snatches your wrist.

“What, you did it to me?”

“You’re a slutty little brat you know that?”

“Hmm, am I?”

“Lucky your brother’s here, I’d drag you out of this pool and beat your ass.” You’re further turned on, he sees it, in your dilated eyes and parted lips, how your breasts rise and fall quicker. “I swear you’ll kill me before he gets to.”

Soon everyone else starts to get in the pool, and Satoru goes as far from you as he can, avoiding even looking at you, lest he has a stupidly hard cock in a pool with all of his best friends. The women there are beautiful too, but his eyes are only on you, his mind is overtaken in the most annoying way, you had the audacity to touch him now too!?

He wants to beat that bouncy little ass.

You end up a little overheated from the sun, deciding to head inside and chug some water, only to shut the fridge and there he is, snatching you by your arm before you can blink, dragging you into the pantry. You blink in surprise, also to adjust your vision, before gasping as Satoru turns you around, pressing you against the wall, smacking your ass.

“Ow!” You hiss, it stings so bad, but you’re clenching around nothing when he smacks your other ass cheek. “You dick!”

“That’s for touching me, brat.” He turns you back around now, bending low, cupping the side of your face, and your breath catches in your throat, hammering when you taste his sweet breath on your lips, lingering so close. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” You whisper, hand sliding up his bare, slick chest, his eyes slam shut, forehead resting on yours.

“Stop looking at me that way.”

“I’ve just hid it. You think I haven’t always wanted you?”

“You can’t. So stop.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “We won’t do it.”

“What, kiss?” You pull on him, but he refuses to budge. “You don’t kiss?”

“I can’t kiss you, it won’t end there. I’m not that boy. I’d have my fingers in you at dinner.” You gasp as he slides your bikini bottoms to the side, sinking a finger in, you have to cover your mouth not to scream, he has to bite back a moan. “I’d have been licking you right in the car, have you on the hood of my fucking car, making you cum all over my face.”

“Satoru, please.” You yank on him again, and he’s shaking his head, sighing over your lips, knowing you’ll end him when he does, your cunt squishing so loud in the little pantry, as you soak him, and he slides a second into your eager hole. “Please.”

“Stop making me want you so fucking bad. Now.” He presses on that little spot in your gummy walls. You can't even see then, gripping him, dizzy as he studies you.

“I was swimming-”

“Stop looking so good.”

“Don’t stop!” You beg, when he’s slipped his fingers out, sucking on them and exhaling, pressing you against the wall further, a thigh between yours now, pressing up and making you gasp.

“I can’t do it to him.”

“Satoru who’s to say he won’t approve? You’re his best friend.”

“Ha, and not good enough.” You frown now, hands sliding up, wrapping around his neck, entangling in drippy silvery hair.

“You’re good enough for anyone.” He melts at your words.

“Not for his little sister, you don’t get how much he cares, he feels like a damn parent to you.”

“He’s not though. Satoru just… kiss me.”

“No I’ll be fucking you and crash the shelves.” You sigh frustratedly when he pulls back, shaking his head when you grip his arms.

“Then let me please you-”

“Jesus christ you’re a whole monster meant to fuck me up.” You snort at that, at his eyes bugging out. “You’re a virgin, you’ll be with someone special.”

“You’re special.”

“Fuck me.” He storms out, once again edging the fuck out of you, you go to chase him when Suguru and his friends are all walking in, and Satoru puts on the role of unbothered so damn well, all while he’s fucking you up.

You storm to your bathroom after making an excuse you don’t feel good, letting the hot spray of the shower hit, trying to focus on anything other than him, and his face when he thinks he’s not good enough. How can he ever think that!? You lean back against the wall, the water beating your skin, scalding hot on full blast, trying to blank your stupid mind out.

“No, I'm not mad at all!”

“But you went on a date-”

“Maki, I… I can’t get over Gojo.” You say softly, leaning against the door of your room. “I just can’t let the love go.”

“Baby, maybe just tell him?”

“I think he knows, but he’s too scared of Suguru to do shit, I am not sure he feels the same anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know, but how do I say- oh yes, I love you Satoru Gojo, I have a box of your pictures and love notes- aha it’s chill though!” Maki snorts in laughter over the phone.

