#skirt? shades of light blue

[evadingreallife]

Me feeling very 1800s adjusting my shorts+long tshirt+skirt-with-in-built-underskirt situation so i could "stay lighter" cause its hot outside

[thestarofcottonland]

you know...i have some chunky wedge platform boots like the egg magazine gyaru girls wore.....but theyre suede and covered in cat hair from when my cat would always climb into my closet to lay down.....i kind of want to clean them up if only to post the outfit idea i had

[queensparklekitten]

some gay people in the forest

[ihopethisendswell]

I am once again thinking about Jolee's eyes.

[v6quewrlds]

REWIND, JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x doctor!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀10.8k.

summary⠀⁎⠀a collection of firsts & special moments.

author's note⠀⁎⠀thee timeline fic! featuring a little backstory about wifey. another installment in my 'joe can't shut up when he's in love' campaign. incorporated things discussed in the wifey tag <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, established relationship, some smut & angst but mostly fluff.

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist / series masterlist.

BACKSTORY, about her.

Honor Roll student, president of every club she set foot in, certified over-achiever. From a young age, she knew exactly what she was put on this earth to do: succeed. She had always been perfectly self-motivated, a tireless perfectionist whose determination landed her a full ride to MIT.

Living in Boston taught her a lot about life.

Double-majoring in Biology & Psychology while designating yourself as a Pre-Med student is not for the weak.

Gummies make her tummy ache.

It's never a good idea to mix liquor with beer.

She needs her pilates fix even if it might bankrupt her.

Those lessons paled compared to the one she learned from the 6-foot-tall Economics major who lived across the hall from her. Junior year made for a lot of ups and downs as she began her studying for the MCAT. Mr. Economics ruined her perception of love and forced her to swear off men. Indefinitely.

For the next few years, that decision proved to work out well for her. Perfectly on track, she attended medical school at UPenn. Though she was unfortunately separated from her best friend and college roommate, Leah, she made it a point to stay on track. No time for serious conversations - much less relationships - with men.

By some miracle, she matched into Case Western's Dermatology program, where Leah also matched for Anesthesiology. To celebrate, she and Leah immediately found an apartment in Cleveland and decided to throw a hybrid graduation/housewarming party. Kyla, deciding she had enough of her best friend's swearing off of men, extended an invitation to her brother's childhood friend: Cincinnati Bengals starting quarterback, Joe Burrow.

Coming off of a season-ending injury his rookie year, Leah sent Joe a charming text urging him to stop by under the guise of good vibes, a promised slice of cake, and a girl she thought he should meet.

"What do you think? Denim skirt with the black tube top or the red mini-dress?" Leah asked, holding up two options as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in their shared bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub, swiping through her phone, distractedly offering an opinion. "Red mini-dress," she murmured, her thoughts already drifting to the party preparations.

The apartment was a modest two-bedroom in an up-and-coming Cleveland neighborhood, a place they'd both be calling home for the next few years as they embarked on their medical residencies. The walls were a soft shade of cream, with hints of pink and blue in the accent pillows and curtains. The living room was a cozy blend of second-hand furniture and IKEA staples provided by Leah's parents, now transformed with strings of fairy lights and a makeshift bar set up on a folding table.

She was already dressed, her own leopard mini-skirt paired with a black corset top that accentuated her curves. She'd spent hours getting ready, her hair in loose curls that fell down her back, her makeup a perfect blend of smoky and natural. The scent of her favorite vanilla perfume lingered in the air as she lifted her gaze from her phone to look at Leah. Her best friend looked stunning in both outfits, but the red mini-dress was definitely the winner. It hugged her figure in all the right places and brought out the life in her brown eyes.

The doorbell rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. "Oh, shit!" Leah squealed. "Help me decide on shoes!" Leah grabbed a pair of strappy black heels and a set of red ones, holding them up to the dress. She nodded towards the black ones, her hands reaching to help Leah zip her dress the rest of the way up. "Aren't those Kayla's?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Leah rolled her eyes. "In the breakup box for a reason. But they're the only ones that don't kill my feet." She stepped into the shoes and twirled around. "Alright, let's do this," she said, leading the way to the front door as they headed to greet their first guests.

The party grew in numbers and volume as the night went on, the laughter and chatter filling the air. She felt the tension of the past few months of exams and residency applications slowly unraveling as she mingled with her friends from Penn, Leah's from Ohio State, and those they both met at MIT. The music played a mix of their favorite tracks, and the smell of pizza and various flavors of wings wafted from the kitchen. Leah's friends from high school had brought a few board games, which had devolved into drunken versions of Cards Against Humanity and Jenga.

Joe Burrow had arrived nearly 30 minutes prior, his towering frame and perfectly coiffed golden brown hair preventing him from fully blending in with the rest of the crowd. The guests had buzzed around him, eager to talk about his recovery, his future in the NFL, and the upcoming reunion with one of his wide receivers from his national title-winning LSU team. She had caught glimpses of him from across the room, it was hard not to as he stood head and shoulders above the vast majority of the partygoers.

She was vaguely aware of Leah's connection to the Bengals starting quarterback. Her younger brother had played with him in high school, Leah and Joe hadn't been particularly close since then. Yet, here he was, looking like a god in a room full of mere mortals—the others in the room certainly treated him like one.

"Babe!" Leah's voice cut through the chatter as she approached, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want you to meet someone." Leah grabbed her hand and practically dragged her across the room. "Joe, this is my roommate and best friend," Leah announced, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she made the introduction. "Babe, this is Joe. He's really good friends with Alex. We grew up together," she added with a dramatic flair.

Joe extended his hand with a polite smile. "Nice to meet you." His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. He had a firm handshake, undoubtedly honed over years of convincing rich old men to take a chance on him. She could feel her face heating up, a meekness that she hoped the dim lighting would hide. She took his hand, giving it a firm shake back. "It's nice to meet you too," she replied, her voice surprisingly steady despite the sudden jitters in her stomach.

Leah practically vibrated with excitement as she played matchmaker, conveniently leaving them to navigate the awkwardness of their first encounter. Her eyes locked onto Joe's, noticing the playful twinkle in his baby blues as he watched Leah depart just as suddenly as she'd arrived. He took a sip of his soda, his bicep flexing against the fabric of his t-shirt, and she found herself momentarily speechless.

"Can I get you a drink? An actual drink?" She offered, trying to shake off the nerves with as brilliant a smile as she could muster.

Joe's eyes lit up at the prospect of a break from the lukewarm soda. "Sure, what do you have?" he asked, long legs trailing behind her as she led him to the makeshift bar. She grabbed a chilled can of vodka soda, popped it open, and handed it to him. He took it with a nod of thanks.

Two High Noons, a shot of tequila, half a spilled drink, and two hours later, she found herself in a corner of her crowded living room, almost chest-to-chest with Joe. The music had gotten louder, the lights dimmer, and the party had evolved into a dance floor with a pulsing bass line. Up close, he was magnetic. Intense blue eyes, an impossibly broad frame, and a smile that could melt the panties off a glacier. In the span of two hours, they had managed to exchange their entire life's stories—his football triumphs, her medical school horrors, and their near identical gym playlists.

"Come on, you can't be serious," Joe said with a laugh, holding his ice water contained in a red Solo cup against his chest.

She leaned against the wall, shaking her head with feigned distaste. "There isn't a single universe where Eminem has the best verse on 'Forever'. It's all Wayne," she insisted, watching his expression over the top of her own cup.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Did we listen to the same song? Because Eminem's verse on that track is untouchable."

She rolled her eyes, her smile growing wider. "I'm not saying Eminem's verse isn't good, but Wayne's verse just hits different," she said, taking a sip of her drink, feeling the cool liquid wash down her throat.

"Eminem's verse was so good, Kanye rewrote his verse after hearing Em's. That's gotta say something," Joe countered, his eyes sparkling with the same passion she had for her argument. She laughed, subconsciously taking a step closer to him, enjoying the debate more than she'd enjoyed any non-academic conversation with a man in a long time. She took a deep breath, the scent of Joe's cologne—something clean and masculine—mingling with the faint lingering aroma of pizza and the heavy scent of alcohol.

Her hand brushed against his bicep as she leaned in to make her next point, feeling the heat of his body even through the fabric of her own clingy top. "But Wayne's was so well written, had the better flow, his personality shines through. You can't just ignore that," she argued, her eyes meeting his.

Joe took a step closer, his voice dropping an octave. "Okay, okay, I'll give you that. It's a close call, but for me, Eminem takes the cake," he conceded, his smirk growing. The room spun slightly around her as she took another sip of her drink, her eyes lingering on his full lips.

"Why aren't you drinking with me?" She asked him, half whining. She swayed to the music slightly, the alcohol loosening her inhibitions, making her more flirtatious than she normally allowed herself to be. His eyes searched hers, the playfulness in her gaze clear.

Joe took a step back, holding his cup of ice water up as a defense. "I gotta drive back to Columbus tonight," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Can't be drunk driving. You know how it is."

"Hmmm," she hummed with a nod. "NFL superstar… right. Image comes first," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "But what if you didn't have to drive?" she asked. She leaned in closer, her breath warm and sweet, hinting at the stolen sips of some vodka lemonade mix she'd gone back to throughout the night.

Joe looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "If I didn't drive…" he began, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. "Where would I crash?"

She felt the heat rising in her face but held his gaze, her voice dropping to a murmur. "Well, I have a perfectly good couch. Or, if you play your cards right, get lucky, you could crash with me." She bit her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into him. "I'm really warm," she continued. "And cuddly."

Joe's laugh was low and deep, sending a thrill down her spine. "Is that right?" His gaze swept over her, lingering on her cleavage before meeting her eyes again. "I don't think I should." He shifted his position, the fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare arms. The coolness of the wall settled against her back as he stepped closer, a muscled arm reaching around her to place his drink on the windowsill beside her. "But maybe I could use a good cuddle," he teased. Instead of retreating to his side, his hand found her waist, his thumb brushing gently against the exposed skin of her midriff.

She felt a shiver of excitement. "Maybe," she echoed, her voice barely audible over the music. She leaned into his touch, her eyes searching his for any sign of hesitation.

The room was spinning, but she wasn't sure if it was from the drinks or Joe's pull. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her cool, but her heart was racing. His lips twitched with a hint of a smile. "Why would you want me to stay in the first place?" He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek.

"Just because," she replied, her voice playful but laced with a hint of desire. She couldn't help the sigh that left her lips at the feeling of his skin on hers, her eyes dropping to his mouth before returning to his eyes.

"That's not a good reason," he hummed lowly, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. The room was a blur of colors and sounds, and she could feel the bass from the music pounding in her chest. His touch was surprisingly gentle despite the strength of his arms. "Which is a shame, because I'd love to stay."

Her breath hitched as Joe leaned in closer, his voice a warm caress against her ear. "I should go," he said, his hand dropping from her waist, his grip loosening. She felt a sudden coolness where his touch had been, and she realized she'd been holding her breath, waiting for his next move.

"Wait," she said, a hint of desperation in her voice as she reached out to stop him. Her hand found his bicep, feeling the firmness of his muscles under the softness of his skin. "Gimme your phone."

Joe raised an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. "My phone? Why?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You know why," she replied, a gentle laugh bubbling up from her chest. She held out her hand, palm up, expecting him to just hand it over.

Joe looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "No, I don't think I do. You wanna tell me?" His voice was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness that made her heart race even faster.

"So I can get a better look at you," she murmured, her eyes tracing the strong line of his jaw. She knew she was being brazen, but the alcohol had loosened her inhibitions and the way he looked at her made her feel invincible. "When I'm sober."

Joe chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. He pulled out his phone and handed it to her with a playful eye roll. "Fine, but only if I get yours too," he said, holding out his hand expectantly.

She grinned, handing over her own phone. "Fair trade," she murmured, watching as he took her device in his hands, making her phone look miniscule in his grasp. His thumbs danced over the screen with dexterity, and she couldn't help but wonder how those same fingers might feel on her skin.

"Okay," he said, handing it back. "Now I have your number. What's the plan?"

She mirrored his actions, their devices safely storing one another's numbers. She felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension as she took in the sight of the new contact in her phone. "No plan," she started, her eyes meeting his once more. "Just… maybe we could go out sometime?" The words slipping out before she could overthink them.

Joe looked at her, his blue eyes piercing through the haze of the party. He took a moment before nodding, his expression unreadable. "Maybe we could," he agreed, his voice low and heavy.

They stood in simmering tension, their eyes locked, for just a moment longer. Then, Joe took a step back, pocketing his phone. "I should get going," he said, his voice a touch rougher than it had been earlier. "But I'll call you?"

She nodded. "You better," she replied, trying to sound cool. "Drive safe. I'm expecting a text when you get to Columbus," her voice shook slightly as she felt herself drawn into a hug, his arms wrapping around her in a gentle embrace. The warmth of his body was intoxicating, and she felt a jolt of electricity run through her as he leaned in and whispered into her ear, "See you soon."

I should've done it.

The text from Joe had lingered in her thoughts all week, a silent drumroll of anticipation in her mind. His admission that he should've done it, should've kissed her, had set her heart racing every time she read it. And now, here she was, in his kitchen, surrounded by the sweet aroma of pumpkin spice and the quiet hum of his oven preheating in the background. The room felt electrified as they baked together, a dance of open stares and stolen smiles, each waiting for the right moment to make their move.

"When it says fold in the cream cheese…" Joe began, his voice trailing off as his eyes darted from his iPad to her side profile. Her hands were busy, scooping the pumpkin mixture into white paper liners. His spatula hovered in the air, a dollop of cream cheese frosting threatening to drop onto the counter as a result of his hesitation.

"I thought you said you've done this before," she teased, briefly looking over to find his eyebrows scrunched together, his tongue darting over those pink lips she'd been dying to feel against hers.

Joe rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I have. It's just… this recipe is worded weird." His biceps flexed as he worked the spatula through the sugary mixture. With the cupcakes safely tucked into the oven, she stepped closer, peering at the screen over his shoulder, their bodies almost touching.

"It looks simple enough," she said, her voice suddenly dropping to a whisper, her eyes darting from the recipe to Joe's.

"You're laughing at me," Joe accused, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. The prettiest splash of pink appeared on his cheeks.

She shook her head, pursing her lips together to hold back her laugh. "I'm not," she lied, attempting to avoid his eyes. "I swear I'm not."

"Well, if you're so confident, you do it." Joe stepped aside, offering her the spatula and the bowl of frosting. She took the challenge, shaking her head as laughter finally spilled from her lips. She dipped the spatula into the bowl, motioning for Joe to sift the powdered sugar as she folded the creamy goodness in on itself. The cool metal of the mixing bowl felt good against her fingertips, a welcoming reprieve from the heat that seemed to pulse through her every time she caught Joe's gaze.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her intently. She felt his eyes on her, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Okay, hold the bag open. I'm gonna scoop the frosting in," she instructed, trying to keep her head clear of the looming kiss she knew was on the horizon. It was almost nausea inducing, the anticipation of finally feeling him close to her, tasting the sweetness of his lips for the first time.

The plastic crinkled in her hands as Joe took the spatula from her, scooping a generous amount of frosting into the bag. She held her breath, feeling the warmth of his body so close, the scent of him—a blend of clean laundry and the faint hint of his cologne—surrounding her. She watched his strong hands manipulate the bag, pushing the frosting into the piping tip with a gentle squeeze.

"I gotta wash my hands," she muttered under her breath, turning towards the opposite counter to hide her anxiousness. She hadn't been this nervous in years, not since her first kiss ever back in high school. The kitchen tap's cool water brought her back to reality, and she took a deep, steadying breath. When she turned back, Joe's back was to her, his tall frame silhouetted against the kitchen window, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the scene.

Confusion melted into amusement as she watched him turn to face her, a spoon dipped into the bowl. He scraped at the leftover frosting, the silver utensil shining in the soft light. "Joe," she said with a laugh, "What are you doing?"

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that signature smirk that she had grown to adore. "Taste test." The spoon dipped into his mouth, and her heart skipped a beat as she watched his eyes close, savoring the flavor. "It's good," he murmured, opening his eyes to find hers locked on him. He dipped the spoon into the frosting again, offering it out to her. "You want to make sure we're not serving subpar dessert, right?"

Her stomach flipped, but she stepped closer, accepting the spoon with a nod. The creaminess of the frosting coated her tongue, the duality of the tang and sweet a delicious symphony in her mouth. She swallowed and nodded. "It's good. But I think I need another taste."

Joe's grin grew wider, his blue eyes sparkling in the light of the setting sun. "I figured you might," he said, scooping up more frosting. This time, when he offered it to her, she leaned in, closing the gap between them. The tip of her nose brushed against his, and she felt his breath warm against her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she waited for him to bring the spoon to her mouth.

But instead, he held it just out of reach. "What are you doing?" she murmured, a hint of laughter in her voice.

He didn't answer, simply hovering the spoon there. She could feel the tension building, a palpable force that made her lean in even further, her chest brushing against his. His eyes searched hers, looking for a sign, a silent question that she was ready to answer. And she was, more than she had ever been. Impatience bubbled up within her. She moved for the bowl, removing it from his grasp before she reached up, placing her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet her.

Their kiss was tentative at first, a gentle brush of their lips that sent a jolt of electricity through her. She felt his hand, now rid of the spoon, come up to cup her face, his thumb stroking the soft skin there as their mouths opened slightly. The sweetness of the frosting mingled with the taste of him, a heavenly combination that she hadn't anticipated.

His other hand found her waist, pulling her closer, making her feel as if she were melting into him. Her hand slid from the nape of his neck into his hair, the soft golden strands mingling between her fingers. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if the weeks of unspoken tension were demanding their due. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, a beat that matched her own. The room around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in a warm, sugary bubble of newfound intimacy.

As they parted, breathless, Joe whispered against her lips, "I've been wanting to do that since the moment we met." Her heart swelled with joy, her pulse racing in her ears. She finally opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "Me too," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her knees felt weak, grateful for his arms still holding her close. She searched Joe's eyes, finding the same wonder reflected in the blue pools that had captured her from the start. They remained like that, frozen in the sweet moment, until the timer on the oven beeped, jolting them back to reality.

"Looks like our cupcakes are ready," Joe murmured, his voice low. He made no attempt to separate from her. The bite of his bottom lip and the flicker of his eyes to her lips saying everything he couldn't put into words.

She felt a shiver run down her spine as she nodded, her hand still tangled in his hair. "We should check on them," she said, her voice unsteady.

Joe leaned in and kissed her again, this time with more confidence, his hand sliding to the small of her back, pressing her even closer. When they finally pulled away, she could see the hunger in his gaze, the desire that mirrored her own. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Cupcakes."

Joe was due to arrive any minute, and she couldn't help but feel a little nervous as she chewed at her bottom lip. Leah looked over from the open bathroom door, her grin widening as she saw her fidgeting. "You're so down bad for him," she teased, swiping a brush through her straight hair. "It's cute."

"I'm not down bad," she shot back, trying to keep her voice light as she straightened up from her laptop. "Just… excited for a chill night, you know?"

Leah stepped out of the bathroom. "Uh-huh, sure. Chill like Netflix and Chill?" She winked at her best friend, who rolled her eyes playfully. Just then, the doorbell rang, the sound echoing through the apartment. "And cue Mr. Ohio," Leah announced sarcastically.

Her heart skipped a beat as she walked over to the door. She took a deep breath, composing herself before swinging it open to reveal Joe, his tall frame filling the doorway. "Hi," she breathed out, trying not to sound too eager.

Joe looked her over with a smile, his eyes crinkling familiarly at the sight of her. He stepped in, his backpack sliding off his shoulder to thump onto the floor. Her eyes trailed over his tight, athletic body, and she felt a rush of heat to her face. He leaned in for a kiss, his lips pressing against hers gently before pulling away. "Where's Leah?"

Leah sauntered out of their bathroom, a wide smile on her face. "I'm about to leave for my family dinner. I'm honored you would ask, Joe," she said with a wink.

"I wasn't asking to be nice," Joe said, his sarcasm thick as he stepped aside for her to lock the door. "Usually I can hear you before I see you."

Leah chuckled before walking over to the couch, picking up her purse. "With ears like those, I'm sure you do, Burrow."

She curled into his side, breathing in his scent as she watched the two of them go back and forth. He was warm, the kind of warmth that seeped into her bones and made her feel safe. The kind she missed in his absence.

"Why don't you tell her to be nice to me?" Joe playfully complained, his hand soothing over her lower back as he pulled her closer.

Both she and Leah feigned identical offense. Even-toned gasps circling him from the two friends. "I like her just the way she is, Joseph," she said with a teasing squint of her eyes. "I'm already nice enough to you. She's here for balance, to keep you humble."

Leah giggled, reaching for her keys. "You got that right," she said, turning to Joe. "But I'll be out of your hair for the weekend. You two can do all the 'balancing' you want." With a knowing wink, she leaned over to press a chaste kiss to her cheek, a challenging glint in her eyes as she whispered, "Don't break him. He's expensive."

She laughed out loud, hugging her best friend tightly before she left. The moment the door clicked shut behind Leah, the air in the room shifted. The playful banter evaporated into a heavy silence filled with unspoken desires. She turned to Joe, her heart racing, and found him watching her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I was gonna order some food," she said, breaking the silence as she leaned up to kiss Joe again. He tasted faintly of mint, his stubble delightfully rough against her cheek.

"Sounds good," Joe murmured against her mouth, his hands slipping under her shirt to feel the warmth of her skin against his palms. "I can put my bags away while you order."

She nodded, pulling away to lead him to her bedroom. "What do you feel like eating?" she asked, her legs crossing as she sat on the bed, focusing on the Uber Eats app. The room was bathed in soft light from the floor lamp, the scent of her favorite candle, vanilla and coconut, filling the space.

Joe set his bag down and began unpacking, his eyes lingering on the way her thighs looked bare and exposed against the plush comforter adorning her bed. "Whatever you want," he said distractedly, his words short with desire.

She took the opportunity to watch him as he pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing the tight muscles of his stomach. The white t-shirt he wore underneath was snug, showing off the curves of his biceps. She couldn't help but let her gaze linger on his broad chest, the fabric stretching over the muscle there. She couldn't tell how long she had been staring for when he turned to her with a knowing smile.

"You good?" Joe asked, his eyes meeting hers, a smirk playing on his lips.

She nodded. "Yeah," she managed to say, her voice a little weaker. "Just… deciding."

His eyes focused on hers as he stepped closer to the bed. "Deciding?" He echoed her, his voice low and gravelly with need. "On food or…?"

She felt the heat of his body as he leaned over her, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck. "Or?" she murmured, her hand reaching out to trace the line of his jaw.

He didn't answer. Instead, his mouth found hers in a kiss that was anything but chaste. His hand found its familiar place, his tongue dancing with hers, tasting like the mint of his gum. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out a sigh, feeling Joe's hands roaming her body, laying her back against the bed. The heat of his touch was like a brand, searing into her skin, leaving her desperate for more.

The solid wall of his chest pressed against hers as Joe's hand slid up the length of her thigh, delicately squeezing the soft skin under his palm. She gasped into his mouth, her hand reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deeper into her mouth, exploring and claiming every inch. His other hand found the hem of her shirt, slowly pushing it upward until it was discarded on the floor.

His head dipped to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she sighed, his touch sending delight down her spine. She felt the brush of his fingertips as he brushed over her bra, and the cool air hit her newly exposed skin. His thumbs traced the edge of the lace before his palms cupped her. She arched her back, pushing herself into his touch, a soft whine escaping her lips.

Joe's eyes were dark with lust as he broke the kiss, looking down at her. Her breath hitched, her thighs parting to accommodate his hips as he settled between her legs. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her collarbone before moving to her chest, his mouth finding one of her nipples. He teased it with his tongue, swirling around the sensitive nub before sucking hard, eliciting a moan from her. She ground down on his thigh, her core pulsing with need.

He chuckled darkly against her skin. "I can feel how bad you want it," he murmured, his hand sliding down her stomach to pull at her shorts. She nodded, unable to form coherent words as his fingers danced over the fabric. Her hands shook as they pulled at the hem of his white shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin.

She sat up, moving to straddle him, and pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of him, all muscle and summer-tanned skin, took her breath away. She ran her hands over the expanse of his chest, her nails scraping gently against his skin, watching as his pupils dilated and his breath hitched. She leaned down, kissing a line from his collarbone, up the column of his throat, to his lips again. The tip of his cock nudged her through his shorts, and she could feel him twitch beneath her.

They kissed with an urgency that had been building for weeks, their breaths mingling as they explored each other's mouths. "What kind of condoms do you prefer?" She asked between kisses. "Durex, Trojan, Skyn?" Her voice faltered as his hands traveled down to cup her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh. "I have a few sizes, just in case." Her back arched into him, a silent admission of his effect on her.

He rolled his hips against hers, his hands sliding down to her thighs, pushing her shorts down her legs. "Magnum?" she murmured against his lips, unable to hide the laugh in her voice.

Joe smirked. "Is that what you think?"

She shrugged, her voice thick with lust. "I like to be prepared."

Joe chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. "You're something else, you know that?" He leaned back on his elbows, his abdomen contracting with the movement.

She reached over the side of the bed, her hand rummaging in the drawer of the nightstand. She pulled out a single condom, the gold wrapper glinting in the soft light. "Take your shorts off," she whispered as she sank down the bed. Her eyes held his gaze, her hands smoothing over his skin as he complied. The bulge in his boxers grew, and she licked her lips in anticipation. He groaned out as she kissed down his stomach, her mouth hovering just above the waistband of his boxers.

With a bite of her bottom lip, she tugged the condom from its wrapper. She took him in hand, stroking him gently before rolling the condom down his shaft. His cock was thick and hard, the latex stretching over his length. He watched her, his eyes dark with passion, as she straddled him again.

"God, c'mere," he growled, his voice thick with need. She complied, moving over him, her breasts brushing against his chest, the friction making them both gasp. He reached up to cup her face, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones as he kissed her hard, his tongue sliding against hers, tasting her. She could feel his length, the head of his cock nudging at her, begging for more.

Joe shifted their position with ease, his hands firm on her hips as he flipped her onto her back. He kissed her with a fierce hunger, his tongue plunging deep, as if he was trying to devour her whole. His fingers found her center, stroking it gently, and she gasped, her legs spreading wider to give him better access. The anticipation was driving her crazy, her body thrumming with need.

With a wicked grin, Joe reached for the lube she had left on the nightstand, flicking the cap open with a practiced ease. He slicked his fingers, watching her reaction as he slid one inside her. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as he moved it in and out, stretching her. She felt the blunt tip of his cock press against her, and she took a deep, shaky breath, ready for the moment she had been fantasizing about for so long.

"I need you," she murmured, her voice a desperate whisper against his lips. He leaned back, pulling at the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He took his time, the intensity of his gaze making her squirm with excitement. With one final tug, they were gone, leaving her bottom half fully exposed to him.

Joe took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, his eyes raking over her body with a hunger that made her feel powerful. He lined himself up with her opening, his cock nudging against her folds. She reached down, her hand guiding him in, feeling the tip of his cock push against her wetness.

He groaned, his eyes closing tight as he sank into her, inch by delicious inch. The pressure was incredible, stretching her in a way that made her toes curl. "Oh, fuck," she whispered, her head falling back against the pillow.

She felt filled to the brim with Joe, his cock pushing into her, filling her up, the sensation overwhelming. She tightened her grip on the bedspread, her eyes locked on his as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He took his time, savoring the moment, his movements slow and deliberate. Her eyes fluttered closed, her hips rising to meet his, urging him deeper.

When he was fully sheathed in her, Joe paused, his muscles tense with restraint. "You okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

She nodded, her eyes still closed, her breathing ragged. "More than okay," she replied, her voice a low purr. "Just… don't stop."

Joe leaned in to kiss her again, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that made her moan. Each stroke was long and deep, filling her completely before pulling almost all the way out, leaving her gasping for more. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their muffled groans and sighs.

"Talk to me, baby, tell me how it feels," Joe murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her neck as he began to pick up the pace. His hand roamed over her thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his waist as he pushed into her harder.

"So good," she managed to gasp out, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. The intensity in his gaze sent waves of pleasure through her. "Joe, oh, Joe…"

He took her words as an encouragement, his pace increasing, his strokes growing more forceful. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she matched his rhythm, her hips rising to meet him, urging him deeper.

Their kisses grew sloppier, more desperate, as their bodies moved in tandem. The slick sound of Joe's skin smacking against hers grew louder, mixing with the quiet whimpers escaping from her throat. She could feel her orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her belly.

"Need your hands, Joey," she breathed out, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. She was so close, so fucking close, and Joe's cock was hitting all the right spots, but she needed more. She needed his touch on her clit, the sweet friction that would send her soaring over the edge.

Joe's eyes widened, his own need reflecting back at her, and he nodded. He reached down, his hand sliding over her stomach to the juncture of her thighs. His middle and ring fingers found her clit, the touch sending an electric current through her body. She arched up, her mouth opening in a silent cry as he began to rub in gentle circles.

"Mmhmm, like that," she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as Joe's skilled fingers worked her clit. The pleasure was building, each stroke pushing her closer to the precipice. Her body was tightening around him, her muscles clenching as she neared the peak. "Fuck, Joe, I'm so close."

Joe's breath was hot and heavy against her neck as he whispered, "Come for me, baby." His thrusts grew more urgent, his strokes inside her deep and sure. The pressure on her clit increased, the circles tighter, and she could feel the orgasm begin to crash over her.

"Oh god," she moaned, her hips bucking up to meet him, her muscles clenching around his cock. The waves of pleasure crashed into her, her body convulsing as she came hard. Joe's grip on her thigh tightened as she shuddered beneath him, pushing him over the edge.

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, his breaths hot and uneven as he pumped into her, her orgasm milking him until he couldn't hold back anymore. With a final groan, Joe's body went rigid, his hips stuttering as he filled the condom with his release.

She felt the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through her body as Joe collapsed onto her, his weight a comforting warmth. They laid there for a moment, panting, their hearts racing in sync. "So good," she murmured against his ear, her hands stroking his back, feeling the dampness of his skin.

He kissed the side of her neck, his breathing gradually evening out. "You're fuckin' amazing," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

I LOVE YOU, january 2022.

Joe dreaded bye weeks. They were supposed to be a time to relax and recover from the grind of the NFL season, but they usually just left him feeling restless and out of place. He thrived on routine, and without practice or games to structure his days, he usually found himself aimlessly bored; itching to get back to the field.

This season’s bye week was different. For once, Joe had something to look forward to other than endless hours of film study and tedious brand meetings. He’d be spending it with her.

The drive from Cincinnati to Cleveland had been surprisingly therapeutic, the rolling hills and the changing colors of fall providing a picturesque backdrop to Joe's thoughts. He couldn't wait to see her, to bask in the warmth of her presence that always seemed to wash away the stress of his football-centered life. When he finally pulled into the apartment complex, he was beyond restless. A week of almost uninterrupted time together was a rare treat, and he had every intention of making the most of it.

It took all of one day for the two of them to slip into a good rhythm. The mornings were filled with the scent of brewing coffee and the hum of her getting ready for work at the hospital. Joe would linger in bed, watching her through half-closed eyes, admiring the way she moved with purpose and grace. He would attempt to convince her to stay home, to no avail, and eventually drag himself out of bed to drive her and Leah to the hospital for their shifts.

The rest of the daylight was his, to conquer the tasks he'd brought from Cincinnati, get a workout or two in at a local private gym, or explore the city on his own.

By the time the sun set, he was driving back to the hospital, eager to pick her up and hear about her day. Dinner plans involved the PDF meal prep instructions she insisted that he send over from his personal chef. Cooking with her was oddly relaxing, despite his usual preference for takeout or having someone else handle the kitchen. She took the lead, allowing him to chop and prep under her direction. The occasional touch of her hand on his, guiding him, or the way she would laugh at his insistence to follow a recipe-to-T filled him with a longing to feel this way more often.

At night, she would attempt to get some studying in while Joe answered his emails, warm, full, and happy. The need for sleep would overtake him before her, and he'd end up sprawled across the bed. His head resting snuggly against her sternum, her free hand softly scratching at his scalp. The sound of his deep, contented breaths soon lulling her to sleep as well.

This morning played out as it typically did. Joe was up early, making himself useful, brewing coffee and assembling her lunch box, while she slipped into her scrubs, packing her bag for the day, and applying touches of makeup here and there. The apartment was bathed in the soft glow of dawn, the air filled with the scent of freshly brewed beans and the distant sound of the city coming alive.

"You know what we need?" She said, zipping up her bag on the couch. "A real coffee table."

Leah hummed out her agreement from the kitchen, where she was busy packing her lunch. "Definitely," she chimed in. Their "coffee table" was a stack of medical school textbooks balancing a metal tray courtesy of the UH Cleveland Medical Center cafeteria. It was functional but not exactly a real piece of furniture.

"I could get you one from Ikea," Joe said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a mission. "I've got the day to myself. Might as well do something useful."

Her eyes widened. "Babe, no. I can't ask you to do that. You're here to relax."

"Are you really refusing free labor?" Leah called out from the kitchen, a laugh in her voice. "When are we gonna have a chance to get one? If we’re not at the hospital, we’re studying or volunteering. Joe’s not doing much except for a couple of workouts and emails today anyway, right, Joe?"

Joe nodded faithfully, an overgrown curl bouncing with the movement. "Yeah, I've got nothing but time. You guys pick a table out and I’ll go get it."

She looked at him, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile she couldn’t quite hold back. "You do know that the nearest Ikea is in Columbus, right?"

Joe shrugged, handing her the packed lunch box with a kiss to her forehead. "It’s only two hours away, babe." Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, he added, "Let me do this for you. I really don’t mind."

Relenting with a sigh, she opened her laptop and navigated to the Ikea website. She clicked through the pages of sleek designs and minimalist furniture as Leah hovered over her shoulder. They settled on a simple table that they both thought would complement their living room.

"Alright," Joe said, clapping his hands together. "I'll drop you guys off and head down to Columbus. Send me the name of the table."

She rattled off the name and specifications of the coffee table they had chosen, and Joe typed them into his phone.

The day passed in a blur of activity and quiet moments. She and Leah accompanied their attendings on rounds and completed their first-year gruntwork. Meanwhile, Joe embarked on his solo trip to Columbus, reporting on his success to her through a series of photos and texts. By the time he arrived back in Cleveland, the sun was setting, painting the sky with oranges and pinks.

Her shift was almost over when she received a text from Joe.

Just got off the highway. Be there soon.

She couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of the surprise waiting for her. She and Leah had spent the day trying not to think about the coffee table, focusing on their patients and notes, but the anticipation had been bubbling beneath the surface all day.

When Joe finally pulled into the apartment complex, the car's headlights bouncing off the pavement, she and Leah exited first. They watched him unload the flat-packed furniture with surprising ease, his muscles flexing under his shirt as he maneuvered the heavy box. Leah nudged her best friend, whispering, "You’re drooling.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn't deny the warmth spreading through her chest. She loved Joe's willingness to go the extra mile, especially when it came to making her little apartment feel more like a home.

They brought the box into the living room and spread the contents onto the floor. Almost immediately, his eyes sharpened in focused intensity as he studied the instructions. She sat down on the floor with him, sipping a cup of tea, watching his concentration.

"Okay, so the first thing we need to do is assemble the legs," Joe said, holding up a bundle of wooden pieces.

She leaned over, her eyes scanning the instructions. "Are you sure? It looks like we should start with the tabletop."

“Babe," Joe said, pointing to a diagram. "It says legs first."

"But that doesn’t make sense," she protested, her finger hovering over a different step. "The legs won’t even stand without the base."

Joe raised an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in his gaze. "Baby, trust me. I've put together Ikea furniture before."

"Your janky ass is gonna mess up my future coffee table if you keep going off-book," she teased, swiping the instructions from his hand.

Joe grinned, not at all deterred. "You love it when I improvise."

Their playful banter grew more intense as they worked, each insisting they knew better. The instructions lay forgotten between them, as they tried to piece the table together through sheer force of will.

"Burrow, please don’t fuck this up," she said, trying to keep a straight face as Joe held a wooden peg between his teeth, his hands occupied by trying to align the legs.

"I know what I’m doing," he shot back, his voice muffled by the mouthful of furniture.

She ignored him, squinting at the instructions she had rescued. "It says, 'insert peg A into slot B, then secure with screw C.'"

"I've got pegs and slots," Joe said, holding up two wooden pieces. "But where's screw C?"

She looked down at the instructions again. "It's right here." She reached for a tiny screw in a sea of plastic bags, her hand lifting to remove the wooden peg from between his teeth with a chuckle. "Here."

Joe took the screw with a grin, forgetting about the headache of the furniture for a moment. The words, "God, I love your bossy ass," slipped from his lips before he could catch them.

Her eyes snapped up to his, surprise and delight swirling in her gaze. Without a moment’s worth of hesitation, she replied, "I love your stubborn ass."

The room grew quiet, the tension palpable. They stared at each other, the weight of their words hanging in the air. The warmth of the moment washed over Joe, a feeling he hadn’t anticipated feeling so deeply. He felt his heart swell with affection, his chest tightening as the reality of what they’d just confessed hit him.

She cupped the side of his face, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip, leaving a gentle caress. "You really do, huh?" He asked, pupils dilating slightly as his eyes searched hers.

"Yeah," she said, voice soft. "I really do."

The air grew thick with unspoken words and unexplored feelings. Joe set the screw down and took her hand, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap, the coffee table pieces forgotten around them. Her arms settled over his shoulders, fingers finding the softness of his hair. He caressed her waist, pulling her into him. The kiss was tender, a gentle acknowledgment of the love that had been simmering between them for months.

"Say it again," he whispered against her lips, his voice soft with wonder.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I love you, Joe Burrow."

Joe's eyes searched hers, the intensity of his gaze making her heart flutter. "And I love you."

"You guys just managed to squeak out a win tonight. I know Joe has emphasized having, quote: 'no room for excuses' all season. But there isn't much time to dwell on the mistakes when you're in the middle of a playoffs run. So, how will you make sure that he stays focused on the next game, instead of dwelling on the imperfections of this one?" The reporter's voice was sharp, cutting through the buzz of the press room as Zac Taylor took a sip of his water.

Zac leaned into the podium, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Well, you know, Joe's a perfectionist. That's what makes him so great at what he does. But I'm not too worried about his focus, he knows better than anyone what's at stake. His girlfriend will be in town the next few days. I'm sure she'll keep him grounded."

The room went silent for a beat, and then the air was ablaze with the clicking of keyboards and murmurs of surprise. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched the livestream on her phone, her hand tightening around it. She was sitting in the back of her Uber, her eyes darting up to the driver who chuckled at the head coach's words. "Grounded? Busy's more like it," the middle-aged man commented. When she asked him if it was alright to listen to the post-game press conferences, he had been more than enthusiastic. Now, she wished she had just waited until she was in the comfort of Joe's home.

Her phone buzzed with notifications, and she knew that the dam had broken. She had seen it before with other athletes and their significant others, the sudden rush of interest that could either elevate or destroy reputations. It was the price of his fame, but she hadn't been prepared for it to be her reality. Not like this. The Uber pulled up to the house, and she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before walking through the door.

Joe's brother, Dan, was the first to reach out to her from his family. "Well, looks like the cat's out of the bag," his text read, followed by a series of laughing emojis and a screen recording of Zac's slip-up. She couldn't help but chuckle despite her nerves. She replied with a simple "Yeah, guess so."

As she stepped out of the car, she saw Joe's text light up her screen. "Zac sends his apologies. You okay?" He was always considerate, even in the midst of his own chaos. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. "Yeah, tell him thanks a lot." Her thumb hovered over the screen for a beat before he read her mind, "We'll talk when I get home. Don't worry about it."

Joe arrived just as his parents came through the front door. Jimmy and Robin were similarly in town for the game, but their presence was less newsworthy than hers. The four of them greeted each other with the kind of relief that comes after a nail-biter of a match. Inside, the living room was a warm cocoon of familiarity, a stark contrast to the impersonal press room where the Bengals' PR team was forced to shut down any attempts at confirming Joe's relationship status, per his request.

"Cat's outta the bag, kid," Jimmy laughed deeply, a comforting side hug enveloping her. "You're a champ, though. You two'll handle it."

"I'm sure Joe already has a million and one solutions for handling this," Robin said with a knowing smile, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But if you need anything, anything at all, just let us know."

She managed a smile, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach. "Thanks, I'll be okay," she replied, her voice sounding more assured than she felt.

After his parents left for their room, Joe turned to her with a concerned expression. "I'm sorry, I know we both wanted to keep this private for as long as we could." His voice was gentle, the blue eyes she had come to love looking into hers for reassurance. Her arms wrapped around his waist, hands gently rubbing his back as she leaned her head against his chest.

"It's okay," she murmured, taking a deep breath in of his scent. "It had to come out eventually."

Joe sighed, stroking over her hair. "I just don't want it to mess with your career. Or your peace of mind." He gathered his thoughts for a moment before speaking up again. "I signed up for this life, not you. It's not fair to throw you into this mess."

She pulled away slightly, looking up at him. "I know what I'm signing up for, Joe. We've talked about this." She paused. "As long as you're okay with it, and we can keep some parts of us just for us, I think I can handle it."

Joe nodded, his gaze searching hers. "You're sure?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm sure."

The moment showed itself weeks later in Kansas City. She was a nervous wreck, the Arrowhead stands were a sea of red and black, the Chiefs' colors, but there was a noticeable splatter of Bengals' orange and black jerseys. Amongst them, she stood out in her Burrow jersey, her hair in loose waves that fell over her shoulders, her makeup intentionally flawless.

Her heart hammered in her chest as the national anthem played, a mix of excitement and dread swirling in her gut. This was it. The hard launch. She'd been preparing for this moment since Joe had asked her to be with him at the game. He'd been adamant that she be part of the victory, should they win.

When the confetti came floating down from the sky, signaling the Bengals' victory, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. The game had been a nail-biter, and she had been on the edge of her seat for the entire four quarters. The families of the players were being ushered down to the field, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

She spotted Joe, surrounded by his teammates, a look of pure elation etched on his face. He saw her and broke away from the celebration, his stride long and purposeful as he approached her. She couldn't help but feel like all eyes were on them, even as the cameras were still swarming the players and coaches.

She stepped aside as he greeted his family first, the love and pride on their faces palpable even amidst the deafening roar of the stadium. Then his eyes focused on her. He wrapped her in a tight embrace, whispering words of gratitude and love into her ear. The warmth of his body and the words spilling from his lips brought a smile to her face. This was their moment, the one she had agreed to share with him, despite the impending storm of media attention.

The cameras clicked and whirred, a cacophony of flashes piercing the air. She felt a tremor of fear as Joe leaned down to kiss her, his lips pressing gently against hers. It was a declaration, a public affirmation of their relationship, and she knew it would be the image plastered across social media in a few short minutes.

"Leah has another year of residency, right?" Joe asked through a mouthful of popcorn as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

She looked up from her laptop, where she was typing away at her Google Calendar. "Yeah, why?" she replied, curiosity lacing her voice.

"Has she started looking for a new roommate yet?" Joe's question was casual, but the way he chewed his popcorn betrayed a hint of nervousness.

She paused, a frown furrowing her brows. "Why would Leah be looking for a new roommate?" She knew him well enough to recognize when he was trying to ease into a conversation he didn't quite know how to start.