“You need clarity or you’ll never move on. Are you really okay with me and Yuuta hanging out though? It’s like the only date I’ve seen you on.” You hear the concern in her voice.

“No, it’s fine, he’s so sweet Maki. I think he’d be good for you.”

“Oh don’t get so serious, just a movie. But okay, I believe in you!”

“You shouldn’t.” She laughs and you say your goodbyes, it’s been another week since Satoru had fucked you up again. You’re annoyed by his back and forth, you’re annoyed you can’t think of anything but kissing him.

You open the door then, to go get water, and he’s right there, making you gasp, jumping when blue eyes lock on yours. Suguru is out on a date tonight and you didn't expect him to be here, pouty lips set in a thin line when he looks down at you. You stare at each other for a heart stoppingly long time, just breathing, until his arm drops from the door frame, and he steps inside your room.

“God how much did you hear?” You whisper, Satoru shuts your door behind him then, the resounding click echoing.

“I heard all of it.” He says quietly, brushing a hand down your hair, making you tremble.

“That's not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Were you ever going to tell me? That it's not some little crush?” He asks, eyes darting across your face, his own chest heaving.

You look down, trying to find any words. “I didn't want to scare you away even more.”

“Is it true?” Satoru cups your face now, and you nod, tears in your eyes.

“Satoru Gojo, I have loved you since you first met Suguru. I know I was a kid, I get it, but it never went away. It's more intense, my feelings, aching to be with you every moment of every day.” Satoru stands there, listening, and you step closer, a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I thought if I went on a date I could try to get over this, but you occupy all my dreams, all my thoughts.”

Satoru exhales, shocking you when he picks you up in his arms, holding you like you're nothing, your legs wrap slender hips, your arms around his neck. Satoru’s huge hands are on your bare thighs, as his hard body presses against you. You're so close to his lips, lips you've ached to kiss since you first knew what kissing even was.

“I'm in love with you, Satoru.” He exhales, his eyes swirling with emotions. “I can't stop how I feel, I have tried. I'm so in love with you, I just wish you could see me as more, I'm not a kid okay? I'm not just Suguru’s sister. I'm-”

“You're beautiful.” He cuts you off, his words melting you completely, his voice hoarse as he whispers. “I know you're you, I see who you are. I see more than you know.”

“That's all I ever wanted, for you to see me.” Satory carries you to your bed, laying you on it now, hovering over you, lips tantalizing when you run a thumb across them. “I do love you, fuck I think I always will, it just won't go away. It's okay if you don't feel the same, but you deserve to know.”

Satoru leans down, and he kisses you, the sparks from his lips like electric tingles everywhere, your every nerve ending is on fire as he does. You moan into his mouth, hands sinking in silky white hair, and he deepens the kiss, moaning himself, sinking low onto you, hard body pressed on yours. You're arching up against the thigh he has, braced on for support, gasping as it brushes up, firm and strong, bumping where you're so needy.

“You're so hot for me.” He murmurs, pulling back, before diving back in, tongue swirling with yours, and it's so breathtaking, the intensity in which your tongues meet. When he's biting your lips, sinking lower, on his elbows now, your tongues dripping saliva, so messy. Satoru takes over everything, long limbs too long for your small bed, you drown in him.

“Please.” You whisper, and he exhales, kissing down your throat, your chest, big hands gripping your breasts, you cry out at it.

“Are you sure about this? It's important, sweetheart.” He whispers, slipping down your shirt and moaning audibly. “Perfect.”

“I've never been more sure about anything.” Your words strike a cord with him, when he's sucking a nipple into his hot mouth, you cry out, pussy wetter and hotter against your shorts, he feels you on his thigh, dying to shove his cock so deep, you grind on his thigh as he sucks on your other pretty titty.

“So desperate, gonna cum from that?” He raises a sarcastic ass brow, and you remember, Satoru is a cocky asshole.

One that you love.

You roll your hips again, he gasps at it, leaning up on his knees, you whine. “No, get back!”