Joe swallowed hard. "Well, I just figured, you know, with your residency ending soon, you'd be moving in with me."

She stared at him, the silence in the room thickening like the humidity before a storm. "Moving in with you?" she echoed, her voice a mix of surprise and confusion. "Joe, we've never talked about that."

Joe looked taken aback, his hand pausing mid-air with a piece of popcorn. "You mean, you didn't… I just assumed, with us being in a serious relationship and all…" His voice trailed off as he searched for the right words.

She felt a twinge of annoyance. "Joe, assuming is not the same as asking," she said firmly, closing her laptop. She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know I have connections in Cleveland. It's where I planned on starting my career after my residency."

Joe's eyes widened, his grip on the popcorn bowl tightening. "You never mentioned that," he said, his voice low and defensive.

"Because you never asked," she laughed incredulously, shaking her head. "You can't just assume I'll drop everything and move in with you. I have a life and a career, too."

Joe's face fell, the weight of her words sinking in. "I didn't mean it like that, babe," he said, setting the bowl down and approaching her. "I just thought, with us being together…"

She raised a hand to stop him. "You thought, you assumed. That's not how this works, Joe," she said, her voice steady. "We need to communicate, especially about big decisions like this." She took a deep breath, trying to keep the frustration from bubbling over.

Joe's shoulders rose with tension. "Well, I'm asking now," he said, his voice tight. "Move in with me."

She sighed, her eyes searching his. "Joey, It's not that simple," she replied, her voice softer. "I've worked hard for this. I have plans, honey. I don't want to just uproot everything because you expect me to follow you around."

"Follow me around? Babe, I don't expect that," Joe said, his voice rising slightly. "I just thought we could be together more, especially since you're going to be done with your crazy hours at the hospital. You could focus on studying for your Boards without worrying about rent and all that."

Her eyes narrowed. "I can handle paying rent, Joe," she said, her voice even. "I don't need you to take care of me. That's not what I want out of this."

Joe took a step back, his expression a mix of surprise and hurt. "I never said you couldn't handle it," he retorted. "I just thought it would be easier for you."

She felt the tension in the room thicken, the air charged with unspoken words. "Easier for me, or easier for you?" she asked, her voice measured.

Joe's eyes searched hers, trying to gauge her emotions. "What does that mean? You think I want you to be dependent on me?"

Her voice remained calm. "I don't know. Do you?"

"No? Why would I want you to be dependent on me?" Joe said, throwing his hands up in the air. "I just want us to be together, babe. We've been together for almost three years. I thought we were on the same page."

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their words. "Joe," she sighed, touching his arm. "I love you, but my career is important to me. I can't just leave it all behind because it's more convenient for you."

Joe's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping. "I know," he mumbled. "It's just that… I don't know, I guess I've been thinking about it for a while. When I'm on the road, all I want is for you to be there, waiting for me in our home. It's selfish, I know. But it's hard being apart like this."

Her heart softened at the vulnerability in his voice. She stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his cheek. "Joey," she said gently. "Why didn't you just open with that?"

Joe looked up, his eyes searching hers. "I didn't know how to," he admitted. "It's just, you're all I think about. I just want to come home to you every night."

She felt a pang of guilt. "Joe," she said softly, "I feel the same way, but that doesn't mean we should rush into something this big."

"Then, what do you need from me?" Joe asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. "I need you to understand that this is my career we're talking about. I've spent years working up to this moment," she said, her thumb gently brushing against his chin. "I don't want to lose the part of me that's worked so hard to get here."

Joe nodded slowly. "Okay."

She studied him, looking for any signs of anger or frustration, but all she saw was the raw, honest love that had brought them this far. She took a deep breath, feeling the tension in the room begin to ease. "I don't need you to fix everything," she whispered. "Don't try to pay off my loans or buy me a new car. I want us to build together, on equal terms."

Joe nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Okay," he said again, his voice stronger this time. "I get it. I just… I don't want to lose you."

Her heart swelled with affection. "You won't, baby," she assured him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Do you want to ask me again?" she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Joe took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. "Will you move in with me?" he asked, his voice sincere.

She felt a warmth spread through her chest. She knew Joe was trying, really trying, to understand her perspective. She took a moment before responding. "I would love to."

[teatreeoilll]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .

w/c - 1.4k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, Gojo eats you out while you sit on Geto's lap. That's it. That's the plot.

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . 

Geto loves it when you sit in his lap. He loves it so much that sometimes he can't help himself; he puts a large arm around you first, nuzzling his face into your hair to smell its sweet scent, almost intoxicated. You draw closer to him; it's hard not to when the pads of his fingers begin to draw soothing patterns on your shoulder.

It's just a regular Tuesday night, and some average heist movie is playing idly on the television, and neither you, Geto, or Gojo - who made himself at home in your and Suguru's shared apartment with his feet crossed over on the coffee table - are paying too much mind to it.

You watch Gojo reach a pale, veiny arm into the bag of sweets. He takes out a piece of candy and unwraps it slowly, and you notice how his tongue darts out just a bit before he puts the chocolate candy in his mouth.

"Want one?" Gojo asks as he's about to take another one, and something in his small smirk when he says that makes your muscles tense.

With his hand still around you, Geto notices that - it's not the first time he spots it - he already took note of the light red flush that covers your cheeks when his best friend comes over after a workout with his shirt too tight from being drenched in sweat, or when you look just a moment too long into Gojo's blue eyes when you greet him before your eyes dart to the floor, the corners of your lips twitching up. Not that you ever do or say anything; it's all so innocent and sweet that Geto can't help but savor it, knowing his girlfriend's dirty little secret crush.

"Oh - no, thanks," you smile back at Gojo and lean further into Suguru's side, fixing your eyes on the screen.

Geto's arm around you tightens, and he reaches his other arm under your thighs to lift you up a bit and pull you on his lap. The heat spreads quickly on your cheeks, "S-Suguru," you whisper, fumbling away from his grasp, "not now." Geto knows you're not too much into public displays of affection, but the thought itches his mind, and his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

Geto pulls you on top of him anyway, and Gojo's ever-perceptive pale-blue eyes stray away from the screen to land on your flushed face.

"Don't be shy," Geto whispers as his hand brushes the hair away from the back of your neck. His heavy breathing warms your skin, "We're all friends here, aren't we?" He raises his arm to grab you by the side of the face, turning it for your eyes to land on Gojo as he presses chaste kisses over your neck.

"S-Suguru," you whimper, feeling his stiff cock rubbing on your lower back through his trousers, "not - " but you can hardly breathe when you notice the sly smirk plastered on Gojo's lips and the way his jaw clenches each time you try to wriggle away from Suguru's touch.

"Satoru's a good friend, don't you think?" Geto urges, his hand leaving your face to brush over your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt, "I don't think you ever told him what a good friend he is, did you?"

"I don't think she did, Suguru," Gojo suddenly says, his eyes narrowing when the blush on your cheeks deepens to a crimson shade, "but I guess it's my fault," he sighs dramatically as he runs a hand through his white hair, "I don't think I ever showed her what a good friend I am. How's she supposed to know?"

Suguru chuckles, shaking your body along with him, "I guess she isn't," He runs his hand up your thigh to slide his fingers over your drenched panties, and you shudder, "But she wants you to show her. Don't you, princess?"

All you manage is a stifled mm-hmm before Gojo pushes the coffee table away, and it screeches as it reaches the middle of the living room, making space for him to kneel and settle himself between your thighs.

You gulp when you feel Gojo's hand run up your thighs, grabbing the sides of your underwear to pull them off, and you shiver at the touch of his warm hands running down along your legs together with your panties. He throws them on the floor and looks at you from beneath his long white eyelashes. The air gets trapped in your lungs.

"Come on, princess," Suguru's voice purrs in your ear as he spreads his legs, your own legs on either of his, revealing your wet cunt to Gojo's eager eyes, "Tell Satoru what a good friend he is, or he won't know."

"Y-You're a very good - " and Gojo reaches a long finger to skim along your folds, "Friend - Fuck - " you gasp.

"That's not nice," Geto chastises in your ear, his palms holding your thighs spread, and you place your hands on top of them, digging your fingers into them to steady yourself.

"It's okay, Suguru," Gojo smirks as his face draws closer to your clit, licking a teasing stripe along it, and you feel him smiling against your cunt, "She'll be nice in a minute."

Gojo's tongue begins lapping at your folds, and your thighs jolt, wanting desperately to close on his head only for Geto to hold them tighter in place, "Satoru - Fuck - " you moan, feeling Geto's cock twitch against your lower back.

"Feels good?" Geto murmurs, and you feel Gojo's two long fingers hover at your entrance before pushing in teasingly slow, his tongue still flicking at your clit.

"So sweet," Gojo pulls away from your clit, his mouth drenched in your essence as he works you open with his fingers, licking his lips clean, "If you told me she tastes so sweet, we would've done this a lot sooner."

Geto's chaste kisses on your neck turn to soft nibbles on the soft skin there as he groans every time your body twitches, letting him have a bit of delicious friction on his clothed cock, "Shit," he groans into your neck. He pulls his hand off of one of your thighs, running his fingers along your wet cunt to collect your essence before lifting them up to his mouth, licking them clean, "You are, so sweet."

Gojo's fingers pick up a ruthless pace, the pads of his fingers abusing the gummy spot inside you, "So needy," he smirks when he feels you clench around his fingers, and your vision nearly blurs when his tongue laps at your folds again, your hand darting out to grab strands of white hair to make sure he doesn't pull away again.

"Ah - Fuck - " you moan out as you writhe and squirm at the dizzying feeling of Gojo's fingers nudging your sweet spot, the heat pooling in your stomach as a Geto still holds you in place, "Shit - 'Toru - I - "

The lewd squelching noises coming from your wet cunt fill the room, and your back arches, tension coiling in your stomach as you almost instinctively turn your head to Suguru, who shakes his head. "It's okay princess," Geto's fingers grip your chin to tilt it down at Satoru, "You can look at him."

And you watch Gojo's blue eyes, desperate moans mixed with cusses escaping your lips as he looks up at you. His tongue still works hungrily on your clit, and his fingers push deeper and deeper with each erratic thrust while his free hand rubs his erection through his trousers for some relief.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and your release drenches Satoru's lips and chin as his movements finally slow down. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out your high on the slowing pumps of his fingers. He slides his fingers out, "'Toru - " you whimper when his tongue glides one more time against your sensitive clit.

You feel Geto's unsteady breathing at your neck as he locks eyes with Gojo, giving him a nod. Gojo rises from his knees, his face an inch away from yours, "You have one more in you, princess?" He asks but doesn't wait for an answer before pressing his slick-drenched lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he moans at the feeling of your release rolling off his tongue onto yours, the sweet aftertaste of the candy he ate still present on his tongue.

He pulls out of the kiss, and you turn to Suguru, who eagerly pushes his tongue in your mouth, "I bet you do," Gojo teases, and you feel him between your legs again, pressing soft, wet kisses to your inner thigh.

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ SLOW DANCE

violet; 1,171 words; fluff, jane austen!au, cross-dressing (vi), ballroom dancing, vaguely regency-adjacent vibes, almost angst if you squint very hard, no "y/n", lapslock

summary: i just wanna slow dance, this is the last romance

a/n: a very very belated happy birthday to @aimfor-theheart <3 i hope this tickles ur slow dancing vibes!!! ur so precious to me i hope u had a beautiful week!!!

─── Ⅵ YOU CAN TELL IT'S HER almost immediately, but in the spin of crenolins and the sweep of satin, the brush of silk gloves on velvet lapels, you're thankful that no one else has noticed.

the ball is drawing to a close, with only the most devoted of dancers still taking part, the orchestra striking up a slower tune, something honeyed. her fingers slip around your waist, her other hand finding yours with expert ease.

there's an entire galaxy caught in the hazy blue of her eyes.

"i thought you weren't planning on staying that long," vi says, cocking her head, her pink hair swept up beneath a stuffy wig in alliance with the latest parisian fashions. you glance around at the pairs of twirling dancers all around you, your stomach a twist of excitement and nerves, though you can't help the spark that chases up your spine at the thought of doing this, so out in the open.

"and i thought you weren't even going to come?" you bite back, though a grin crimps at the corner of your mouth.

the pair of you slip apart to circle around another duo of dancers before rejoining in a line. you take the momentary split to admire the clean cut of vi's body in her tailored suit, her figure so handsome no wonder none of the others have noticed there's a lady masquerading as a gentleman in their midst. you allow yourself a secret smile as she slides her hand into yours again, leading you through the steps of the dance as if it were second nature.

you resist the urge to drop your face into the crook of her neck (like you had done that one blessed summer afternoon, the pair of you laid out in the shade of the willow tree, a picnic blanket spread out beneath you, a half-drunk bottle of berry wine tucked in the wicker basket — she'd been in trousers then too, having tugged off the ridiculous skirt of her dress, leaving her oh-so-scandalously clad in an undershirt, a half-undone corset, and men's pantaloons, her feet bare —

"dance with me," you'd said, tugging her hand into yours. she'd laughed, the kind of full-bellied laughter that washes over your skin in great waves of joy, leaving you rocked and reeling, gripping onto her shoulders as she pulls you both up and spins you under her arm, catching you around your waist.

you'd buried your face in the warm crook of her neck, breathed her in, counting silently the steady staccato beats of her heart against yours.

"maybe one of these days i'll sneak into a ball and just… sweep you away," she'd murmured, her voice close enough to your ear to make your shiver.

you let out a string of bitten-back giggles, glancing up at her, eyes catching on the light constellation of freckles dotted across her cheek.

"please do… most of them are so stuffy i almost wonder if uncle's not just making me attend them as punishment.")

instead, you let her spin you to the edge of the dance floor, where you both topple into the back garden, laughter spilling from you both as vi tugs you behind a tall hedge of rosebushes to press her lips to yours, her fingers rucking up the material of your very full skirt. the kiss is mostly giggling until it melts into soft gasps and moans, vi's lips working their diligent way down the cut of your jaw to suck at the delicate skin above your jugular.

"v-vi — not — not too hard —!"

"mm… and here i thought you were a fan of being a little rough —" she grins, pulling back.

"i —" you swallow, tamping down the urge to reach for your fan as vi cocks her head, watching you with half-lidded eyes, her gaze sharp as the scimitar moon above you, "i do — just —" you peak around the hedgerows towards the main ballroom, "i do have to go back in there at some point in time…"

vi's eyebrow hitches as a slow, steady coil gathers at the base of your belly.

"unless you don't."

you narrow your eyes, a faint, hummingbird-flutter collecting at the back of your throat as you stare at her.

"what… what do you mean?"

"unless…" she drags out the word, long, languorous, like honey on a perfect slice of fruit, caught and silvering in the liquid moonlight, "i spirit you away right now in my horse and carriage, and no one need be any the wiser."

the fluttering grows, so much like feathers you almost forget to breathe. and then —

"but — what of my carriage —?"

"i've already spoken to your coachman and… if you don't arrive in the next hour or so… he'll take the carriage and head back on his own."

you purse your lips, the giddiness pluming inside you till it spills out in reams of incredulous laughter.

"you've thought this all out, haven't you?"

vi shrugs, leaning in to brush a strand of hair from your face, her eyes softening as she tugs you in for another long kiss.

"i promised that i'd steal you away for a night, didn't i?"

you swallow, licking your lips, your breath caught in the cool, summer night.

"that… you did," you answer, leaning into her as she pulls you along the pebbled path deeper into the garden. soon enough, the music from the ballroom is nothing more than a whisper on the wind, and the world no more than cricket-song and the steady drumbeat of your own, yearning hearts.

vi laces her fingers through yours, pulls you into her side till you're face to face again. she smiles, takes your other hand in hers and spins you around in a flourishing dip that sends the night sky pinwheeling above you. you let out a surprised squeak, laughing as you relax into the ridiculous position before she pulls you up and the pair of you spin in slow, steady circles, your cheek resting against her shoulder, her chin tilted slightly upwards as she hums.

hours pass, or perhaps only minutes. or, it might've been several moon-lit days. time slips, inconsequential, as the pair of you sway beneath the spinning, star-strewn sky.

"why can't it always be like this?" you ask, lifting your head just to peer up at her.

vi sighs, a tiny grin gracing her lips.

"it can — and it will —" and it's the conviction in her voice more than anything that soothes you, makes you believe, even for the fraction of a second, that this — all this — might end up working out someday. somehow.

"but for now…" she says, gently guiding you back to her, your bodies pressed, spinning in slow, unhurried circles amidst the blossoming florals of a summertime garden, you, leaning up to graze your lips to her jaw, feeling her shiver at your touch, her fingers tightening around yours for just a second before she relaxes again, chuckles, presses a soft kiss into the seam of your hair —

"just… dance with me."

TAGLIST: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @the-drama-is-real @froggybich @chwlogy @xrhyllamyx @yaeil @sweetybuzz25 @lustfirepoison @gigizwrld @bruisedbygod @luvmoo @autisticgirlkisser @elegantunknowncloud @norwayromanoff @16novvs -- join the taglist

[zweigsangel]

hockeyplayer!chris x ballerina!reader

gif made by me — moodboard.

he just can’t resist when he sees you— so undeniably cute and adorned in that soft, delicate shade of pink. smut, 18+

you didn’t hate that your father was the hockey coach, but what you really couldn’t stand was the routine that followed. after your dance class, when you were still in your leotard and tights, he'd swing by to pick you up, your hair still slightly damp from the exertion. instead of heading home, though, he’d take you with him to practice. every time, you’d sigh, sinking into the car seat, staring out the window as the city streets blurred past. you’d ask him, almost pleading, “can’t you drop me off at home first?” but every time, he’d look at you in the rearview mirror and he’d say, “no, sweetheart.”

so you sat there in the bleachers, watching the boys move across the ice, their faces flushed, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they skated back and forth. they were rough, energetic, colliding with each other and laughing, completely absorbed in their practice. the rink was cold, and the smell of the ice was sharp in the air. you sighed, reaching into your dance bag, feeling the familiar items inside—hairpins, ballet shoes, and a book. it was your habit to always carry a book with you, no matter where you were. with nothing else to do, you opened it and began to read, the words quickly pulling you into another world.

your hair was neatly tied in a tight bun, a pink ribbon wrapped around it in a delicate bow. your pastel pink leotard and matching skirt hugged your small frame, and your cheeks were still rosy from the exertion of your dance class. the way you focused on the pages in front of you, completely absorbed, made you look almost ethereal, like an angel.

chris sturniolo couldn’t help but notice. as he skated, his eyes kept drifting toward you, drawn to the way you sat there, so serene and out of place in that cold, rough environment. it was as if time slowed for him; you seemed to glow against the dim, harsh light of the rink. he was so entranced by the sight of you, with your delicate features and the soft pink of your outfit, that he didn’t see another player coming toward him.

suddenly, he collided with the boy, nearly knocking him over. “hey, chris, watch where you’re going!” the boy yelled, annoyed. the shout broke your concentration, and you looked up from your book, your eyes scanning the rink until they met chris’s. he was staring at you, completely ignoring the other boy. his blue eyes were locked on you, and even though you couldn’t see every detail from that distance, you noticed the way his cheeks were reddened, the embarrassed grin on his face, and the way he couldn’t look away. you couldn’t help but giggle at the scene, the corners of your mouth lifting as you watched him.

and so, naturally, as the practice drew to a close, he couldn't resist. the moment the whistle blew, he darted across the ice, his skates gliding effortlessly as if pulled by an invisible force towards you. you, meanwhile, were already packing up, your movements quick and efficient, the strap of your bag slipping over your shoulder. you were ready to leave.

“hey,” chris called out. his hand reached out, fingertips barely grazing your arm, so soft it was almost like a whisper. he feared you wouldn’t even notice the contact, but you did. you paused, turning around slowly, your wide, doe-like eyes locking onto his. there was a brief moment where time seemed to stretch, his breath catching in his throat as he took in every detail—the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle flutter of your long lashes, the soft flush on your cheeks.

'i... i'm chris,' he managed to say, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush. you giggled softly, the sound light and melodious, finding his awkwardness adorable. “hi, chris,” you replied with a warm smile. you then introduced yourself, the name rolling off your tongue like music to his ears.

“honey, i’ll wait for you at the car,” your father’s voice echoed, steady and firm. you glanced in his direction and gave a small nod, acknowledging him before turning back to chris. "i'm his daughter," you said, as if it wasn’t already obvious. "you’re beautiful," he murmured, almost without thinking, the words slipping out before he could stop them. he bit his lower lip and his eyes flickered over you, trying to take in every detail. the intensity of his gaze made your cheeks warm slightly. "you’re a ballerina, right?" he asked then. there was something in the way he asked, like he could already picture you moving to music, graceful and poised. “yeah.”

and even though your father was literally waiting for you outside, you found yourself sitting back down on the bleachers, talking to chris. time seemed to slip away as the conversation flowed, his initial nervousness fading with each word exchanged. around you, the locker room doors swung open, and one by one, the other boys filed out, their chatter and laughter filling the rink as they passed by.

"shit, i should go," you said after a while, suddenly standing up, the realization hitting you like a wave. chris immediately stood as well, the urgency in your voice pulling him to his feet. "no, wait," he pleaded, his hand reaching out instinctively to gently cup your cheek, turning your face back toward him. before you could respond, his lips were on yours.

the kiss started out soft, tender, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile. in that moment, everything else faded. his helmet, which had been in his hands, tumbled over, your fingers threaded through his hair. the gentle warmth of the kiss soon intensified, becoming more urgent, more demanding. without even realizing it, the two of you had moved, stumbling together into the locker room. you parted your lips slightly, a soft moan escaping as chris took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring and savoring your sweet taste, sending a shiver down your spine.

you moved together in a heated rhythm, your bodies instinctively seeking more until your back pressed against the cold, hard wall. the contrast between the chill of the tiles and the warmth of his body made you gasp, and his hands found your hips, gripping you firmly as if anchoring you in place.

chris's touch was both possessive and tender, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to hold you steady, yet gentle enough to keep you wanting more. he pulled back for a moment, just long enough to yank off his jersey and toss it carelessly to the floor, before his lips found yours again with renewed urgency. his hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and inch of you, and before you knew it, your skirt had slipped down, pooling at your feet.

"fuck," he muttered, his voice low and filled with desire, as your breaths grew more ragged, the heat between you building with each passing second. his hands were trembling slightly, driven by impatience and need, as he suddenly tore your bodysuit apart, the fabric ripping easily under his grip, falling to the ground in shreds.

"sorry," he whispered against your lips. “it's okay," you replied softly, as your hands moved to his waistband, quickly sliding his pants down, eager to feel more of him. a soft moan escaped his lips as he mirrored your movements, gently sliding down your stockings and panties. “may i?” he asked, his voice hushed. you nodded without hesitation, your breath hitching in anticipation.

his fingers began to explore between your folds, massaging you with slow, gentle strokes, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. the sensation made you moan softly, your lips parting as the sounds escaped. your hips began to move instinctively, pressing into his touch, silently pleading for more. “impatient, are we, angel?” he murmured, stopping his touch just as you were getting lost in the sensation, drawing a whimper of protest from your lips. his movements were deliberate now, unhurried, as he took a step back to lower his boxers down to his knees. then, he lifted you off the ground, his hands sliding under your thighs to support your weight.

"please," you whispered, your voice barely audible but laced with need. the word hung in the air between you, a plea that sent a shiver down his spine. it was all the encouragement he needed. with a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed into you.

his head dropped to your shoulder, and a deep grunt escaped his lip. you clung to him, your manicured nails digging into his back, leaving faint marks that made him groan deeply. the sound reverberated in your ears, adding to the electric atmosphere that surrounded you both.

his movements were unhurried, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to savor every second, every sensation. "you take me so well, angel," he moaned out, his voice thick with pleasure as he started sliding in and out of you faster. his words sent a shiver through you, intensifying the heat building inside.

your head fell back against the cold wall behind you as his hands cupped your breasts, your nipples hardening from his touch. every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your breaths growing shallow and rapid. you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, a sweet pressure that was becoming almost unbearable, signaling that you were getting closer.

and he understood, feeling the way your walls tightened around him, a clear signal that you were on the brink. "oh god," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with urgency as his hips moved quicker, the need to reach his own release driving him forward.

the intensity of it all became too much, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. the orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. you felt your release spill over, coating him and your thighs as he continued to move within you. the sensation of you unraveling around him pushed him over the edge, and with a deep, guttural groan, he followed you into ecstasy, his body tensing as he found his own release, filling you up completely.

he slowly pulled out of you, his movements careful as he adjusted his boxers and pants. his gaze dropped to the torn body on the floor, the delicate fabric ripped in half. “shit, ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean to,” he stammered, hands gesturing aimlessly. you let out a soft, breathy chuckle, your lips curling into a slight smile as you shook your head. “hey, it’s okay,” you murmured, the sound of your voice gentle. “really, it’s not a big deal. although... i’m not sure how i’m going to explain this,” you added, a hint of playful exasperation in your tone. and your father obviously didn’t take it well, seeing you walk up to him wearing chris’s jersey, your own shirt ruined and your hair a tousled mess.

[mariasont]

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive. 

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.  

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair. 

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle. 

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him. 

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there. 

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well. 

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction. 

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him. 

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that. 

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk. 

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb. 

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability. 

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[cumironi]

STARS AROUND SCARS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you were just trying to draw some stars on your boyfriend, not knowing simple things could be so hard when you have two needy boyfriends.

w/c : 8k (sorry, can't stop myself :'))

warning : lots, and lots of suggestive conversation, horndog! gojo satoru and fluff.

[☆] MASTERLIST

on a crystal-clear evening with the sky a vivid shade of blue, you and gojo satoru were enjoying a rare and cherished day off. the living room was bathed in the gentle, natural light of the setting sun, casting a warm glow over everything.

you were sprawled comfortably on the soft carpet, wearing a casual outfit that perfectly matched the relaxed vibe of the day: a short denim skirt paired with a white crop top, and ankle socks completing the look. gojo lay in front of you, his one arm lying flat as a pillow beneath his head, equally casual in a pair of short blue jeans and white socks, his posture relaxed and at ease.

while you two were savoring this peaceful downtime, your other boyfriend, geto suguru, was hard at work. he was busy attending an important meeting with the jujutsu higher-ups, his mind likely consumed by the demands of his role. it was a stark contrast to your serene afternoon, but you knew how dedicated he was, and it made these moments with gojo even more special.

colorful pens and crayon marks were spread out in vibrant disarray around you. the bright, vivid hues of the art supplies had left their playful imprints on the carpet, creating a whimsical, chaotic pattern that contrasted beautifully with the serene atmosphere of your cozy living room.

“oh, look at you,” you enthusiasly said as you carefully drew tiny stars around gojo's scars on his arm, adding a burst of color. “you’re like a living piece of the blue sky,” you giggled.

gojo chuckled, his lips curving into a charming smile at your words, “ah, so you think i'm a living piece of the sky, huh? well, i can't say i dislike that comparison,” he joked, his eyes watching your every move as you added the final touches with your colorful pens.

his gaze drifted to the colorful art supplies scattered around you, and his smile turned a tad more mischievous. “you're making quite a mess here,” he teased, gesturing to the mess of color covering the carpet, “i wonder what suguru will think when he sees this.”

you can't help but grin at gojo's comment, continuing to scribble playful little stars around his scars. “oh, come on,” you reply with a lighthearted roll of your eyes, “it's not a mess it's. . . creative expression.” you raise an eyebrow at his mention of geto, imagining the slight eye roll you'll get as he walks through the door and sees your vibrant ‘creative expression’ on the carpet.

“he'll probably just shake his head in faux disapproval,” you say with a soft laugh. “but secretly he'll think it's adorable,” imagining the look on suguru's face when he walked in to see the colorful chaos you'd created. “i'm sure he'll love it,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes playfully. “he always appreciates a good splash of color.”

as you continued your whimsical artwork on gojo's arm, he couldn't help but watch you with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “you've got quite the artistic touch there,” he remarked, observing the swirling stars you'd added to his scars. “i'm starting to feel like a canvas.”

you flash him a cheeky grin, “well, you're the perfect blank canvas, with all these little scars.” your fingers move with careful precision as you artfully create tiny spirals and swirls around his scars with your pens. the way his skin was so pale and flawless made the scars stand out even more, creating a unique canvas for your colorful designs.

“and you're being such a good ’canvas’ too,” you chuckle, gently teasing. “no squirming, no complaints.” your eyes dart between the swirls and stars you've created on his arm, admiring your own work. “besides, it's not like you're complaining. you wouldn't be lying here letting me draw on you if you didn't enjoy it, would you?”

gojo chuckled, “you've got a point there. It does feel kind of nice, having a pretty girl like you drawing on me.” he glances down at his arm, observing the colorful designs you've created. “i just hope suguru doesn't get jealous,” he teases, a smirk playing upon his lips, “he might think I'm enjoying this a little too much.”

“but you do enjoy this a little too much,” you look at him for a second before looking down to where his hand lies under your chest— under your breast more likely. giving it a gentle squeeze from here and there since the start.

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as you glanced down, well aware of the hand he had placed under you. “can you blame me, really? i have a stunning woman practically straddling my hand, and she's putting on quite the colorful show on my arm.”

his fingers involuntarily flex against your skin, the warmth seeping through your crop top, sending tingles down your spine. “especially when your hands are on me... touching me in all the right places.”

he gave your breast a light squeeze once again, his thumb slowly tracing a pattern on your skin as he met your eyes, a playful twinkle visible in his. “besides, i doubt you're complaining either, considering the location of your perch. but i swear, baby it's just for the art. completely art-related enjoyment,” he gives you a wink before chuckle.

“shut up!” you swat his hand lightly, trying to hide your embarrassment. “why do you have to say it like that? it sounds so inappropriate!” you then shift slightly, guiding his hand from beneath your chest to rest flat against the carpet, a playful scowl on your face. “just keep it where it belongs, okay?”

gojo chuckles, pretending to pout as you smack his hand away from your chest. “hey, i'm just being honest,” he replies with a smirk. “and besides, you were pretty much lying on my hand.” he lets his hand fall to the side, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, “now that you've moved it, i feel strangely empty,” he making a squeeze gesture with his hand, teasing you once more.

“it was nice having a little something to hold,” he adds, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a mischievous smirk. you roll your eyes at his pitiful expression, aware of his tactics to get what he wants. “don't give me that look," you chide playfully, “you're not getting that hand back, babe.”

yet, you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the way he talks about wanting to hold something, his voice low and suggestive. “and quit being such a pervert,” you add, trying to mask the way his words affect you.

gojo feigns innocence once again, “me? a pervert? perish the thought,” he teases, the smirk never leaving his lips as he watches the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i just appreciate beautiful things,” he continues, his eyes briefly roaming over your figure. “and you, my dear, are an absolute masterpiece.” his gaze drifts to your hips, admiring the way your short skirt rides up with each subtle shift. “and it's a damn good view from down here,” he mutters under his breath.

he reaches out towards where his hand was previously, only to snatch it back when you give him a firm look. “come on, don't be mean. i miss the company down there.” he gives you puppy dog eyes, his gaze pleading. “just one hand? for old-time's sake? i'll be good, i promise.”

you can't help but chuckle at his puppy dog eyes, the way they widen ever so slightly to make him look like a pouting child. “don't you start with that look,” you scold, trying to keep your resolve despite his adorable expression.

yet, as much as you enjoy the game of cat and mouse, you can't help but feel a tinge of yearning for his touch too. you bite your lip, considering his plea. “one hand,” you finally relent, “and you better behave yourself, gojo.” a sly smile dances on his lips as he hears your reluctant but consenting response, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you now. gojo slowly slides his hand underneath you once more, this time allowing his fingers to brush against your side, tracing the smooth curve of your waist.

his touch is light, like a whisper against your skin, as if he's testing his boundaries. “you’re so soft,” he whispers, his eyes darkened. “i don’t know how you manage to feel so soft and delicate, but also so strong and feisty at the same time.”

“stop tempting me!” you exclaim with a playful huff. “let me add these little stars to your arm without distractions!” you punctuate your demand with a light bite on his arm, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “i need to focus on my artwork, not on how you’re making this way more interesting than it should be.”

gojo can't help but chuckle at your attempted bite, his arm reflexively twitching under your teeth. “ow, ow, ow,” he exclaims in fake pain, “you're really getting into your role as a fierce artist, huh?”

his hand continues to slowly explore your side, his fingers gently tracing along the hem of your crop top, the tips dipping just slightly beneath the fabric. He watches the way you shiver under his touch with a mixture of amusement and fascination. “is that how you treat your canvas?” he teases. “well, if you weren’t such an irresistible muse, maybe I’d be more gentle,” you retort with a smirk. “but since you’re clearly enjoying this little performance, i might just have to give you an encore. how’s that for art?”

gojo lets out a pleased hum, clearly enjoying your playful banter. “oh, i'm enjoying it alright,” he replies, his hand still drifting lazily along your side, inching its way up to brush against the bare skin of your stomach, “i never knew being a muse could be this much fun.”

his touch becomes a little more insistent, his fingers now outlining the contour of your hip, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch. “keep going,” he encourages, “i want to see your entire masterpiece.”

your mind is a whirl of sensations. you try to focus on your work, continuing to draw the tiny little stars around gojo's scars, but his hand is a constant presence on your body, stealing your attention once again.

you try to keep your composure, to maintain the illusion of control, but the way his fingers glide across your waist, and the heat creeping up your spine betrays you. “i can't work like this,” you halfheartedly complain, your voice a little breathier than you had intended.

“come on, babe, let me just finish this,” you pouted, looking up at your boyfriend with a mix of frustration and affection. he responded with a gentle smile and a sigh of resignation. “alright, alright, i’m sorry,” he said, pushing himself up from the floor to give you a quick, tender kiss. afterward, he eased back down onto the floor, his free arm resting comfortably behind his head as he settled in with a relax expression.

gojo watches with a relaxed smile as you continue your work, his gaze shifting between the colorful stars and spirals on his arm and your concentrated expression. occasionally, his hand would sneak beneath your shirt or stroke against your arm, as if to remind you of his presence and the effect he had on you. you could feel the heat from his skin through your thin fabric, making you shiver each time he touched you.

“you're so focused,” he remarks with a hint of teasing, “it's quite adorable.”

just as you reach for another marker, the sound of the front door opening makes you look up. geto suguru has entered the apartment, his tall, lean figure filling the doorway.

“i'm home,” he says, his footsteps entering the living room after a beat. he looks surprised to find you and gojo sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by a chaotic array of colorful pens. his gaze flicks between the artwork covering gojo's arm to your flushed face. a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“well, this is a colorful sight,” he observes, stepping closer to the carpet, his eyes drifting over the markings on gojo's arm. the white-haired boy grins up at him, his hand still resting underneath you, “well, our little artist here decided to use me as her canvas.”

geto's gaze shifts to you, raising an eyebrow in amusement, “quite the masterpiece you've created there, love,” he looks down on you before crouching beside you.

you look up, smiling at your other boyfriend before kissing him on the cheek, “how is your day, baby?” you ask, soft and gentle as you continue to lie on your stomach and draw on gojo's arm. geto smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling slightly at your affectionate greeting. he leans down to return the kiss gently, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“my day was fine, darling,” he replies, his voice smooth and soothing. he glances down at the artwork you're creating on gojo's arm, his gaze flickering over the bright, vibrant stars and spirals. “i see you've been keeping our dear satoru entertained,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

gojo chuckles, “oh, I'm very entertained, trust me.” he gives your breast a gentle squeeze for emphasis. “our little artist has quite the touch.” geto chuckles, shaking his head at gojo's antics. he crouches down beside you, his gaze lingering on your focused expression as you continue your artwork.

he reaches out and threads his fingers through your hair, gently tousling it. “and how are you doing, my love?” he asks, his voice low and affectionate. you smile, “my day is good, satoru can't stop squeezing my boobs but it was good.”

gojo lets out a laugh, feigning innocence, “hey, i can't help it. they're soft and pleasant to touch.” geto rolls his eyes affectionately, giving gojo a playful nudge. “control yourself, satoru,” he says sternly, yet there's a hint of amusement in his voice. he shifts his attention back to you, his hand still carding through your hair. “ignore this shameless man here. i'm glad your day was good, despite his. . . antics.”

gojo pouts petulantly, his hand still resting on your hip. “i can't help it, they're just. . . right there,” he defends, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

geto huffs, shaking his head again at gojo's unabashed behavior. “you're incorrigible,” he mutters, though his voice lacks any real annoyance. he gazes down at you, a tender look in his eyes, “don't let him distract you too much, dear."

geto watches as you continue to draw on ojo's arm, a small smile playing on his lips. after a minute, he turns his attention to you, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder gently.

“can i have a turn too?” he asks, his voice is soft but hopeful. gojo's eyes widen slightly in surprise, his hand pausing on your hip. “hey, hey. what's with this sudden request?” he asks, mock-jealousy in his tone. but you can tell by the flicker of interest in his eyes that he doesn't mind sharing the spotlight a bit. geto simply rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement at gojo's reaction.

“of course, babe. you can have a turn,” you reply, shifting your attention to geto without paying attention to gojo for a moment. gojo makes a mock cry of protest, but there's a hint of a grin on his face. “hey, no budging in line!”

geto chuckles at gojo's theatrics, shaking his head at his childish behavior. “oh, hush, you had your turn,” he teased. you smile at them both, enjoying the playful dynamic between the two. “don't worry, he won't take too long,” you reassure gojo, glancing over at him with a playful smirk.

gojo pouts, but there's a glimmer of enjoyment in his eyes at the sight of you interacting with both of them. as geto peels off his uniform, revealing his lean, toned body, your eyes widen in appreciation. you can't help but admire his muscular frame, and a smile spreads across your face.

gojo lets out a mock-disgusted groan, clearly annoyed at how easily he's been replaced in your affections. “oh, come on,” he whines, “you're drooling over him already?” geto chuckles at gojo's complaint, taking a moment to flex his muscles, clearly teasing both you and gojo.

you roll your eyes at gojo's pouting, “oh, shush. you just don't want to share the attention, do you?”

meanwhile, geto is thoroughly enjoying the fact that he has your undivided attention, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and affection. “come on baby, lie here and let me put stars on you,” you giggle like a teenage girl who just got her first kiss from her crush. you pat a spot in front of you. geto grins at your giggling excitement, your enthusiastic invitation making him chuckle. he obliges, settling down in front of you, placing his head on gojo's stomach.

gojo, still feigning annoyance, huffs but can't help but also secretly enjoy the sight of the two of you together and the feeling of his boyfriend on his skin. “i feel like a piece of furniture here,” he complains jokingly. you puff a laugh, “come on, baby, don't be like that. i spend hours putting all these little stars on you,” you give him a peck on the lips, “i'll let you put stars on me too if you let me do him first, hm?” you caressing his arm that is now covered in colorful stars lovingly.

gojo's expression softens as you reassure him, his annoyance melting away under your gentle touch. “well, when you put it that way. . .” he mutters, reluctantly agreeing to your suggestion. he looks down at his arm, admiring the colorful stars you've drawn on it. “alright, fine,” he concedes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “but you're not allowed to complain if the stars i draw are messy.” you shook your head, “i won't baby.” you give him another peck on the lips and arm before smiling at him, your eyes sparkling as you look at him.

“you're such a baby, toru,” geto comments before rolling his eyes.

gojo huffs at geto's comment, playfully sticking his tongue out. “i'm not a baby,” he protests, his pout reemerging. “i just happen to appreciate the work my lovely artist is doing.”

you chuckle at their banter, amused by their sibling-like rivalry. “let him pout, babe,” you say to geto, patting gojo's stomach gently, “it's endearing.”

geto shakes his head, amused by gojo's sulking, “you're such a drama queen, satoru.” gojo sticks out his tongue again, clearly reveling in the banter. “oh, shut up. i'm just adding some entertainment to this little art session.” you try to hold back a laugh, enjoying the bickering between them. “alright, you two, can you behave for a little bit so i can finish?”

“besides,” you continue, grabbing a marker and shifting your attention to geto's bare torso, “he's just jealous he's not the center of attention right now.” you begin tracing a few stars on geto's chest, your fingertips grazing over his skin as you work.

geto lets out a content sigh as you begin drawing on his chest. his muscles flex slightly under your touch, a soft hum escaping his lips. he glances over at gojo, who is watching the two of you intently. “jealous, huh?” he teases, a lazy smirk on his face. “is his giant ego feeling threatened again?”

gojo huffs, but there's a playful gleam in his eye. “hey, i'm not jealous,” he defends, “i'm just. . . observant? and i happen to notice when i'm not the center of attention,” he pout, slightly rolling his eyes, realizing how stupid he sounds.

he pokes geto's side, causing him to jump slightly, still ticklish even in his relaxed state. “don't forget who's the real star here,” he adds, giving you a wink. geto swats away gojo's hand, rolling his eyes at his friend's antics. “yeah, yeah, keep reminding us all how great you are,” he quips back, his tone affectionate yet teasing.

you can't help but chuckle at their banter, finding it endearing how they can go from flirting with you to bickering like siblings in a matter of seconds. you continue working on geto's chest, tracing swirling patterns and stars over his smooth skin. geto's gaze drifts up to you, admiring your focused expression as you draw. he smiles, enjoying the feeling of your touch on his skin.

“you really love doing this, huh?” he comments, his voice is soft and affectionate. his purple irises never leave your face, drinking every second of you drawing little stars around his scars.

you glance up at him with a mischievous smile, “oh, absolutely. it’s not every day i get to add a touch of sparkle to such a handsome canvas. besides, watching you enjoy it so much makes it even more fun.” you lean in closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you continue your artwork. “i might just make this my new favorite hobby,” you give his skin a little kiss.

gojo, sensing an opportunity to steal some of the spotlight back, pipes up, “hey, what about me? I let you paint all over me too, ‘yknow.” you glance over at gojo, a coy smile playing on your lips. “oh, don't worry, baby. i didn't forget about you for even a moment.”

you reach over and give gojo's arm a reassuring caress, your fingers tracing over the colorful stars. “and you look adorable with all these stars on you.”

gojo grins, pleased that he's regained a bit of your attention. geto rolls his eyes affectionately, commenting, “there he goes again, always needing the attention.” gojo sticks out his tongue at geto in response, before turning his gaze back to you. “hey, it's nice to be appreciated, ‘yknow,” he whines, pouting like a child.

you laugh at his childish behavior, shaking your head in amusement. “oh, you're always appreciated, you big baby,” you say, giving him another affectionate caress.

geto chuckles, commenting again, “he's such a spoiled brat.” gojo, fully embracing his bratty attitude, puffs out his chest in mock pride. “damn right i'm a spoiled brat. the brat who gets all the attention.” geto rolls his eyes again but can't help but laugh at gojo's antics. “and he's proud of it too. such a child.”

you shake your head, continuing your work on geto's chest, enjoying the friendly banter between the two. gojo rolled his eyes before drifting his eyes to your bare thigh as you were still lying on your stomach, making his face eye-level with your thigh. gojo's eyes narrow upon noticing the bare skin of your thigh, exposed as you continue working on drawing on geto's chest. he can't help but admire the sight, his gaze fixated on the soft skin.

gojo's hand slowly creeps its way over, tracing a lazy pattern on the inside of your thigh, just above behind your knee. you stop for a moment to turn your head and see what gojo were doing before looking at geto who's already looking at him at the same time.