He smirks now, peeling down your shorts, revealing your bare cunt to him, glistening with your arousal. He moans as he looks at you, parting your lips and looking at your pretty cunt. “So wet already…”

Your thighs shake as he stares at you so intimately, then he's kissing down your waist, between your breasts, your tummy. You're whimpering and soaking wet by the time he's kissing up your inner thigh, breath teasing your entrance. “Satoru… you don't have to um… if you don't…”

“I love to eat pussy, especially when they're this fucking pretty.” You're dripping wetness out of your little hole, when his lips press, you jump now. “So pretty it'll ruin me forever.”

“Satoru!” You scream out when he slips his tongue up your slit now, nothing you've felt or done can prepare you for it, for him flicking his tongue on your engorged clit, you see him staring at you under lidded eyes, big hands pressing into the plush of your thighs. “Oh my god.”

“You taste s’fucking good.” He whispers, flicking his long tongue up against your clit again, you’re screaming out from just that, earning his little laugh. “So easy, I’ve barely started, baby.”

Baby.

Satoru called you baby.

Satoru called you baby as he’s grinning against your pussy, tongue slipping between your folds again, licking up your slit, your cunt is gushing down his pretty face, coating his tongue in your arousal. He takes a hand off your thigh, using it to separate your lips, slipping his tongue inside your tight little entrance, you’re falling apart under him.

Your entire body reacts to the sensation, your hands unwillingly pulling at his hair, hips arching up for more of him, and then Satoru leans up a bit, spitting on your clit, grinning as he watches it slip down your pretty pussy. “S-Satoru…”

“So pretty, look at her.” He muses, swirling the saliva around with your own slick, shoving two fingers in your cunt, stretching you so good you gasp out, then he’s using his tongue on you with them, pumping them in and out of your slick walls, pressing on a spot that makes you drool, closer and closer when he sucks your clit in his mouth, humming on you.

“Oh my- f-fuck I… Satoru!” You’re crying his name as your orgasm wracks over you, arousal drooling out of your cunt all down his mouth, his chin, he groans as he laps it all up.

“Messy little brat.” He huffs, grinning again against you, before nipping at your clit, the sensation of sharp pain only egging your orgasm on further. “Mmm.”

Satoru now holds your hood up, thumb and finger pinching your clit as he fucks you with two fingers, hearing the sloppy mess he was making your pussy, looking up to see your pretty face flushed and fucked out already. Your pretty breasts are heaving up and down, the peaks taut and begging for his mouth again. He presses up on your spot again, watching you fall apart.

“That’s it, you’re so easy f’me.” He teases, but you don’t talk shit, you don’t talk back like usual, no you’re just whimpering, your thighs tightening on his head on either side.

“Ngh!” Is all you manage, walls pulsing around his two fingers now, fingers deeper than anything you’ve felt, you’re so slippery and messy his fingers slip, he’s drinking you up, you hear him sipping you, devouring you, you’re losing it as his hand presses on your tummy, curling his fingers just so, sucking your clit again, bringing you to another climax. “Toru!”

“Mmm.” He finally lets you go, leaving you a twitching mess and smirking, charming fucking asshole over you, having so casually wrecked you, you’re so flustered when you see he’s glistening with you. You wipe at his chin. “You feel better, brat?”

“I want more.” You whisper, hand slipping down his abdomen, his breath catches at it, brushing your hair back, kissing you. You taste yourself on his lips, hands trembling as you unbutton his shirt, revealing his strong chest. “Please.”

“We can stop here for now.” You see it then, the concern on his face, you shake your head.

“I want you inside me. I wanna feel you. Satoru I love-”

“I love you.” He cups your face, eyes darting back and forth, your heart pounds so loudly you hear it in your ears, body thrumming and reeling from the orgasms, from his words.

“What!?”

He laughs now, shaking his head and kissing you. “I love you too, annoying little brat. I don’t have a box of love notes and pictures though, simp.”

“Oh fuck off!” You giggle then, sniffling as emotions hit, and he grins, so beautiful your heart breaks.

“You’re a regular yandere.” You laugh once more, kissing him over and over, slipping his dress shirt down his shoulders.