“just let him be, at least he's quiet,” you tell the boy before he gets a chance to throw another comment. a soft laugh escaped geto's lips, chuckles at your comment as he watches gojo's hand travel farther up your thigh, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over your skin.

he can tell from the look on gojo's face that he's completely distracted and fixated on your thigh, completely entranced by the sight before him. “oh, he's definitely not quiet,” geto comments, a small smirk on his face, “he's just drooling silently.” gojo's fingers continue to trace gently over your skin, his touch becoming more purposeful as he slowly inched his way upward. his eyes are half-lidded, his attention fully focused on the exposed skin of your thigh.

he doesn't even bother to respond to geto's comment, too lost in the sight of your bare leg, his mind wandering to all the things he wants to do to you. you shook your head, a defeated sigh leave your lips, “he's such a pervert.” geto simply chuckled at your comment, his gaze flickering over to gojo's fixated expression. “that's an understatement," he quipped.

geto nodded, his eyes following gojo's movements with a mix of amusement and resignation. “that he is. always fixated on the most inappropriate things.” he watches as gojo's hand moves higher, now gently caressing the sensitive skin just above your knee. “i swear, he has the tact of a child sometimes.”

gojo, still entranced by your thigh, finally snaps out of his daze upon hearing your comment. “baby, I'm not a pervert,” he protested, almost whining, though his voice lacked any real conviction, “i'm just. . . appreciating the view.” geto couldn't help but roll his eyes at gojo's weak defense. “yeah, sure you are,” he snorted, not buying it for a second.

he watched as gojo continued to caress your thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the soft skin. “appreciating the view, my ass,” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“more like salivating over it like a starving man,” he added, shaking his head in amusement. geto rolls his eyes, “‘appreciating the view’ with his eyes all glazed over and not a single coherent thought running through his brain.“

gojo huffs, but he doesn't protest further, knowing that there's a hint of truth in geto's words. his hand continues to wander up your thigh, his touch feather-light as he slowly inches towards the hem of your skirt. geto chuckled again, shaking his head at gojo's lack of denials.

“exactly,” he agreed, a smirk on his lips, “he's just a man controlled by his primal urges. and right now, his primal urge is to cop a feeling.” gojo pouts a little, but can't argue with geto's assessment. his hand slowly travels higher up your thigh, his touch becoming bolder, his fingers tracing the edge of your skirt, gently inching under the hem. “baby it's ticklish,” you move your leg the gojo's touch slightly.

gojo pauses his movements, hearing your protest. he glances up at you, a look of innocent concern on his face. “ticklish, huh?” he says, his hand still hovering just under the hem of your skirt, his index finger tracing small circles on your thigh.

gojo feigns innocence, “oops, my bad. i was just... exploring.” geto snorts, clearly amused by the interaction. “yeah, ‘exploring.’ that's one way to put it.” gojo rolled his eyes, feeling called out, but he can't deny the truth in geto's words. his finger continues to trace small circles on your thigh, his touch a mixture of feather-light and purposeful.

“i can't help it,” he defends, his voice sounding almost whiny, “you just have such soft skin, and... well, it's right there, begging to be touched." geto laughs again, shaking his head at gojo's feeble excuse. “right, it's all my fault. my skin just magically calls out to your wandering hands,” you mock, the sarcasm in your tone clear.

despite your sarcastic remarks, your expression holds a hint of amusement, clearly enjoying the banter. you glance down at where gojo's hand is gently caressing your thigh, his touch still light and teasing. “you're like a dog with a bone, ‘toru. once you get ahold of something, you just don't know how to let go.” gojo pouts again, feigning offense at geto's dog comment. “hey, i'm not a dog,” he replies, his hand still wandering higher up your thigh, almost reaching the bare skin under your skirt.

“and i can let go... when i want to,” he adds defiantly, “i just happen to really enjoy holding onto this particular... bone.” you rolled your eyes before sighing, continue to draw a stars around geto's torso “i swear I'm gonna die young with all of this headache you two gave me.” geto chuckles at your exasperated comment, enjoying the banter between the three of you. “hey, don't blame us for the inevitable early grave,” he replies with a smirk, “we're just adding a bit of excitement to your life.”

gojo, not wanting to be outdone, chimes in with a wink, “yeah, think of us as your personal stress relievers.”

you snort a little before nodding your head, sarcastically replying, “yeah right, more like adding more stress.” geto chuckles, “aw baby, don't be like that, you know from the start we don't promise you this relationship will be stress-free,” he pushes himself upward to give you kisses before lying back.

you playfully roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you continue to draw the stars on his torso, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. “oh, i know,” you reply, shaking your head in mock resignation. “but a girl can still hope, can't she?”

“yeah, sorry to break it to you, princess,” gojo jokingly says, his hand now gently gliding from your thigh to your hip, caressing the skin just above the hem of your skirt.

“but you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date us,” he adds, his voice laced with playful confidence. you take a deep breath, “that sucks,” supporting your face with one hand as you lazily draw on geto's skin. geto smirks, enjoying your half-hearted complaint. “yeah, it's pretty rough,” he replies sarcastically, “having two handsome and charming boyfriends who love and adore you. oh, the hardships you face.”

gojo pipes up, his hand continuing to explore your hip bone under your skirt, “oh, shut up. she should feel honored to have us.” you let out a laugh, shaking your head at their banter. despite your faux complaints, you secretly loved their back-and-forth banter, finding their playful bickering amusing.

“oh, trust me, i feel incredibly honored,” you retort with an affectionate eye roll, “having two massive, needy babies fighting for my attention all the time. it's a dream come true. now my mansion’s ballroom is a bit too crowded, and my collection of rare art pieces isn’t fitting in my oversized vault,” you sarcastically joke.

gojo and geto both roll their eyes playfully at your sarcastic comment, but they can't help but smile at your clever quip. geto laughs, shaking his head. “oh, yeah, it's such a burden having two wealthy, successful sorcerer— not to mention, the strongest in your life. your poor bank account is suffering.”

gojo chimes in with a grin, “and your poor heart must be strained from all the love and affection we shower on you.” you feign a sigh, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically. “oh, the struggles i face,” you say dramatically, your voice dripping with fake sadness. “having two handsome, charming men constantly pestering me for attention and showering me with gifts. it's absolutely terrible.”

gojo and geto exchange a knowing glance, both aware that you're laying on the sarcasm heavily. but they also know that deep down, you secretly love the attention they give you.

“oh, poor princess indeed,” geto says, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “it must be exhausting having two devoted boyfriends who worship the ground you walk on,” gojo sympatheticly said, tapping your ass. you let out a sigh, “i can't do anything about it, can i?” geto and hojo both give you playful grins, shaking their heads in unison.

“nope, not a damn thing,” gojo replies with a shrug, his hand still slowly tracing patterns on your hip under your skirt. geto chimes in, “you're stuck with us, princess. no backsies.”

“poor me,” you shook your head in defeat.

you tap geto's abs before changing your position to sitting, “now my turn,” you demand, giving the two boys a marker. pulling your crop top out of your body, leaving you on nothing but your pink bra and lying on your back on the floor. both boys stare at you with an almost predatory gleam in their eyes, clearly enjoying the sight before them. they take the markers from you, their gaze hungry and appreciative.

gojo twirls one of the markers in his hand, a sly smile on his lips, “oh, princess, you spoil us.” geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body, “you're giving us a blank canvas to work with. this should be fun.” both boys move closer to you, each taking one side of your body. gojo's hand begins tracing lines on your stomach, his touch firm and purposeful, while geto's fingers glide over your sides, drawing swirling patterns with the marker.

they work in tandem, their eyes occasionally locking with each other as they take in the sight of your body, their markers moving in perfect sync across your skin. “you're such a good canvas,” gojo murmurs, his voice low and husky.

“i know my love, now shut up and do your job,” you pinch his cheek softly. gojo and geto both chuckle at your demand, but they comply, focusing their attention back on your body, their fingers and markers gliding across your skin, their movements precise and deliberate.

“yes, ma'am,” gojo replies with mock obedience, his lips curving into a smirk. “we'll shut up and get back to work,” geto adds, his hand moving over your ribs, tracing small stars with his marker. they continue to draw on your bare skin, their eyes fixed on their task, their markers moving quickly as they fill in different areas. they occasionally glance at each other, exchanging secretive grins as they admire their work.

“you know,” gojo murmurs, his marker tracing the line of your hip bone, “we could do this every night if you wanted.” you raised your eyebrows, with a little smirk on your lips your replies, “or we could go to a tattoo shop and make this permanent,” you jokingly tells your boyfriends. gojo and geto both pause for a moment at the mention of tattoos, their eyes flickering towards each other. they exchange a glance, contemplating your suggestion.

gojo grins, the idea is clearly appealing to him. “you know, that's not a bad idea.” he says, returning his attention to drawing on your body. geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “yeah, we could mark you as ours permanently. make sure everyone knows who that gorgeous body belongs to.” they continue their work, their markers gliding across your skin, their touches becoming more possessive and claiming with every stroke.

“wouldn't it be hot?” gojo asks, his hand tracing an intricate pattern on your ribs, “you walking around covered in our marks, a permanent reminder that you're ours, body and soul.“ you chuckle, slightly amused by their reaction to your joke, “yeah, that's not gonna happen.” gojo and geto both pout playfully at your rejection of the idea, their eyes filled with mock disappointment.

“aww, come on,” gojo whines, his marker continuing to draw lines on your upper body, “why not? you'd look even hotter with a bunch of our tattoos all over you.” geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips, “yeah, imagine how jealous everyone would be, seeing all those ink marks on your body, knowing they can never touch you the same way we can.”

you snort, shaking your head while your eyes are focusing on the ceiling, “you're delusional, baby, nobody gonna feel that way.” both boys feign offense at your comment, their expressions hurt and indignant. “what do you mean, nobody's going to feel that way?” gojo protests, his marker pausing on your lower abdomen. “you're like, the most gorgeous person alive. of course, people would be jealous.”

geto nods in agreement, his fingers tracing a star on your hip, “yeah, you underestimate your own allure. you're a walking dream, princess.” you breathe a hearty laugh, ruffle your boyfriends' hair, “you guys are so sweet, you're making me feel good about myself, no wonder why i love you two so much.”

they continue their work, their markers and fingers moving in synchronized harmony, filling in the spaces on your body with their artwork. gojo glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his expression soft and loving, “you know we adore you, right? every inch of you, inside and out.”

geto nods, his gaze drifting over your body, appreciating every line and contour. “you're our world, princess. we're hopelessly smitten with you.” their words hang in the air, their sincerity and admiration for you clear in their voices. their markers continue to glide over your skin, their touch gentle and reverent.

they finish up their artwork, their markers making a few final strokes before they both sit back and admire their work. they move their gazes over your body, taking in every mark and design they've made. “there,” gojo says, a satisfied smile on his lips, “perfect.”

geto's eyes roaming over your body. “damn, you look even sexier covered in our artwork.” they both take a moment to appreciate their handiwork, their eyes roaming over your body, their expressions filled with pride and satisfaction. the artwork they've drawn on your skin is intricate and beautiful, a masterpiece of their combined effort.

“you really do look amazing,” gojo murmurs, his hand gliding over your hip. “we did a damn good job,” geto says, his gaze lingering on your stomach, “our masterpiece in the flesh."

you look down at the artwork adorning your skin, your eyes widening with genuine admiration. a playful smile spreads across your face as you turn to face them. “well, i must say, you two make quite the artistic team. if this is your idea of a masterpiece, i’d say you’ve outdone yourselves. i might have to start charging for these kinds of commissions!” you give them both a teasing wink, clearly impressed by their work.

you flash them a sly grin and say, “alright, art critics, i need you to snap a photo of your masterpiece. i’m sure you’ll want to show this off as much as i do. so, let’s get that camera ready—this level of artistry deserves to be immortalized, don’t you think?” uou strike a dramatic pose, making sure the artwork is front and center.

they both burst out laughing at your playful words, their eyes gleaming with amusement. they're both clearly pleased by your praise and appreciate your playful banter. gojo grins widely, his hands already moving to fish out his phone. “oh, princess, you have no idea. this isn't just a masterpiece, it's a work of art that should be displayed in a museum."

“damn right,” geto agrees, his eyes still wandering over your body, admiring the artwork he and gojo created. he leans over to grab his own phone, ready to capture the perfect shot of you and their masterpiece. “no need to tell us twice, we’ll document this masterpiece, alright. say cheese.”

gojo and geto both aim their phones at you, framing the artwork on your skin with the camera lenses. they snap a few shots, each from a different angle, making sure to capture every intricate detail of their masterpiece. gojo grins as he reviews the pictures on his phone, his eyes roaming over the image with approval. “damn, we've really outdone ourselves this time,” giving the boy beside him a high-five.

geto nods in agreement, admiring the pictures on his own screen. “that's an understatement. you look even hotter than i could have imagined.” they can't help but laugh as you strike a dramatic pose, clearly enjoying yourself. “that's right baby, just like that, look at you, you look like you're ready for a magazine cover,” gojo chuckles to himself, his finger hovering over the camera button.

“or the cover of a high-end art book,” geto adds, a smirk on his lips. “alright, smile pretty for the camera, princess.” you flash a radiant smile, channeling your inner supermodel as you strike a pose, knowing full well that you look absolutely fabulous.

gojo and geto both snap more pictures, clearly enjoying capturing your beauty and the artwork covering your body. “damn, you're a natural,” gojo says, studying the photos on his phone. “we should frame these and hang them up in our rooms.”

“oh? we're gonna hang it up in our rooms?” you ask, a glint of something flashing in your eyes. “well, we better make it worth it.”

so locking your eyes with them, slowly and sensually you take off your pink bra, holding it between your fingers while your other hand covers your breast. playfully, you throw your bra at them before laughing. gojo and geto's eyes widen in surprise as you seductively remove your bra and playfully throw it at them. they both can't help but grin, their gazes immediately locking onto your bare chest.

“damn, baby, you really know how to make a statement,” gojo murmurs, his eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin. geto smirks, catching your bra in his hand and hanging it around his neck, his eyes roaming over your chest. “you definitely make hanging up those pictures worth it.” you are lying on your side with your elbow kneeling on the carpet to support your head while your other hand is still covering your bare chest.

“come on, boys, take a picture of me,” you smile at them. they both raise their phones again, their gazes never leaving your form as you strike yet another provocative pose. their hands hold the camera steadily, their fingers poised over the camera button, their eyes still fixed on your body.

“fuck, you look incredible,” gojo breathes, his eyes roving over you, taking in every inch of flesh on display. geto grins, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “you’re making us want to drop these phones and pounce on you right now, princess.” they both snap a few more photos, focusing on different parts of your body, capturing every curve and contour in all its naked glory. their expressions are filled with desire and admiration as they take in the images on their screens.

“you're a goddamn goddess,” gojo murmurs, his eyes lingering on a particularly risqué photograph of you before adding, “and remember to stay just like that, princess.”

“agreed,” geto nods, his eyes roaming over the photo of you, clearly appreciating every detail. “this is something to keep in our private collection for sure.” you give them a sultry smile, “well, if you’re this impressed now, just wait until you see what i have in store for our private collection. keep those photos safe—I’m planning to give you both plenty more to admire.” you strike a playful pose, teasingly adjusting your position to give them an even better view. gojo and geto exchange a knowing look, their eyes lighting up with excitement and anticipation. they clearly love your playful attitude and the promise of more to come.

“oh, we'll be keeping these photos very safe,“ geto chuckles, his eyes never leaving your body as he continues to take pictures, “and we'll be eagerly awaiting whatever else you have in store for us.”

gojo smirks, his gaze roaming over your body once again, “you really know how to work a camera, princess.“ you look up to them, giving your boyfriends doe eyes as you remove your hand— now fully flashing them your breast. “don't stop now,” you murmur. the tip of your feet moving slowly to geto's abs, purposely open your legs knowing you are wearing nothing underneath your skirt except your pink underwear.

gojo and geto both freeze, their eyes widening as you slowly stretch your feet to press against geto's stomach, your legs opening to reveal your skimpy panties. they're both momentarily speechless, their gazes fixated on your seductive pose.

“holy hell,” gojo gasps, his hands clenching around the edge of his phone as he struggles to take more pictures. “fuck, princess, you're incredible,” geto breathes, his voice low and thick with desire as he looks down at your legs. they both start snapping more pictures, their hands shaky as they try to capture every moment of your seductive display. gojo's eyes dart down to your open legs, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he admires the sight between your thighs.

“can't believe how damn shameless you are,” he groans, his gaze still fixed on your body. geto nods in agreement, his fingers gliding over his phone screen, “you're driving us crazy, princess. you know just how to push our buttons.“ gojo's hand moves quickly, his fingers grasping the edge of your skirt and giving it a firm tug, revealing the skimpy pink fabric of your panties. he quickly raises his phone and snaps a picture, his gaze fixated on the lacy material that's barely covering your most intimate parts.

“fuck, you're a sight to behold,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

geto leans closer, his eyes locked on the photo on the phone screen as he adds, “and I didn't think you could get even hotter, but here we are.” they both can't help but admire the photo, their gazes taking in every detail of your exposed skin and the lacy underwear— already planning on their mind about making it as their home screen. gojo's fingers move over the phone screen again, zooming in to get a closer look at the delicate fabric clinging to your skin.

“you really know how to make things difficult for us, princess,” he mutters, his eyes tracing the contour of your hips and thighs outlined by the thin material. geto chuckles, a smirk on his lips as he adds, “we're not gonna be able to concentrate on anything else tonight after seeing this.”

“now, now, wanna try to make me see stars?” your toe slowly moving to the contour of geto's abs making their eyes light up at your words, their lips curving into wicked grins. they both know exactly what you're implying, and they're both more than willing to make it happen.

gojo's gaze darkens, a sly smile on his lips as he sets his phone down. “oh princess, you don't have to ask us twice,” he replies, stepping closer. geto also sets his phone down, a similar expression on his face as he moves closer to you. “we'll make you see the whole damn universe, sweetheart.”

“why don’t we take this party to the bedroom?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eye. gojo and geto both nod in agreement, their eyes filled with desire and eagerness. “i like the way you think, princess,” gojo murmurs, his hand already reaching out to take yours, his touch firm and possessive. geto brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin. “lead the way, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and suggestive.

they help you to stand from the floor. you take their hands, holding their finger before pulling them toward your shared bedroom. “come on, boys,” your voice is soft, sensual, like a siren singing for their prey. you turn around, once again flashing them your bare chest— a jeans skirt and a pair of socks are the only fabric on your body.

their gazes roam over your body as you flash them, their eyes hungrily taking in your bare chest, the exposed skin on your thighs and legs, and the soft fabric of your socks. they both make appreciative noises, their grips on your hand tightening slightly as they follow you towards the bedroom. gojo's eyes roam over your body, his voice low and gruff as he says, “you really know how to make an entrance.”

geto smirk, his gaze still fixated on your curves as he adds, “we're gonna have so much fun with you.” you reach the bedroom, and enter the room, the air thick with anticipation. the boys are right behind you, their hands still intertwined with yours, their eyes still trailing over your nearly naked body with hungry gazes.

gojo closes the door behind him, a sly smile on his lips as he locks it. “now that we're alone, princess,” he says, his voice dripping with desire, “we can focus all our attention on you.”

[xo2dee]

NOW LOADING. .

JJK MASTERLIST

OPIA/GOJO NSFW WEEK 2023 - DAY ONE: EXHIBITIONISM

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Exhibitionism, public sex, voyeurism, spit as lube, vaginal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, panty kink, creampie WORD COUNT: 5,906 SUMMARY: On a night out in the city, you're not exactly opposed to risk-taking. Or: Gojo and you fuck in an alleyway.

A/N: yes i know it says 2023 but most of this was posted back then on ao3 and i didnt feel like posting over here back then. but i changed my mind seeing as these qualify as oneshots as supposed to a linear story with multiple chapters, so i'll be posting all seven of these within the next week or so. pls enjoy!

Beneath the fluorescent lights and the shaking of the train, you felt it. Someone was staring at you, and with the dark lenses of his sunglasses over his eyes, you couldn’t really tell exactly where he was looking, or if it even was him looking at you. And being watched wasn’t necessarily new to you; or, really, when you were watched more than enough times to count by the man who had the ‘All-Seeing Eyes’, you got used to that particular feeling whether it was unwanted or not.

You didn’t mind it per se, but the lingering sensation was enough to make your eyebrow twitch and to run your tongue across your teeth in annoyance. It was always a nagging feeling – an itching crawling along your skin and tickling your nape whenever you knew someone was staring at you, and at first thought you figured it was him. He liked to look at you and liked to stare at you beneath either the shades of his sunglasses, or underneath the dark fabric of his blindfold, leading you to wonder at times if he was really looking at you, or if your senses were playing tricks on you.

Yet when it came to Gojo Satoru, anything was possible and he could’ve been looking everywhere at once.

(And while he liked to look at you in a way, which meant he didn’t necessarily like when someone else looked at you the same way.)

It was a rare night and you didn’t necessarily like taking subway trains, but when you wanted a more mundane night out with your boyfriend you’d take any offer you could. Ignoring the offhand comments about being able to take you anywhere without any waiting time, you wrangled Satoru into sightseeing the city with you, your arm hooked with his and kicking each other in the back of the legs for fun whenever you felt like teasing one another. He’d nagged a few times, effectively shutting up as he dragged you towards a sweets shop and got a total of six orders of dango (eating at least four and a half himself and leaving the rest for you), and when you wanted to move to a different part of Tokyo without randomly teleporting and remaining inconspicuous, you dragged him to wait on the next train to Shinjuku.

Which, in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best for his patience and easing any boredom, but when it was only you, him, and a couple of business men on their way home from work or just random tourists out and about, you figured it wasn’t that bad. Or so, you thought it wasn’t, until you began to feel that nagging feeling and peeked over at him from your phone to wonder if he was gazing at you, only to find Satoru facing completely forward with his lips set into a fine line and glasses covering any semblance that you could see of his eyes.

You leant forward into his space after pocketing your phone into your jacket, leg thrown casually over his own as his fingers curled into the fabric of your skirt to pull it down and pressed yourself against his arm. The nagging sense that someone was looking at you prickled your nape once more when you moved, ignoring it in favor of jabbing your fingers into Satoru’s side, “What’re you looking at?”

The corner of his lip twitched upwards for a moment, his head tilting to the side and it was then you felt his stare, practically seeing the blue through the lenses as he peered into your face. “Nothing important,” he answered, fingers twisting in the fabric of your skirt as he kept tugging it down – you supposed to keep any modesty for you.

You frowned at his tone, eyes glancing off to the side to the window behind you for a moment until you saw it – well, him. In the reflection you could stare freely, your spine tingling whenever you met the eyes of an onlooker you hadn’t noticed before openly ogling at you through the window behind your head. He wasn’t so open about it, sneaking peeks here and there, but it was clear as day at the time his eyes would gloss over whenever he got the sight of you and Satoru. Not so perverse… yet still enough to make you want to roll your eyes at the behavior; as well see the annoyance in Satoru’s posture.

Ah, that was his reason for the stiff legs and death grip on your skirt… It wasn’t unknown for Satoru to get jealous at times; nothing too ridiculous, just an arm thrown over your shoulders or his hand slipping down to grasp at your hip, but it was natural for him wanting to keep what was his, his. And nothing wrong with it, you felt the same, but you knew at times it was something silly to even feel a little green-eyed over.

Your frown lifted into a small smile, looking back to him and leaning close enough to him that your eyelashes kissed across his jawline and your lips were unreadable to the onlooker, “Don’t tell me: you’re mad he’s trying to look up my skirt?”

Satoru’s jaw locked once your words whispered across his skin, a fine eyebrow raising from underneath his glasses as you had to wonder if he was looking at you that time or still pinning the man with his eyes. His thumb smoothed down on your skirt in intervals; stimulating himself and jittering your nerves before he mumbled, “And you’re so nonchalant about this because…”

Lips pursing you casted another glance to the onlooker, realizing he wasn’t necessarily looking at you as much as he was looking at the both of you. Yeah, you figured it out, and if you weren’t someone who didn’t like to openly flaunt around with Satoru, or someone who didn’t necessarily like it when someone stared at you for so long, you probably would’ve been annoyed and grossed out. However, knowing he liked to stare at Satoru…

“Because maybe he’s eyeballing us both?”

His face twisted; nothing in disgust, but more genuine surprise and interest for your analysis. “For what?” his glasses slipped down, both iridescent eyes pinning you to your spot as you only shrugged with a coy grin and looked away as the subway came to a stop at your destination. A short ride; nevertheless, an interesting one that gave you a new coy idea whenever you felt the man’s gaze linger on you as you stood up before it widened in wonder whenever he took the sheer height of Satoru as he stood up as well.

Interesting.

You kept small smile on your face as Satoru’s fingers found your own, a “C’mon”, mumbled to you as he led you out of the underground subway station and into the night air of Shinjuku bustling with nightlife. Neither you or he said anything else about the matter, your steps falling in sync as you only began to sightsee (for yourself mainly) and speak randomly about mundane things. It weighed heavy in your mind however, flashbacks from intimate times before with Satoru making themselves known in your memories as the ordinary night you had wanted to have begun to twist into a want that began to throb beneath your naval and heat your cheeks.

It wasn’t until your palm started sweating in his own that the atmosphere changed, pulling his fingers and palm away from your own to instead thrown an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close and teasing you for the sweat before Satoru casted a glance from over his shoulder nonchalantly. A groan revibrated from his chest against your ear, wanting to look behind you to see whatever provoked such a reaction from him yet stopping short whenever Satoru’s pace picked up and his shoulder was too high up for you to look over.

“Of course…” he pulled you further into his side, your cheek pressing further into his chest, “Y’know, you attract the strangest men.”

“Yourself included?” you teased, tickling his side with your fingers before you gave another look back, lips pursing when you recognized the silhouette of the tourist on subway. In a normal situation you would’ve been creeped out; a guy following you around at night? Yeah, though you weren’t necessarily the most normal person around and had Satoru by your side, and you recognized the dilated pupils he had in the train of the same way yours had dilated whenever you thought back to the many sexual escapades you and Satoru had. And the way you’d never been caught… “What’s the matter, Satoru?” you asked breathily, a coil turning behind your naval whenever you caught his eye from under his lenses, “You can easily remedy this.”

“Well yeah, but I’m more wondering why you don’t seem the slightest bit disturbed,” he noted, fingers dancing across your shoulder as you caught the scent of the mint gum rolling around his teeth.

You shrugged, “I think you’re missing a better picture.”

“Elaborate.”

A light laugh escaped you as you both stopped outside of a narrowing alleyway, his hand falling off your shoulder as you instead reached for it with teasing fingers and a bite to your lip, “Remember that time Nanami almost caught us? You had to cover my mouth so he wouldn’t hear us –” Satoru opened his mouth to intercept, his head turning a fraction to the onlooker just feet behind you both, yet you continued with a squeeze of your hand, “ – but… I distinctly remember you got off from me getting off at the idea that someone might hear or see us.”

Under the orange glow of the streetlights, you could see the blush form; cheeks tinging pink as he recounted the memory with perfect clarity, a lick to his lips moments after and a hard swallow that made his Adam’s apple visibly bob. “Yeah… I remember that,” his hand rose, pulling his glasses off and flicking them closed before pocketing them with a certain heaviness in his eyes, “I remember it very well.”

Bingo.

“Or, y’know, when we were on top of the Tokyo Tower…”

“That’s still my favorite.”

“Or with your Infinity.”

“Hilarious.”

You rolled your eyes at his deadpan and rolled your neck around dramatically, “C’monnnn,” you pulled his hand, but he remained in his same spot, your eyes glinting around the shine of his hair,“Harmless fun? Besides…” you tip-toed closer to him, craning your neck to look up at him as your lips brushed his jawline, “don’t you like it when people know I’m yours?”

Satoru squinted at you, yet a slow expansion of his pupils spoke otherwise for his words. “You’re a… freak.”

You grinned and kissed his cheek, “You love it.”

“I do – God, I do.”

Satoru perked up afterwards, standing up straighter and fully twisting your fingers together as he pivoted sharply on his heel and began to pull you within the dark space of the alleyway. You smothered a giggle when the giddiness and love for the thrill began to welt up inside of you, squeezing his hand only once as you let yourself be dragged into the alley until you both got far enough to be hidden, yet not so completely covered by any eyes that strained hard enough.

Satoru stopped with heavy steps, hand slipping from yours with the slightest bit of apprehension along his expression whenever he turned back to you and towered over your figure, “You’re sure about this?”

A smile graced your face in spite of your roaring want, glad of his reassurance still coming into play. “I should be asking you…”

“Oh…” he looked around your face, hand coming up to stroke his chin as a self-satisfied smirk played across his lips, “Yeah, totally. We’ve done it before soooo…”

“Then we shouldn’t waste time.”

He moved as heartbeat sped up, fingers slipped under your chin, caressing your jaw softly as you smiled up at him before placing your own finger to his lips when he began to lean in for a kiss. You knew if you were going to do it so openly and so publicly, it’d have to be quick. His eyes glinted for a moment, a heaviness to them before meeting with your own as you shook your head, “And there’s no time for that…”

You drugged your words out with a simmering tone, only low enough his ears and only spoken in a way you knew he was familiar with.

Satoru was on you before you could blink, the fading streetlight bulb popping from an impulse of his cursed energy fluctuating out, and you could only realize milliseconds later that he’d been wanting you more than you had been wanting him during the night. His lips molded around your own, mouth crushing onto yours as your back hit the brick wall behind you and he locked your legs around his waist to keep you in his hold. Your clit throbbed trapped underneath your panties, something he was about to remedy for only but a brief moment as his slowly hardening cock pushed against your own want in a slow roll of his hips.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders the same time it happened, a moan trapped between teeth and tongue escaping you as he pushed you higher up against the wall, the brick scratching along your back as the distant sound of shoe scraping against concrete made you both freeze. Your eyes opened only momentarily, enough for Satoru to smack off of your lips with a pout settling on his own as his fingers dug until the bare flesh of your thighs and he called out nonchalantly to the Peeping Tom with a roll of his shoulders.

“Feel free to watch if ya want! But that’s all you’re getting!”

You gaped at his shamelessness, pressing your face into his shoulder with a laugh as his hands trailed up to squeeze your hips. Nearly wanting to kick your feet at the ridiculousness of it all, you could only feel your heart twist with adoration at the overall joy and humor you could share with Satoru; you supposed only you two would be able to snicker in each other’s faces at the idea of someone watching you two have sex… However, Satoru’s own shaking shoulders made you sober up a bit, turning your head to press a kiss to his jawline as you could only treasure carefree attitude he had through all the silliness you two would get into together.

The feeling of your lips on his jaw made him sigh, rolling his neck around until he got away from your face before diving into your own neck. A squeal bubbled out of you, nails digging into his biceps as he kissed your throat first with his teeth coming after that in a playful bite along where he knew a horde of veins sat. The feeling made you squeeze his waist with your thighs, a low throb making itself known once more as you wiggled around to press his dick anywhere near you could it get close to your clit. His own fingers clasped fully around your hips, hard enough to nearly crack his knuckles as his teeth released your flesh and his tongue smoothed over the bite to placate you.

A groan pushed past your lips, wiggling to try and push yourself higher and stow the heat in your stomach, “God, Satoru –”

“Hmm?” He was cheeky in the way he pressed his cheek into your own, flared hot and red with his inhales and exhales steadily growing in intervals and louder in volume.

You didn’t waste any time, cupping his face in your hands to pull his mouth back into your for a hard kiss as he released your hips, tapping his hands on your thighs in a sign for you to unwrap them from his waist. You obliged but only with confusion, jumping down from him as your messy kiss broke with a ‘smack!’, and trailing your hands along his shoulders for an explanation before he smirked and spun your body around expertly (like he’d done that particular move one too many times. Which he had).

Satoru hands found your hips again, walking you forward until you had to brace your hands against the brick wall and his front was pressed securely against your backside, the warmth he radiated generating goosebumps across your body as his treacherous hands moved up and squeezed your tits through your shirt. He relished in your sigh, chin falling onto your shoulder with a sigh as your back arched and your ass pressed into his crotch, “You’re the one who said we have no time.”

He rocked forward and you keened, nails scratching into the brick as his cock pressed up against your pussy and jolted your nerves, peeking at him behind your shoulder with a sly grin, “Yeah, I did, but I’m also waiting on you to get on with it.”

Satoru snorted, humorous and impatient at the same time as he abruptly pulled off of you, leaving you positioned against the wall before he bent down and reached underneath your skirt to snap your panties waistline against your skin. You rolled your eyes and knocked your foot into his calf, a snicker from him following as he leaned to press a chaste kiss to the back of your thigh with a soft bite, “The itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the water spout…”

Oh my God.

Leave it to Gojo Satoru to sing, ‘The Itsy-Bitsy Spider’ as his fingers crawled up your legs (like spiders, you guessed) to pull your panties down. You bit the inside of your cheek as they grew hotter, smothering a laugh as the absurdity you two were engaging in.

Satoru’s long fingers slipped into your panties, tugging them down as you arched your back and stood up on your tip-toes so that he could pull them down your legs and off of your feet. A breeze wisped around you without the comfort of your panties, pressing your thighs together to keep the warmth and wetness safe as you glanced behind you to watch him stuff your damp panties into his back pocket. You wanted to snark at him for it, however all words became lost when he upon you once more, a foot sliding in-between your own to kick your feet apart and slot his covered crotch against your bare pussy as his hand slid up your thigh to disappear underneath your skirt.

He seized your body with a light touch to your clit, whistling lowly into your ear at the clear evidence of your growing arousal with your knees buckling a fraction as his other hand moved back to palm at your breast and the two fingers dipped into your warmth began to slowly rotated atop your throbbing clit. The fire in your body grew, the fluids between your legs egging him on enough to move at a faster pace as you could only rock hips in time and push back against his cock to excite him further. The knot behind your naval began to spin, heat licking up your veins to the nerves on the top of your head at the expert way he could handle your body, a bite to your cheek a moment after your pussy drooled more and a long finger prodded at your opening.

Hips rocking forward to avoid him fingering you, you bent forward at the waist more to protrude your ass further and let your point get across. “No time,” you reminded him in a gasp, eyes glancing off towards the side and your cunt clenching in on nothing when you could see the shadow of the voyeur at the opening of the alleyway. Satoru only hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest through your back as he pulled away from you for moment, the sounds of his belt unlooping and unbuckling followed by the whine of his zipper.

“Then I guess we’re doing this the old fashion way.” There was humor in his voice, perhaps at your over eagerness to get him inside of you, and you had to whine when he was taking too long and you were missing his fingers. Satoru laughed softly, “Relax, baby,” a croon in your ear as a hand slithered up your spine, squeezing your nape softly before it curled over your shoulder with his palm out and awaiting, “Spit.”

Ah, he more than likely didn’t have enough precum or jerked himself off enough the lather himself up, a wry smirk creasing your face as you realized it really was like the ‘old fashion way’ whenever you two would have fast and rough quickies in places you shouldn’t have been. Regardless you ran your tongue across your teeth, rolling your tongue afterwards to produce enough saliva to spit into his awaiting palm. You did so, rolling your eyes at his quip of being overeager and patiently waiting for him to lather his cock up, the burning in your body beginning to ache in your spine and limbs for the rapid zealous want.

And, thankfully, he was back before you could miss him too much, the heat of cock sliding along your slit making your knees buckles and pushed onto him as he laughed and gripped himself to find your opening.

He was lethargic pushing his cock into you, a far cry from the oversensitive way his body coiled up and his manhandling against you, yet the slow press of himself inside of you had your thighs quivering, your cunt squeezing on his cock as he blew air through the cracks of his teeth. Biting your lip deemed well to keep your noises to the minimum, however once fully inside he pulled back out for a moment with one hand intertwining with the fingers of your own still placed on the wall, and within the next he wasted no time to harshly push himself back inside with the full expanse of his cock taking home into your cunt.

The loud moan you gave at the rough thrust was securely caught by his other hand, another one you blubbered into his palm captured as well as Satoru started a slow rock and push of his hips, his cock sliding deliciously in and out of your pussy in a way that made your cunt throb and squeeze to keep him inside. He grunted and widened his stance, your body bending further as it pushed him deeper and you drooled onto his hand with a muffled whine of his name.

His lips found your ear, husky yet with the tinge of that flippant attitude he liked to have, “As much as I wanna hear it, don’t wanna risk a peanut gallery –“ another grunt as he sped up just a fraction, the slide becoming easier due to your cunt producing more fluids and your spit lubed onto him, and you had to push back into him to get him to move faster. “One’s enough –”

You’d nearly forgotten about the onlooker, too engrossed with the man behind you and too obsessed with the coil of heat stoking itself in your body each time Satoru swung into you. The thought made you squeeze him a little too tight on him, a broken groan behind you sounding out as he stopped for a moment and removed his hand from your mouth and the other he folded his fingers over yours and pressed his knuckles into the brick. You heard a small crack from the brick, choosing to ignore it as you pushed your hips back into him, becoming frantic in your pace as the obscene sounds of your pussy reached your ears along with the new breathy moans since your mouth was no longer covered. Satoru fared no better, his breathing getting heavier and that nonchalant attitude slowly beginning to leave him as his hand followed the curve of your waist and his fingers found your clit once more.

Back bowing at the overstimulation, you moved, twisting yourself to the side to push one shoulder into the brick as your elbow bent and Satoru kept your hand held into his and one of your legs lifted upwards as you pressed it against the front of his body. Consequently, your cunt sucked him in deeper, the front of his pants soaked by then and you could only squeeze and sigh whenever he groaned particularly loud in a call of your name at the new position and began to move once more. It wasn’t too quickly at first, yet not gently either, crashing into you as he pressed onto your clit in rapid circles as well and your head could only begin to spin and your body could only follow his doing.

You could see his eyes at the new angle too, the iridescent blue seeming to glow in the dark as they traveled down the length of your body, settling on watching his cock disappear and reappear from your pussy before they moved back to watch your fucked out face. White teeth made an appearance when you met eyes once more as they bit into his bottom lip, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow and his head tilting back, “You’re so pretty – fuck.”

The compliment made your cheeks warm; nevertheless you were getting your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, but him just complimenting you that mid-stroke and sounding all breathy while meaning it would always just have a different effect on you. The muscles in your body were beginning to coil, a carnal part of you begging for release as he thrusts sped up more, the slap of your skin against the small sliver of his own filling the alleyway along with the way your moans and cries morphed into heeding gasped that measure alongside the rhythm of his thrusting. A part of you longed to draw the sex out, yet with the way he was putting more and more pressure on your throbbing clit and the way his cock kissed the uttermost part of inside of you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

And neither was he apparently.

A brick just below your hand cracked again, a fluctuation of Satoru’s cursed energy coaxing your body as he fucked into your harder, “Where –“ his head shook, eyebrows knotting together and eyelashes fluttering while he struggled to keep his composure, “where do you want me?”

“Please – inside. I want – you to cum – inside me.” Your words were jostled by each hard thrust, your shoulder beginning to ache as it was pushed further into the wall from the roughness yet the pain being completely drowned out by the pleasure. You could only focus on him and the ever-approaching orgasm, mentally tracing the spiral inside of you as you pushed up on the leg you still had on the ground to stand on your tip-toes to allow a deeper arch in your back and a deeper carve of his cock into you.

Satoru laughed, throaty and condescending before breaking off with a loud grunt, “You’re insane –“ he emphasized his point by another rough push of his hips, his back bending down so that he could be closer to your face, “Wantin’ me to cum inside while someone’s watching. You must love letting people see me slut you out, huh?” Satoru motioned with his head to your visitor, your eyes trailing of him for once to only widen when you could see the faint movement of them jerking off, biting your lip as the idea made your nipples harden and pussy clench.

“Mm, yes – love letting people – know – I’m yours.”

A snort and Satoru released the hold he had on your hand, gripping the thigh lying along his body in a bruising grip as he slightly pinched your clit, “Yeah, that’s right –“ his back bowed more, bent at the waist so that his whisper would caress your cheek before hiking your leg up higher so that your pussy pitifully taking his cock was on full display for anyone to see, “ – you’re mine.”

The combination of his words and the pinch on your clit had your body folding in on itself, muscles bunching and teeth gnashing together when your hips started to roll to meet him, a sad excuse of your orgasm sneaking up on you to fend it off. It didn’t help that you could still see the voyeur from the corner of your eye still aggressively jerking himself off, the notion of being watched getting fucked by Satoru sending your body into a myriad of different emotions and sensations that turned your resolve into mush. You had to close your eyes to fend it off, however Satoru’s finger on your clit combined with the way he was plowing into your pussy and practical molding you into the brick wall proved to be all too much.

Timing his thrusts with your gasps – in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, inandouinandoutOhGoddddddd –

You couldn’t take it.

Eyes reopening, you sent him a pitiful look, one that made him moan obscenely since he knew what it meant all too well. You could feel it unwind, a devasting fall when you already felt the undermine of your undoing, “God – I’m…. I’mmmmm cumming –“

Too soon your words were took from you, his fingers pinching your clit one last time as the coil behind your naval snapped, your pussy shuddering and squeezing what it could of his cock as your orgasm busted free about you. The lone streetlight that had been the only one illuminating you both abruptly busted in time with your body growing taunt as the nerves inside lit a fire throughout you. From your frontal lobe down to the tips of your toes, you felt alive; bursting free a kaleidoscope of colors tinging your vision and emotions alike with a pretty, cotton pink, a color you could only associate with the man still drilling a hole into your cunt. Foggy and boneless, you left your douse in it for a moments, completely forgetting for a moment that Satoru still had yet to cum and had his cock still fervently pressed within you.

The squelching sounds of your conjoining brought you out of your haze first, along with the tired breaths pulling free of your chest before you took notice of his own ragged breathing and broken groans. His fingers had fallen off your clit thankfully, taken to rest on the wall above your head as you could feel the familiar hum of energy radiating around you. He wouldn’t last long.

You clenched around him one last time.

Satoru cursed, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh enough that his nails began to nearly break skin as his thrusts became sloppy and desperate. “Shit – fuck – don’t squeeze –“ a high-pitched whine followed after when you squeezed about him once more, a wry grin on your face when you watched the familiar expression cross his face that made your stomach twist and another tight squeeze to his dick, “Fuck, I’m cumming –”

Eyelashes fluttering over your eyes, you watched him closely. From the discoloration of scarlet dotting his cheeks to his lips swollen from where he either captured between his teeth or the rough kissing between you both and all the way the on how his expression conformed into pure relief as his tongue whined out  garble of your name. It was enough to send a spasm into your cunt, a shudder encasing Satoru’s body as he cried out and wrenched himself fully against you, a gasp falling out of you at the way his cock pushed against that soft inside of you. His warm cum spilled into you deeply, thick in ropes that painted your inside completely white as that familiar warmth flooded your insides. You released the hold you had on your shirt to press down on your lower stomach with a soft hum when you practically felt your pussy shift and mold to allow more space for his cock and cum.

“Mmm.”

Satoru made a noise in the back of his throat when he felt you pressed down, sagging against your body as his rasping calls of desperation and excitation began to dissipate and you both remained still for a few moments in bliss before even thinking about gathering yourselves. You could nearly hear his heartbeat mixing with your own, his body withdrawing from your own as he slowly pulled his leaking cock out of you while you hissed at the hyper-sensitivity and he groaned at the sight of his cum beginning to seep of your gaping hole once he was fully out. “Oh, baby.”