“I am no yandere, I just am in love with you, Satoru. How could I not be? How could anyone not love you?” His own lips tremble, but he catches himself, glaring.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Make me sappy. Are you sure, I could eat you out every day all day, we can wait for more.” He kisses down to your breasts again, touching you so deeply, worshipping you with his hands, his lips, his tongue.

“I’ve been ready.”

“Masturbating to me?” He teases.

“Yes.” Satoru groans now, kissing you again, pressing between your thighs now, you feel his bulge against you, frustratingly inside of his jeans, you rub on him eagerly, earning his huff of frustration.

“Do you have to be so sexy?” He murmurs, pink lips glossy from your kisses, you nip at one, earning a breathy whine from him.

“Yes I thought of you, it’s hard to think of or see anyone else when there is a Satoru Gojo at your house all the time.” You unbuckle his belt, gasping when he springs free from his boxers, huge, long and thick, two veins wrapping around his cock from the base to the pink tip, all leaking precum. “You’re so big…”

“Did you ever do it while I was here, hmm?” He asks, standing up now, slipping off his jeans and boxers, and his cock slaps his belly button before it settles back, hard and throbbing. You feel your tummy clench again, he’s so perfect, but also…

“Will it fit?” He snorts, as he eases you to sit up, brushing your hair back as you stroke it, little hand nowhere close to covering any of it.

“We’ll have fun making it try to. Open your mouth pretty.” You eagerly obey, and Satoru Gojo’s cock enters your mouth, you taste his salty precum on your tongue, swirling the tip as he leans his head back for a moment, moaning.

“That’s it, fuck… mouth feels s’good.” You whine out now, thighs pressing together as you lap at him, sucking as much as you can into your mouth, but there was no possibility of deep throating as you’ve seen, at least not yet, Satoru Gojo is way, way too big. He’s pulling at your hair, thrusting into your mouth, groaning as you take more and more of him. “Did you?”

“Hmm?” You look up at him with dazed out eyes, drool dripping down your full lips, he smirks then, cock aching to slide inside you.

“Did it while I was here?” You feel your cheeks heat up now, looking down shyly, nodding. “You did!?”

“Oh shut up! Yes, do you really wanna talk right now?” He glares again, pulling at your hair, it feels so good, the pricking of pain on your scalp you moan.

“Tell me a time.” He murmurs, tilting your chin up, as you stroke his cock, aching for more and more of him as your eyes drift down his perfect, chiseled body.

“You’re such a perv.”

“Me? You were playing with your pretty pussy in the room next to me.” His words fuck your brain up more, while he presses you back down on your bed, kneeling between your thighs, you gasp when his length presses against your inner thigh, hot and heavy.

“There were lots of times.” You whisper, and he moans, slipping his tip against you, drooling tip pressing on your clit, you cry out, shaking. “First night was my high school graduation, after my eighteenth birthday, remember the party we threw?”

“Fuck you looked pretty in that little dress.” You melt further, eyes catching him as his tip presses just so in your entrance, you feel it, the burning stretch, almost cumming from his tip alone. Satoru cups your face with one hand as he leans on an elbow, lips hovering over yours.

“Y-you noticed?” You whisper, he smiles then.

“That was the first time I noticed you grew up, your little graduation cap and that pretty blue dress. Fuck… could cum from this.” He kisses you again, desperately, just staying there, not going further, fucking you with his tip, a ridiculous tease.

“Mmm, that night I imagined you in here, my graduation gift, all tied up in a big ribbon. Even better than the car Sugu got me. Ah!” Satoru presses deeper, eyes lidded as he feels your tight walls gripping him.

“In ribbon!?” He demands, you just giggle a bit, before whining out, he’s pressing deeper, your cunt stretching to accommodate. “For you to have your way with me.”

“Absolutely. Ah! Please…”

“It’ll hurt for a sec, okay?” You nod, and he kisses you so sweetly then, a hand sliding down the curves of your body to your thigh, then he shoves past the little barrier, nestling himself in your snug entrance, you scream out at it, tears pricking your eyes at the pain, he pauses, cursing. “Fuck, you okay? Breathe.”

“S’big… so full…” You feel too full, never anything like it, Satoru’s about halfway in and already you don’t know if you can take him. He kisses you, slipping his hand between you both, thumb pressing against your swollen clit. “T-Toru!”