Holding back a snort you began to straighten yourself out as he steadied you, pulling your skirt back down over your hips and smoothing down any wrinkles in your shirt while discreetly watching him tuck his dick back into his pants. He ran a hand through his hair after that, your back meeting the wall behind you as you didn’t necessarily trust your legs to not wobble if you started to walk, and Satoru joined you with a breathy laugh. Rubbing your thighs together you grimaced, holding your hand to him and curling your fingers in a ‘Gimme’ motion.

“Panties.”

His expression morphed into confusion as he let the word hang in the between you both for a few moments. “What?”

“Give me my panties,” you emphasized your point by shaking your hand, palm out, “I’m not walking home commando and with your cum leaking out.” It was bad enough you were already feeling it… along with the stickiness slathered on the inside of your thighs.

He had the nerve to pout, patting his back pocket where you panties were still hanging out for the world to see, “Ugh, that’s so hot though…” It was silent as you stared at each other, one eyebrow of yours raising in challenge as you didn’t really feel like bringing out, ‘Satoru, so help me God’ voice. He rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the wall, fishing out your wet panties and wadding them up in a ball before slapping them into your awaiting palm. “Fineeeee.”

“Crybaby.” You ignored his whine.

You wasted no time pulling them back on, shuddering at the coolness mixing with your heated pussy still raw and sensitive as he saddled up next to you and threw an arm around your once you were settled. You took a long inhale to douse yourself in his cologne, the scent refreshing from the stench of sex while you two began to leave the area you defiled, and Satoru’s humored tone breaking you out of reverie once you reached the opening of the alleyway, “Looks like your little Peeping Tom ran off. Hope he enjoyed the show.”

Almost forgetting about him entirely you looked up and down for a moment, a smirk lining your lips as you noticed substance you nearly scuffed your shoe on, the same type you could feel nearly seeping through your underwear, “He did.”

A, ‘Ha!’ left him once you pointed at the area, drawing you closer as he bent to whisper hotly in your ear,“We should do this again next time.”

“Yeah, next time we should fuck on the beach in Okinawa.”

“…Don’t tempt me.”

[sun-kissy]

crystals | r.b.

regulus black x whimsical!reader

“Baby,” Regulus’ voice comes out two parts affection and one part exasperation as he feels your knees pressing down into the bed on either side of him. You hum distractedly in response, mind wandering to places he knows he can never follow.

He cracks his eyes open, a small smile involuntarily making its way onto his face at the sight of you. You’re as pretty as you always are, so pretty he wonders if you’re actually a dryad of some sort. You certainly look the part, with daisies braided into your hair and miniature toadstool earrings.

He watches as you outstretch your fingers to fiddle with the chain on his neck, your eyebrows bunched in concentration. Your tongue juts out of your lip adorably as you bite down on it, and he resists the urge to kiss you senseless.

The chain Regulus was wearing was nothing more than a thick black string, but it was knotted around various small crystals, courtesy of your hobby of collecting them. When he had first asked you out with a ring, you had shyly given him this string with a single crystal hanging from it – a rose quartz. “For my unconditional love,” you had mumbled, blushing so hard he thought you mirrored a rose. But the pink that coated your cheeks was a lovelier shade than any flower he had laid his eyes on.

From then on, you would knot new crystals onto the string whenever you found them. Regulus was pretty sure some of them had to have been rocks or pebbles, but he loved you too much not to indulge you.

“Mon chéri,” he tries again, amusement seeping into his tone. “It’s 5 in the morning.”

“So?” you ask distractedly, your fingers still tugging and pulling his necklace from side to side. “5AM is when the crystals are most active, you know. This is when they pull the most power from the core of the earth,” you explain matter-of-factly, so dedicated to your task that you don’t notice his smile widening.

You sway forward slightly, unable to balance on the balls of your knees. Regulus silently wraps his palms around your hips, tugging downward until you’re comfortably seated on his stomach.

That was when he noticed you had odd-shaped stones in one of your hands, sunlight reflecting off of them to give a pale blue glow. “What are those?”

You perk up at his question, abandoning your task of trying to tie the stones onto the string. Your head tilts upwards to give him a sunny smile. “They’re aquamarine crystals, obviously.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his smile softening. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it’s always just as endearing to him. The way you smile fondly at him – like he’s silly for not knowing.

“Yeah,” you beam. “I found these in the stream nearby, the one next to the big daisy field with all the horsies.”

“You walked into the water again, then?”

It’s too laden with fondness to sound accusatory, but you turn slightly sheepish anyway, nodding. Your hands find their way back to his necklace, and this time you manage to loop the string around a crystal successfully. Your face lights up, obviously pleased with your work.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to run his hands down your long skirt. As expected, he finds it damp and sticky. “You’ll have to take a bath, mon amour.”

“In the stream?”

“No,” he mutters, trying but failing to conceal his amused grin. He presses his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself upwards to press an amorous kiss to your forehead. He can’t help himself, the blush on your cheeks and the shy smile too much for his heart to handle. “In the shower, baby.”

“Oh,” you reply as a way of answer, and Regulus can’t help but chuckle at the slight disappointment in your voice. “Maybe I can shower in the water tomorrow, then? With all the ducks. These ducks are nice; they eat the bread I throw at them. You can come too if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” he replies indulgently, with absolutely no intention of letting you bathe with the ducks instead of with him — but he was never one to deny you anything you asked for.

[sparkriddledfever]

Okay but like the milk maiden dress definitely gets those engines revving.

Reader is gender neutral.

Warning: 18+ under read more. Cunnilingus (in First Aid's part)

(Megatron, Prowl, First Aid, Hound)

Megatron may be an old, tired mech. Though that does not stop him from appreciating this sight before his optics upon entry into his habsuite.

The dress slightly hiked up your thigh, the front almost daring to slip off; threatening to tease his optics with the bare flesh. Daring him to descend upon your form without remorse since you just want to be a slagging tease. His fans switched on low, his face failing to hide behind that stoic persona. Yet you knew you had him flustered, a soft laugh roused from your lips.

"I was-" he cleared his throat to clear it of the static, "was not aware of any special occasions."

"No special occasion besides wanting to surprise my favorite mech," you winked.

A light snarl escaped him at the tease; he swiftly enters the suite and descends upon your flesh.

Prowl necessarily didn't have time to stop and drop everything. However, you just had to come into his office while he's leg deep in his work and show off that dress without shame. Telling him to take a break all the while purposely spreading your legs wide, leaning back on your hands as an invitation to him.

Well, since you kindly allowed him to take what he wants. He shall take advantage of it.

"P-Prowl! Slow down!-" you squeaked when his servos slammed down near your head. His optics glared down at you in those same fiery shades of blue, never once did his hips falter in their thrusts, a slight uptick of his dermas sent that fiery liquid feeling through your nerves and pooled in your stomach.

"I believe you don't have a say since you gave me the choice to relax. So, I am relaxing-" he grunts when a comm blimp into his HUD, growling as his tempo was thrown off, "fraggers."

"H-Huh?"

"Silent," he press two digits to his audials, "what is it now?"

Prowl rolled his hips slowly while quickly covering your mouth. He sent you a silent warning to behave, but you were never the one to follow his orders.

First Aid always admire his sweetspark even you happily show off new stuff or clothes to him. He always took the time to compliment you or share your joy, if he was going to play favorites though. His absolute, all-time favorite is you in a red and white summer dress; of course, he's a sucker for anything you wear that's in his colors. This specific one had his engine revving in delight.

His digit played with the strings while his dermas kissed down every bare inch of you. He softly vents, the air billowing over your heated skin sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, he lifted the skirt up; groaning softly at the sight of your wet pussy under the sun's gentle light flooding through the window.

He leans forward without a thought to his processor, placing a sloppy kiss to your clit. His glossa lapping up your juices and running it across his dermas. Rousing a sweet, shrill gasp from you. Making him smile in delight and filled with the urge to hear more of your sweet sounds.

Hound is a sucker through and through. You, who got him all wrapped up around your pinkie, have him stumbling and chuckling like a young mech. Flutter your eyes up at him while wearing that dress in his shade of olive green. He's truly panting like a dog when you press yourself up against him, letting him rut his spike between your thighs.

His servos trembled to keep his strength in check to not squeeze your hips too hard. His optics never once left your ass, too much focused on it rippling under his thrusts.

"Yer- ngh- killin' me here, darlin'. Yer gon be tha death of me, I swear."

It's not fair that your laughter gotta be so saccharine to his audials, making him feel like liquid with such ease. His helm drops into your neck with a barely audible whine when you squeeze your thighs together around his spike. You lean back into his hold, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. Your lips brush against the sensitive audial, smiling with a soft blow to it,

"It'll be much easier for you to overload in me, no?"

Now, you're truly trying to kill him, huh?

[fox-guardian]

[ID: Digital drawings of the OIAR staff from The Magnus Protocol as anthropomorphic cats on a gray background. They are all full body drawings. Sam is a black and white tuxedo cat, Alice is an orange and white cat with a bob tail, Celia is a Cornish Rex with a purple and white mottled "salty licorice" coat. Teddy is a brown British shorthair, Colin is a light brown Lykoi, Gwen is a fluffy diluted calico, and Lena is a shorthaired grey tabby with a bob tail.

The first image shows Sam, Alice, and Celia. Sam is shorter and fat, and he has curly black hair, and he is smiling with his hand held in front of him lightly touching. He is wearing a cream mockneck shirt, dark brown cardigan, and dark red trousers. Alice is tall and lanky, and she has shaggy light brown hair with faded pink tips, two pairs of silver earrings and snakebites, and she is wearing a burgundy bra, a patchwork skirt made of flannels in shades of gray, brown, and pink, a few bracelets, and pink cat-eye glasses and pink painted claws. She is slouching slightly with one arm crossed over the other, smiling and waving. Celia is slightly less tall and slim, and has short black hair, gold industrial piercings, X-shaped earrings and snakebite studs. She is wearing a light green button-down, purple vest with gold buttons, dark green trousers, a black cuff on her wrist, and rectangular glasses. She is standing and facing slightly to the side, with one hand around her back holding her other arm while that hand fidgets.

The second image is of Teddy and Colin. Teddy is fat and has a goatee and mustache, and small gold hoop earrings. He is wearing a gold and brown argyle sweater vest, a pale yellow button-down, a gold tie, and brown belt and trousers. He is smiling and waving with his other hand holding onto the side of his belt. Colin is skinny with pale skin visible through patches of fur, and he has a mustache, large cat whiskers, blue eyes, and small silver earrings. He is wearing a yellow t-shirt under a blue button-down and light brown hoodie, blue jeans with brown knee patches, a couple bracelets, and rectangular glasses with yellow lenses. He is snarling and hunched with his ears back and claws bared, looking furious.

The third image shows Gwen and Lena. Gwen is shorter and mid-sized with long blonde hair in a ponytail, and she is wearing a white button-down, gray sweater, and black pencil skirt. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides and looks annoyed at the viewer. Lena is taller and slim, with light brown hair in a bun, and silver oval glasses on a chain. She is wearing a red button-down, a brown belt, and white trousers. She has a neutral expression and one arm crossed over the other while the free hand lifted and fidgeting with her claws.