“That’s it, relax, breathe. You’re too tight, please.” He lets out a strangled sound, as you grip him so good he could bust right there, fucking embarrassing. He looks at your pretty face, hating the tears in your eyes, he wants it to be so good for you, he eases out then sinks back in, easier as he plays, and you let out a moan. “Good girl, listening for once.”

You sniffle and smile tremulously, before your eyes roll back in your skull, mouth in an O, and Satoru’s sinking deeper in your cunt, gushing around his cock, feeling him fill you so good as his fingers work your clit. Soon it starts to feel so fucking good, you’re gasping, arching your hips up, earning his snowy lashes fluttering shut before he slams his lips on yours.

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby, she’s tryna milk me already.” He huffs, starting to pump into you, continuing the circles, your velvety walls suck him in greedily as he fucks you deeper, sinking almost balls deep, tip smashing your cervix. “Oh my god, I feel it, cum on me please.”

His little whimper and his plea end you, you cum so hard you’re seeing stars, your pussy spasming around his cock, your orgasm so intense it’s like your whole body is seizing. You’re twitching embarrassingly as his thumb stops its circles, and Satoru is panting, his breath hot against your cheek as he kisses your neck, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you, not moving now.

“You’re perfect, doing such a good job.” He whispers, his voice strained and full of emotion, his kisses sloppier as feels you ride out the aftershocks.

“M’just laying here, you’re doing the work.” You mumble, he laughs then softly, grinning at you.

“Next time, on your knees. Ah- f-fuck…” He’s groaning as he bottoms out, balls smacking on your ass, you hear the sounds of it as he’s flushing on top of you, eyes getting darker and darker. “Then, on top the third time.”

“Y-yeah?” You whisper, and he moans, nodding before kissing you again, fingers dipping into the jut of your hips, he pulls back on his knees, hand on your white headboard, rolling his hips and making every abdominal tense, as you look down, seeing him in your tummy, bulging. “Is that… your…”

“Ha, look at it. Fucking you so deep, feel me there?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and you feel him, his movements slower, sweat dripping down his porcelain skin, dripping onto your lips as he works you.

“I feel you everywhere.” Your words ignite something in him, the nostrils of that thin perfect nose flare.

"I can't hold back baby, can you take it harder?" His voice is strangled, you nod eagerly.

"Y-yes, I can." You gasp out, still panting, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. "I want it, I need it, all of you."

"Fuck…" Satoru groans, his eyes darkening even more, pupils huge as he pulls back a bit before slamming back into you, making you scream out again at the sensation, it hurts so fucking good. “Hang on t’me baby.”

Your hands grip his shoulders, pressing in, then he leans down, and his hips begin to piston, his cock makes you feel like you’re going to split in half, but it’s so good you crave more, weakly whining out. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to keep him as deep as possible, your nails digging into his back, leaving crescent marks, earning his hiss of pain.

“Brat.” He huffs, you just whimper, hearing the sounds of his pelvis slamming you, and you feel another orgasm building, your pussy clenching around his shaft, your walls fluttering. Satoru’s eyes widen, feeling your muscles tightening around him. "You gonna cum again? You’re so easy."

"F-fuck off… just… y-yes, fuck yes!" You scream, your body shaking as he picks up the pace, his cock hitting that spot, tip dragging on it over and over, you’re a drippy mess down his cock, your thighs, dripping down your ass to the bed as he works you, pounding your pussy. You cum again, harder than the first time, crying it’s so good, burying your face into his neck, shaking from it.

“Oh my god…” Satoru feels his own climax approaching, his movements becoming erratic and desperate. "I'm gonna fill you up, baby, so full of me. Fill your pretty pussy, yeah?"

“Please, please.” You beg, sniffling, tears so pretty from the pleasure, from the overwhelming feelings you have as he pounds you.

“Can you take it?” He asks, shoving your thighs up high, until you’re bent in half, so small under him, the bed is small compared to him, hands pressing into your thighs and squeezing almost painfully as his cock works you, fucking harder and harder, you watch him come apart over you.

“I can, I can.” He moans, leaning over you, cock bottoming out balls deep, you do feel him everywhere, when he slams into you one last time, his cock swelling and releasing hot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you to the brim with him.

“Baby… filling you s’fucking much. Fuck.” You’re cumming just from his heat inside you, from him throbbing inside you so deep, kissing you, you cling to him, thighs shaking around his hips, while he pumps it in and out of you.

“Oh my god...” You whisper weakly, eyes fluttering shut, struggling to keep them open.

“You’re so fucked out. Cute.” He huffs, and you glare, earning his chuckle as he lays on top of you, his weight pressing you into the bed, his heart hammering against your chest. "That was..." He can't even find the words, his breathing ragged while he stares at you, brushing back your hair.

"Amazing." You whisper, stroking his sweat-slicked hair back too.

He lifts himself up, looking into your eyes. "It was more than that. I’ve never felt anything like you.”

You heat up at his praise, and he watches you with a lazy smirk, kissing down your chest, to your breasts, so sensitive, every bit of you is, his cum dripping out of your pussy along with your own. “Can we do it again?”

“What a fiend, give me a minute!” You grin up at him, so beautiful fuck you make his heart ache, his cock already having blood rush through it when he slips out, fluids pouring from your hole as he does. You look down nervously.

“Oh it’s…”

“Shh, lemme clean you up.” You nod nervously, and Satoru runs out to the bathroom, running back and cleaning you up carefully, kissing you between each gentle wipe of your pussy, you feel the soreness set in, but it’s delicious. “Only happens once, okay?”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Your brows draw together, he shakes his head, finishing cleaning you up, kissing your pussy now, and you feel her throbbing again for him. “I don’t think I’ll get enough of this.”

“Neither will I. That's why I tried to avoid this.” He exhales, kissing your hood, darting his tongue out to circle your clit again, you scream out, pulling on his hair, and it urges him on, as he starts tasting his own cum mixing with yours on his tongue.

“Toru! Y-yes!”

“What the fuck!?” You both hear it then, Suguru slamming the door, and you separate quickly, Satoru’s jumping into his jeans, falling backwards as you hastily slide up your shorts, grabbing your twisted tank top and yanking it over your tits as you hear footsteps up the stairs.

“We’re screwed.” Satoru grumbles, kissing your lips deeply, and you cling to him as your brother walks up into the room, furious.

“Satoru Gojo, what the fuck are you doing with my sister!?”

“A kiss before I die.” Satoru asks, tilting up your chin, and you kiss him eagerly as he’s dragged off you by Suguru, but Satoru and you both can’t stop the stupid fucked out grins on your faces even as Suguru loses his shit.

A/N- this was a request fill for you loving your big brother's best friend, so ofc I made it Suguru lol! <3 Hope you enjoyed! Tagging below!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61154809

#gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x female reader #gojo x f!reader

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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Could you do a scenario where megumis daycare teacher is hitting on y/n and toji and meg get really overprotective about it <3 love you parenting series sm

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. themes containing jealousy / protectiveness.

you were stunning. that much was known and evident to toji and others around you. your looks were captivating — however, you always seem demanded to deny that fact. even when you have a husband who reminds you of how good you look on a daily basis.

but with good looks comes male attraction; something toji greatly dislikes since you’re his wife. it isn’t like he’ll be mad at you about it — no, not at all. in fact, toji feels a surge of pride every time someone tells him how lucky he is to be your husband.

the thing is: he gets a little. . . too jealous and overprotective every now and then when the harmless compliments turn into blatant flirting.

“oi, megumi,” toji grumbles as he holds his son in his arms, looking out in the distance. specifically at you talking to megumi’s daycare teacher for a bit way too long to his liking, “ya see that? mommy’s being hit on right in front of us.”

the little boy stops chewing on one of toji’s hair strands, seemingly understanding whatever his dad had said. megumi lets out a small ‘oh!’ noise and stretches his arm out in your direction, pointing at you, “mama.”

you were too busy answering the questions megumi’s teacher asked you to even realise that your husband and son were looking at you from far away. toji’s menacing aura, however, only seemed to intensify the more you talked to that man.

“tsk. . . all right, kid—listen up.” toji narrows his eyes at the scene before putting megumi down on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with the boy. he puts a hand on megumi’s shoulder and whispers a plan in a ‘baby-language’ his son could understand;

the two are being the perfect partners in crime right now (they always have been; since megumi’s birth to be precise).

megumi’s daycare teacher was telling you a fun story about what your son had done to which you politely laughed at. in that same moment you could feel someone tugging at your pants lightly — as if wanting to catch your attention,

“oh — hi, my baby.” your face lights up as you see megumi standing behind you. his big eyes were staring up at you, fingers curled around the fabric of your trousers still — not a clue of what he wanted of you,

you tilt your head to the side in slight confusion and when you wanted to crouch down to be at eye level, the little boy suddenly starts to scream and cry as if he just experienced something traumatic. when in reality, nothing in the current scenery had changed to provoke such a dramatic reaction.

“woah, woah, hey. .” you were startled by the sudden switch in megumi’s mood — his face going from a neutral expression to one of pure despair as he (fake) cried. not only you, but also the daycare teacher seemed to take a step back from the sudden screams echoing in the area.

you immediately pick megumi up and try to calm him down, not pressing him for answers on why he suddenly decided to have an-almost-mental-breakdown-like outburst.

another switch was flipped in the toddler once your attention was diverted from his daycare teacher to him and him only. your eyebrow raised at how easily megumi shut up and went from a state of distraught to one of content in your arms.

that’s when you glance over at your husband who stood near the exit of the daycare, leaning against the wall with his bulky arms crossed, a proud and smug grin on his face — his plan seemed to have succeeded. all credit goes to his son for succeeding in catching you off guard.

“damn, seems like the brat needed his mama’s attention, eh?” toji calls out with an ‘innocent’ shrug, snickering after that, “like father, like son — they say.”

it took you only a few seconds to realise that toji had probably asked megumi to catch your attention by faking to cry near you — knowing you’d drop anything to comfort your child at any time, no matter what you were doing.

“oh, you little . . .” you bite your tongue to refrain from scolding your childish husband out in public. you look down at megumi, seeing him stare back at you with happiness in his blue eyes. you certainly couldn’t be mad at him, “you. you’re lucky you’re cute, ‘gumi.”

you chuckle and kiss your son’s forehead, bidding the teacher farewell quickly (leaving him disappointed by the rushed ending of your conversation), before walking to toji.

megumi squirms in your arms and when you put him down, he instantly runs to his dad, expecting something in return for his performance. toji did seem to have promised him something in exchange for accomplishing his mission—

“papa! papa! candy!”

you raise an eyebrow as toji takes out a piece of candy from his pocket, reserved just for his son. toji was beaming with pride, ruffling megumi’s hair before handing him the delicacy, “here ya go. good job out there, kid.”

you roll your eyes, as that was the only thing you could do after walking right into their trap like that. as per usual.

the cherry on top was that your husband was mocking you like an annoying manchild on the way back home — recalling how worried you reacted when megumi successfully acted like he was crying.

megumi giggled along with his dad, leaving you entirely defenceless. at least you could laugh with them as well.

they got you good.

#ෆ : parenting 101.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fic #jjk fic #toji x you #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n

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foreverdolly · 11 months ago

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good-

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed.

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things.

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics.

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered.

“Do all women take this long to get ready?”

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf.

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring.

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous.

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms.

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited.

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have.

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction.

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away.

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth.

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm.

You waited. And waited. And waited.

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand.

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far.

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket.

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack.

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm.

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce.

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement.

“No.”

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest.

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . . spineless.”

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he.

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him.

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you.

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred.

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice.

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together.

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . .

Aimed at his throat.

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him.

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. . . the natural musk of his skin.

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin.

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it.

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own.

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in.

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you.

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole.

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with.

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain.

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it.

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft.

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair.

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire.

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood.

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now.

“I wanted to.” You conceded.

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused.

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone.

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably.

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land.

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now.

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you.

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you.

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now.

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating.

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped.

“Atreides.”

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized.

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . .

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger.

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier.

He had been trying to warn you.

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the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

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