The fourth image is a lineup of all of them. In order: Sam, Alice, Celia, Gwen, Colin, Teddy, Lena. end ID]

~~~~

the magnyas protocol. protocat. catocol. catnus protocol. k. kitties <3

[deustux]

‼️Warning, this post has been rewritten. Due to me not explaining my points well at all (in my opinion) and also because im just un happy with how I've worded this. (No one has nagged or harassed me to do this. I'm doing this of my own free will).‼️

I understand why people do not like Varesa's design. Is she fanservice? Yes (like her skirt is barely there) and I also understand that she really does not fit into Natlan. (Like most of the natlan characters together do not look like their from the same nation).

However, I do absolutely love and adore her design. I also love the new body type (it's nice to not see the same body type on 90% of the women and a new body type being created and hopefully used onto new woman characters makes me so happy).

I also will say that she is not plus sized as she is still skinny and really only has thick thighs and the only reason she looks plus sized to a lot people is because the only bodytype woman characters had was either child or skinny itty bitty woman. (no slander to irl people with that bodytype as the bodytype isn't the issue it's how God damn re-used it is).

I absolutely love her colour palette and her design (I understand the tiny skirt and the knitted sleeves is really off putting to people). I also really love characters with Horns as well as pastel colours (light blue and light pink go so god damn hard).

My issues with the backlash is:

1) People claiming she's "fat fetish Material" in my opinion as a plus sized person (I'm not stating my fatness as a way to make you agree or to prove you wrong, just to let people know I genuinely don't see it that way). I don't think she is. The reason is because it's genshin, it took them 4 years to make a new woman model that might not be used again. This is the company that refuses to make Black characters and will only make light skin dark characters (9 out of like 95 characters are dark skin whilst 86 characters are all paper white). I genuinely do not think they'll make a character catered to fat fetishists when it took them 4 years to make a character with a little more meat on their bones and in a gaming community who's ideal waifu is skinny with big boobs and thighs (no shade to people who are into that at all) I do not think these people would be turned on by the idea of fat fetish Material.

2) People assuming that only "gonners" like her character design and if you genuinely like it, then it must be for fanservice or nsfw reasons. Sure, a lot of people may love her design for that reason and all power to them, but let's not accuse everyone of liking her for those reason. I definitely don't like her for those reasons, and if anything, I love her for just how pretty the art is, and my autism is gonna autism when it sees a design that is colourful and cutesy.

I would love and adore a chubby/plus sized character but for now I'm just happy we got a new character model. (Also I do have genuine problems with genshin for their characters being so God damn white and the shit show that was natlan. So I'm not gonna suck their dick and pretend their a perfect billion dollar company).

I also understand a lot of this outrage is also because Genshin isn't listening to their audience asking for basic updates and qols after 4 years as well as the bad rewards and asking for their opinions and issues only to ignore it and add useless shit. And so you have these understandable angry fans rightfully mad at the developers and then see a character who aligns with the way genshin appears to be going.

So I do understand the outrage and why people's hatred and just general annoyance of being ignored has built up into this anger aimed at Varesa.

It also doesn't help when natlan a nation of war was turned into a nation of sports and the god awful mavuika design (I will never get over her zipper going from her tits and vagina to her ass seriously. Especially in a latex suit in a land full of volcanoes and just all around a very hot place with a silver metal zipper, which definitely is burning her parts).

As well as the designs not matching what people wanted from a nation of war. The only designs I can see working for natlan is mulani, kachina, kinich and orlan (ofc if you take those damn jeans away since that's the only iffy part of his design in my opinion).

So yeah I understand Varesa does not fit into natlan and is also part of the massive problem people had with natlan in general.

‼️You can disagree with my opinion and absolutely hate her character design. Just please be respectful when disagreeing or agreeing with others and be kind in the comments to each other.‼️

[buldakcorn]

[IMYJ-1111] Heroine in Grave Danger! The Fall of Sailor Pluto

LOONA/LOOSSEMBLE Yeojin x Monsters

Genre : (TW) Dubcon, JAV-inspired, Superheroine, Electrocution, Mindbreak, Sweaty Sex, Gangbang, Monster Cock, Overstimulation, Triple Penetration,

9141 words

As dawn broke over the bustling metropolis, the usual hum of activity began to resonate through the concrete jungle. The neon lights that had once cast a vibrant glow over the city streets gradually dimmed, making way for the early morning sun. In a modest apartment nestled between towering skyscrapers, Im Yeojin stirred from her sleep. Her night had been anything but ordinary—as Sailor Pluto, she had single-handedly thwarted a heinous plan to steal the city's time itself.

The criminals, a mysterious group known only as the Time Snatchers, had sought to plunge the world into an eternal nightmare of stagnation and chaos. With her trusty Garnet Rod and her unyielding sense of duty, she had sent them reeling into the depths of oblivion, restoring the flow of time and granting the city's inhabitants another chance at a brighter future.

But as Yeojin stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she was keenly aware that she had to juggle two very different lives. In just a few hours, she would transform from the guardian of the underworld to a mild-mannered office worker. She had to keep her secret identity under wraps, ensuring that her colleagues never suspected that their punctual and diligent coworker was the very heroine who had saved them from the clutches of temporal despair.

The delicate balance between her two worlds was a constant challenge, one she faced with the same determination she brought to her battles as Sailor Pluto. With a deep breath, she donned her business attire and set off to conquer the day ahead, her secret identity nestled safely beneath her square glasses and the surface of her mundane existence. Little did the city know that their salvation was just a coffee break away.

The office buzzed to life as the clock struck 9, and Yeojin, still half in her Sailor Pluto mindset, found herself lost in the sea of paperwork on her desk.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when her coworker, flicked on the small TV mounted in the corner of their shared office space. The news blared to life, displaying scenes of panic and chaos at the city square.

Her heart skipped a beat as the newscaster reported a brazen attack by a monstrous creature and its goon squad, leaving a wake of destruction in their path. The mood in the room grew tense as the images of terrified citizens flashed across the screen. Yeojin's eyes widened with recognition—this was no ordinary street brawl.

She knew all too well the eerie aura that clung to the monsters she battled as Sailor Pluto. The Time Snatchers had returned, and it was clear they had not abandoned their nefarious goals. With a silent vow to protect her city once again, Yeojin felt the transformation stirring within her.

Yeojin's pulse quickened as she excused herself from her colleagues, her mind racing with the gravity of the situation. She swiftly made her way to the rooftop of the office building, the solace of the early morning air offering a brief reprieve from the tension building within her. Gripping her Garnet Rod tightly, she recited the sacred incantation that would empower her transformation. A burst of light enveloped her, and as it faded, she stood tall in her Sailor Pluto uniform—a stark contrast to the dull office attire she had worn just moments before.

The blue crop top and skirt fluttered in the gentle breeze, her knee-high socks adorned with the symbol of Pluto's power, and her brunette hair now adorned with a fiery red bow. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her duty press upon her once more. With a graceful leap, she cast aside her glasses, and as they tumbled to the rooftop, so too did the last vestiges of her civilian identity. Her eyes, now a piercing shade of blue, surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding below.

Time had once again been disrupted, and she was the only one who could set it right. With a powerful beat of her heart, she launched herself into the sky, her transformation complete. Sailor Pluto was on her way to face the Time Snatchers.

Sailor Pluto descended upon the city square with the force of a meteor, her arrival shaking the very foundation of the concrete playground the Time Snatchers had claimed as their battleground. As she hit the pavement, her fist connected with a tremendous thud, sending a shockwave that toppled the nearby goons like bowling pins. The monstrous creature and its minions, caught off guard by her sudden appearance, paused in their destruction to gaze upon the new threat.

Yeojin felt the power of Pluto surge through her veins, her eyes narrowing with the unyielding determination to protect her city. Rising to her full height, she called upon the ancient guardian within, her voice echoing through the square as she announced her intentions,

"I am Sailor Pluto, protector of the underworld and the keeper of time! I shall not let you desecrate the flow of time any further!" The creature snarled, its eyes flashing with malice, as the battle for the city's future was about to commence anew.

The monstrous leader of the Time Snatchers, a creature that stood a towering ten feet tall with a grotesque grin, sneered at Sailor Pluto's declaration. "A mere mortal dares to stand before us?" it bellowed, its deep, echoing voice laced with amusement. It gestured to its minions, who cackled in agreement, pointing at her diminutive form.

Yeojin, despite her smaller stature, remained unfazed. She knew all too well that true power did not stem from size but from the unyielding spirit that resided within her. With a grace that belied her compact frame, she raised her Garnet Rod high, its gem pulsing with an eerie light that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of time itself. Her eyes gleamed with a fierce resolve that sent a shiver down the creature's spine, hinting at the formidable force she was about to unleash.

The monster's overconfidence was about to be its undoing, as Sailor Pluto, the guardian of the temporal realm, was more than prepared to teach it a lesson it would never forget.

"My goons, attack!"

The goons, emboldened by their leader's command, charged at Sailor Pluto like a horde of maddened bulls. She deftly dodged their clumsy advances, her movements swift and precise. Each evasion was a dance with fate, every step calculated to bring her closer to the monstrous leader. The creature watched with growing irritation as its minions were sent flying with a graceful twirl of her Garnet Rod. The air around her grew thick with anticipation as she gathered her power, the very essence of time bending to her will.

In a flash of bluish-white light, she unleashed a powerful blast, "Chronos Typhoon!" The goons were sent spiraling into the sky, their shrieks piercing the air as they were dispersed like leaves in a tornado. The creature, caught off guard by her sudden display of strength, took a step back. Its smug grin had vanished, replaced by a snarl of fury. It knew then that it had underestimated her. The battle was far from over, but the Time Snatchers had just caught a glimpse of the true power of Sailor Pluto—a power that would not be so easily dismissed.

The creature grew in size, its eyes burning with a dark, malevolent energy. The ground trembled as it raised its arms, ready to unleash an attack of its own. Sailor Pluto's grip on her Garnet Rod tightened, her stance unyielding. She was ready to face whatever horrors this being had in store, her eyes never leaving the monstrous visage that now loomed over her. The fate of the city hung in the balance, and she was the only one standing between the Time Snatchers and their ultimate goal.

The creature's attack came swiftly, a black tendril of shadowy energy that threatened to swallow her whole. But Sailor Pluto was not one to back down. With a swift pivot, she sliced through the tendril with her Garnet Rod, the energy dissipating into a shower of sparks. The creature roared in anger, its true form momentarily revealed—a twisted amalgamation of time and darkness.

Yeojin felt a surge of adrenaline as she recognized the true enemy she faced—Chronos, the god of time itself, an enemy she once fought, corrupted by an unknown force. This was no ordinary fight; she was battling the very fabric of time that she was sworn to protect. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she pushed aside her fear. This was her duty, and she would not fail.

With renewed vigor, Sailor Pluto leaped into the fray, her crimson bow fluttering like a banner of defiance. Her eyes never left Chronos's, a silent promise that she would not rest until time itself was restored to order. The battle raged on, a spectacle of light and shadow playing out in the heart of the city as the fate of everyone she knew and loved hung precariously in the balance.

Chronos, the corrupted god of time, took a malicious delight in the moment, its dark eyes glinting with victory as it shot forth a beam of condensed temporal energy. Sailor Pluto, ever the agile warrior, attempted to dodge the attack with a graceful leap.

But the beam, as if it had a mind of its own, curved and struck her squarely in the crotch. The Chronos's sadistic laughter filled the square as Sailor Pluto crumpled to the ground, the searing pain in her crotch causing stars to dance before her eyes.

A defeated goon, witnessing her momentary vulnerability, took the opportunity to scuttle away, his mission a failure but his survival instincts sharp as ever.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, Yeojin felt the weight of her dual lives threaten to crush her. But she knew she could not let this be the end. Drawing upon the deep reservoir of strength that had carried her through countless battles, she pushed herself back to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain. Her uniform clung to her body, slightly singed from the attack, but she was not broken—not yet.

Summoning the last of her strength, Sailor Pluto stood tall, her eyes blazing with the indomitable spirit of Pluto. With a battle cry that seemed to shake the very air, she raised her Garnet Rod and pointed it at the monstrous Chronos, the gem at its tip pulsing with a fiery light. The creature, surprised by her resilience, took a step back, its grin faltering. Yeojin knew this was her moment—her chance to reclaim the city's future. She whispered the words of her ultimate technique, "Dead Scream!"

The power of the attack was palpable, a sonic boom that sent shockwaves through the city. The beam of light shot forth from her Garnet Rod, a scream that seemed to rip through the fabric of time itself. Chronos bellowed in agony as the light engulfed it, the corruption writhing within it struggling to resist the purifying force of Pluto's power. The creature's body began to break apart, its form disintegrating into a maelstrom of shadow and time. With a final, desperate roar, Chronos was vanquished, the stolen moments of the city's time released in a burst of dazzling light that showered down like confetti upon the relieved citizens below.

As the dust settled and the square returned to a semblance of order, Sailor Pluto's form began to flicker. The strain of the battle had taken its toll, and she knew she had to retreat to the shadows once more. With a final glance at the scene of victory, she transformed back into Yeojin, her office attire reappearing as if by magic. She gathered her things and slipped away, her heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Her secret remained safe, her mission accomplished—for now.

///

In the bowels of the Time Snatchers' hidden lair, the shadowy figure known only as the Grand Maestro of Temporal Chaos seethed with rage. His screens flickered with the images of his monstrous creations being decimated by the pint-sized yet mighty Sailor Pluto.

"How could this be?" he roared, slamming his fist onto the control panel before him. His perfectly manicured nails left dents in the cold metal as he watched his meticulously laid plans crumble to dust. He had underestimated the girl with the crimson bow, and now his dream of controlling the flow of time lay in tatters. He vowed, his voice a sinister whisper, that he would not rest until he had uncovered the source of her power and claimed it for his own. The game was far from over, and Sailor Pluto had just earned herself an even more dangerous enemy.

The goon that had escaped the battlefield, nursing its bruised ego and a newfound respect for the pint-sized heroine, managed to limp its way back to the Time Snatchers' lair. It stumbled into the Grand Maestro's chamber, its breath ragged and eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Maestro," it rasped, "I have observed a weakness in our adversary, Sailor Pluto. She is not invincible!"

The Grand Maestro's eyes lit up with interest, his rage momentarily abating.

"Tell me," he hissed, his tone a mix of anticipation and malice.

The goon, eager to regain its master's favor, revealed what it had witnessed during the battle.

"Her crotch, my lord. It seems to be a... a... sensitive spot. When struck, she is momentarily incapacitated!"

The Grand Maestro's smile grew cold and calculating.

"Ah, so the keeper of time has a temporal Achilles' heel," he mused, stroking his chin.

"Very well, this knowledge shall not go to waste. Prepare my newest creation, one that will exploit this weakness and bring Sailor Pluto to her knees!"

With a renewed sense of purpose, the goon scurried away, eager to be part of the plot that would spell the heroine's downfall. The Grand Maestro's mind raced, already crafting the perfect monster to dethrone the guardian of time.

///

As Yeojin returned to her office, blending into the sea of cubicles, she remained blissfully unaware of the new peril lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike when she least expected it.

///

In the coming days, Sailor Pluto threw herself into the fray with unyielding determination. Each new monstrosity spawned by the Grand Maestro of Temporal Chaos was met with swift and decisive retribution. Yeojin's nights grew longer as she tirelessly patrolled the city, her Garnet Rod a constant reminder of the power she wielded and the responsibility it entailed. Despite the relentless onslaught, she emerged victorious time and time again, her spirit never faltering. Each battle was a testament to her unwavering dedication to her duty, a dance of light and shadow that she performed with the grace of a warrior and the heart of a guardian.

As Yeojin settled into her office chair, sipping on the lukewarm coffee that had become the lifeblood of her mundane workday, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The air in the city felt charged with an energy she hadn't sensed before—a sinister presence that seemed to coil around the very fabric of time itself. Her intuition, sharpened by countless battles, told her that the Time Snatchers had cooked up a new, more terrifying plot. That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, she felt the now-familiar transformation stir within her. Sailor Pluto's iconic outfit materialized around her, and she set off to face whatever horrors awaited.

The city streets grew darker as she approached the designated battleground, the Grand Maestro's latest monstrosity already causing havoc. This creature was unlike any she had faced before—its body a writhing mass of wet, eel-like tentacles that crackled with electricity, leaving trails of sizzling asphalt in its wake. The creature's eyes gleamed with a sickening intelligence as it surveyed the chaos, searching for the one who would dare to challenge it. Sailor Pluto's heart raced as she stepped forward, her Garnet Rod at the ready.

The creature's sly grin grew wider as it issued a guttural command to its minions, the goons eagerly rushing towards Sailor Pluto.

But instead of the usual barrage of fists and kicks, they aimed for her limbs, their cold, clammy hands reaching out to seize her. Yeojin's eyes widened in surprise, realizing that the Time Snatchers had indeed learned from her past battles. She danced away from their grasp, her movements swift and precise, her heart racing with the realization that she was in for a far more tactical battle this time.

Her back now to the monster, Sailor Pluto's instincts were on high alert. The creature's tentacles shot out like lightning, aiming for her limbs with a precision that spoke of the their newfound strategy. She spun and twirled, the crimson bow fluttering around her, as she narrowly avoided each electric embrace.

The monster's tentacles grew longer and more agile with each failed attempt, stretching out like the twisted arms of a giant octopus. Yeojin's eyes darted back and forth, searching for an opening, a weakness she could exploit.

The creature's grin grew wider, enjoying the cat-and-mouse game it had orchestrated. But she was Sailor Pluto, the guardian of the underworld, and she had faced down the jaws of defeat before. With a swift pivot, she ducked under a tentacle and rolled away, creating enough distance to regain her composure.

Before Sailor Pluto could fully recover her bearings, she found herself ensnared by the goons' tight grasp, their grip like iron around her arms and legs. Sailor Pluto knows she can escape their hold with her super strangth.

With a wicked chuckle, the creature took its shot, a tentacle lashing out with the speed of lightning to wrap around her most sensitive area. The tip of tentacle rubbing on her crotch.

Electricity surged through her, a white-hot agony that seemed to freeze time itself as she arched her back in pain. The goons' laughter grew louder, echoing through the square as they tightened their hold, eager to watch their foe suffer.

The electric tentacle's grip loosened, and with a gasp, Sailor Pluto collapsed face down onto the scorched pavement, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pain. The goons, cackling in triumph, released their ironclad hold, watching as she fought to push herself back up. Her limbs quivered, her usually steadfast resolve momentarily shaken.

The goons closed in, their twisted grins widening as they sensed her weakness. Sailor Pluto mustered every ounce of her will and swung a punch at the nearest goon, only to have her blow land with the strength of a feather's touch.

Her shock was palpable—the crotch attack had sapped her of her usual formidable might. She gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing with determination as she realized she would have to outsmart them if she was to survive.

As she tries to kick the approaching goon, her leg is caught in the vice-like grip of another, leaving her open to the creature's vile intentions. The monster's tentacle, still crackling with electricity, rears back for another strike at her crotch. Yeojin's eyes widen with horror as she feels the electricity surge through her once more, a pain so intense that it seems to pierce her very soul. The world around her begins to dim, the laughter of the goons and the chaos of the battle fading into a distant cacophony. Her body convulses, and she can feel the last of her strength draining away. The monster's grin widens in anticipation of her defeat, as the electricity courses through her veins, stealing her consciousness.

And just as the world goes dark, she feels herself being hoisted into the air by the tentacles, her body limp and powerless. The goons retreat, their victory assured. The Grand Maestro's laughter echoes through the square as Yeojin's unconscious form is carried away into the night, leaving behind only the fading whispers of a battle that had tested the very limits of her power.

///

Yeojin's eyes snapped open, the remnants of electric pain still crackling through her body as she took in her new surroundings. The air was thick with the scent of ozone, and she found herself hanging by her wrists, body standing above a cold, metallic floor. The goons from the battle swarmed around her, their twisted forms cackling and jeering. The Grand Maestro of Temporal Chaos loomed over her, a smug smile playing on his lips as he observed his captive prize. The room was dimly lit, with screens and control panels flickering with images of the city's distorted timeline—a twisted reflection of the chaos he had sown.

"I see you are awake now, little menace."

"Stop this right now you ugly creature! Release me before I end the lives of everyone in this room."

The Grand Maestro of Temporal Chaos chuckled at Sailor Pluto's defiant words, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic glee.

"Ah, so the mighty guardian of time is not as invincible as she believes. I have studied your battles, and I know where to strike to bring you to your knees."

He gestured to his goons, who approached Yeojin with gleeful anticipation, their twisted grins revealing their excitement at the prospect of causing her pain. One of them produced a device, a twisted mix of technology and dark magic that hummed with an unsettling energy.

"You will learn to fear me, Sailor Pluto," he sneered, "and when you do, when you are broken and begging for mercy, I will take your power and reshape the fabric of time to suit my whims!"

The device was brought closer, the air around it crackling with a dangerous electricity.

The goon lifted Sailor Pluto's skirt with a sneer, exposing her most sensitive area to the Grand Maestro's twisted invention. The device buzzed with malicious intent, its vibrations sending a wave of nauseating fear through Yeojin's body.

The device's vibrating shaft reached the edge of her panties, and Sailor Pluto could feel the electricity building up, ready to be unleashed upon her once more.

"AHHHHHHH"

Her scream pierced the air as the Grand Maestro's invention made contact with her most sensitive area, the pain beyond anything she had ever endured. Her body went rigid as the current surged through her, the very essence of her power being drawn out in a torrent of agony. The goons jeered, their eyes alight with sadistic pleasure at her suffering, and the Grand Maestro leaned in close, whispering sweet nothings about the fate of the city she had sworn to protect.

"All you have to do is to give me your source of power and you will be as free as a bird," the Grand Maestro tells her with his hand grabbing her chin.

Through gritted teeth, Sailor Pluto refused, "Never! I will never surrender the power that protects this city!"

"Very well"

The vibration intensity on the device increased rapidly, and Yeojin could do nothing but look up to the ceiling and let out a soul-wrenching scream.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she could feel the power of Sailor Pluto being ripped from her core with every pulse of electricity, leaving her weaker by the second. The Grand Maestro's laughter grew louder, feeding on her agony.

As the device's intensity grew, Yeojin could feel her body begin to convulse, the pain from the relentless crotch attacks growing unbearable. With a final, desperate cry, she felt her transformation slip away, leaving her in nothing but her underwear.

Her uniform lay in tatters around her, revealing her bra-covered, erect nipples and the damp, glistening fabric of her panties that clung to her exposed pussy lips. Her body was a canvas of sweat, a testament to her struggle and the sheer force of the Grand Maestro's power.

Her body trembled, and her breaths grew shallow, but she would not give in to his demands. The very essence of Sailor Pluto's power was being siphoned away, but her spirit remained unbroken, a beacon of hope in the face of overwhelming darkness.

The Grand Maestro's eyes gleamed with a newfound idea as he took in the sight of the weakened Yeojin. His smile grew broader, a twisted reflection of his sadistic intentions.

He knew that brute force had failed to break her, so he would have to employ a different tactic—one that would play upon her most primal fears and desires. The Grand Maestro had deduced that if pain alone could not make her submit, perhaps a more... intimate approach would be more effective.

The Grand Maestro stepped back, his eyes raking over Yeojin's exposed body with a hunger that was palpable. He leaned in close to her ear, his breath hot against her neck, and whispered,

"You are quite the captivating creature, aren't you, Sailor Pluto?" His tone had changed, the malice replaced with a syrupy sweetness that made her skin crawl.

"I can offer you a deal. If you pledge yourself to me, as my personal plaything, giving me all of your powers, I will not only spare your life but grant you unparalleled pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. You will be adored and pampered, your every need met, as long as you cooperate." His hand trailed down her spine, pausing at the small of her back before sliding around to cup her covered crotch.

The goons' laughter grew more frenzied, their eyes alight with the depraved joy of witnessing their leader's twisted seduction. Yeojin's heart raced, fear and anger warring within her as she felt his grip tighten around her. She knew she had to keep her wits about her if she was to survive this new form of attack.

Her voice trembled slightly, but she found the strength to spit out a vehement refusal.

"I will never betray my duty to protect this city. Release me now, or face my wrath!" The Grand Maestro chuckled, his grip loosening just enough to let her know that she was still in his power.

"We shall see," he said, his voice a dark promise that sent a shiver down her spine. "We shall see just how long you can resist the allure of the darkness before you embrace it willingly."

The Grand Maestro's goons, eager to please their leader, rushed forward to do his bidding. Two sets of rough hands reached up to cup Yeojin's bra-covered breasts, playing with her erect nipples through the fabric, eliciting gasps of pain and disgust from her.

Meanwhile, more hands grabbed and smacked her exposed asscheeks, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the chamber like a perverse symphony.

Another hand, cold and slimy, traced the outline of her pussy, the fabric of her underwear providing little barrier to the unwanted touch. Yeojin's eyes burned with a mix of anger and fear, her mind racing for a way to escape this degrading torment.

The Grand Maestro stepped back, watching the scene unfold with a twisted smile. He knew that the physical pain was just the beginning—his true weapon was the psychological warfare he was about to unleash upon her.

"Look at her," he taunted, "the great Sailor Pluto, reduced to a mere plaything for the amusement of the Time Snatchers."

Yeojin gritted her teeth, her body on fire with humiliation. She knew she had to find a way out of this nightmare before it was too late. As the goons continued their lewd assault, she searched for an opening, any weakness she could exploit. But with every touch, every smack, she felt herself slipping further into despair.

"Please, stop this!" she begged, her body squirming against the relentless assault of the goons.

The Grand Maestro's grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with victory as a goon's hand slipped into her underwear, the cold, wet digits brushing against her sensitive flesh. Despite her pleas, she couldn't help the involuntary moan that escaped her lips as the creature's touch grew bolder.

"Look at her," he gloated, "she's already beginning to crave it. Soon, she'll be begging for more."

"Get....out.....Mmfffgh.....No.....Don't!"

The goon's fingers delved deeper into Yeojin's pussy, eliciting a whimper of mixed pain and embarrassment from her lips. The Grand Maestro's eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched her body react to the unwanted intrusion, her wetness growing despite her protests.

Her panties clung to her now, the fabric darkening as she grew wetter with each invasive stroke. The goons' laughter grew more raucous, their excitement palpable as they reveled in her degradation.

With a Herculean effort fueled by her unyielding will, Yeojin managed to break free from the entanglement around her wrists and the goons' clutches. She pushed them away with a strength born of desperation, sending them sprawling across the metallic floor.

Gasping for breath and clutching at her bruised body, she sprinted towards a nearby door, her bare feet slapping against the cold surface. The goons scrambled to their feet, their leers twisted into snarls of frustration, but she was too fast.

Slamming the door shut behind her, she stumbled into a small, dimly lit chamber, her chest heaving as she searched for a means of escape. The room was sparse, with only a single chair and a control panel that pulsed with a sinister glow.

Before Yeojin could even consider her next move, a sudden sensation of cold and slimy grip encircled her wrists and ankles.

Her eyes widened in horror as she found herself ensnared by the tentacled monster that she fought before had emerged from the shadows, its elongated limbs wrapping around her with alarming strength. The creature's beady eyes bore into hers, a twisted grin stretching across its grotesque face.

She struggled and squirmed, her heart racing as she realized the Grand Maestro had been toying with her all along. The tentacles grew tighter, the pressure on her wrists and ankles increasing, forcing her to her knees.

The tentacled monster took advantage of her vulnerable position, sending another jolt of electricity directly into her body, centering on her pussy. Yeojin's body spasmed, her eyes rolling back as the agonizing current surged through her.

Despite her pleas for mercy, the creature's grin only widened, the sadistic glee in its eyes growing more intense with each jolt. Her body writhed in pain, her cries for help echoing through the cold, metallic chamber.

"Please.....Ah....No more....."

With a final, agonizing pulse of electricity, Yeojin felt the last vestiges of her Sailor Pluto transformation leave her.

Her underwear disintegrated, leaving her fully exposed and vulnerable in the tentacled creature's grasp. Her body spasmed one final time before going limp, the pain too much for her to bear.

The goons' eyes bulged with excitement as they took in the sight of her naked form, the Grand Maestro's plans having stripped away her last shred of dignity along with her powers.

She laid down after being released, panting and trembling, her breasts heaving with each desperate gasp for air. The cold, metallic floor was a stark contrast to the warm, sticky wetness between her legs, a testament to the monster's relentless assault.

The Grand Maestro leaned over her, his twisted smile never leaving his face as he offered one last ultimatum. "Your choice, Sailor Pluto—surrender your power, or suffer an eternity of torment at the hands of my minions."

Yeojin's chest heaved with exertion, her eyes brimming with determination despite the agony etched into her features.

"No.....you cannot.....bring me....down."

She weakly yet firmly shook her head, her sweat-drenched hair sticking to her face. The beads of perspiration trickled down her neck, carving a path between her breasts, pooling in her cleavage.

"You leave me with no choice, Sailor Pluto."

The Grand Maestro's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with victory as two of his goons grabbed Yeojin's arms, hoisting her weakened body into a kneeling position. Her legs trembled, her knees shake from the relentless assault but she managed to keep herself upright.

The Grand Maestro reached into the folds of his cloak and revealed his monstrous, pulsating cock, the size of which was incomparable to any human's.

Yeojin's eyes bulged with fear, unable to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the horror before her. It was a weapon of nightmares, a tool of violation and submission that seemed to beckon to the very core of her being.

The goons' held her in place, their grip tightening around her arms, ensuring she had no escape from the Grand Maestro's depraved intentions.

The creature's cock grew larger still, a grotesque display of power that seemed to feed on her terror. Yeojin gulped, her heart racing as she stared at the obscene appendage, her mind racing for any way to resist the fate that seemed to await her.

The Grand Maestro leaned in closer, his monstrous cock a mere inch from her face.

"Open your mouth," he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

"No!" Yeojin's eyes widened with horror, and she turned her face away, her jaw clenched shut.

Without warning, the two goons holding her arms leaned in, prying open her mouth with their fingers. Yeojin's eyes snapped open, her scream of protest muffled as the Grand Maestro's cock was shoved deep into her throat.

She gagged and choked, her eyes watering as she struggled against the intrusion. The creature's grip on her face was unyielding, his hips bucking forward with each thrust, pushing her to her limits.

"Aughhh...Mmmff.....Gleurghh!"

It took several painstaking moments for the Grand Maestro's massive, pulsing cock to be fully sheathed within Yeojin's delicate throat. Her eyes watered and bulged with the effort of taking in the monstrous girth, her cheeks hollowed as she struggled for air around the intrusion.

Her throat muscles convulsed around the shaft, a silent protest against the violation, as the creature's head tilted back in ecstasy at the feeling of her tight warmth surrounding him.

Each thrust brought forth a muffled gagging sound that only served to spur him on, the obscene outline of his cock clearly visible as it vanished into her throat. Yeojin's body trembled with each deep penetration, her legs threatening to give way beneath her as she fought to keep herself upright.

"Yes, take it all in, little slut."

Her eyes rolled back, the whites showing as she struggled to maintain her consciousness amidst the relentless onslaught of the Grand Maestro's monstrous cock. Saliva cascaded down her chin, leaving a wet trail that pooled at her neckline before trickling down to her heaving breasts.

When he finally withdrew from her throat, she gasped for air, her chest heaving with the desperate need to breathe. Her vision swam, and she felt a tear escape the corner of her eye, trailing down her cheek to mingle with the saliva and sweat that coated her face.

The Grand Maestro's eyes gleamed with a twisted mix of pleasure and triumph, his cock glistening with her saliva. He leaned in closer, his hot breath against her ear.

"You see, you do crave the darkness. Embrace it, Sailor Pluto, and perhaps I'll make your existence pleasurable."

Yeojin's resolve shone through her tear-stained eyes as she choked out a firm, "N-Never!"

Despite her weakened state, she gathered every ounce of her will and shoved back at the Grand Maestro's chest, her voice a testament to her unbreakable spirit. However, her resistance only served to fuel his anger.

With a snarl, he pushed her back onto the cold, hard floor, his tentacled creature holding her legs in place as he positioned himself between her trembling legs. The goons watched with rapt attention, their own malicious desires reflected in their twisted expressions. Yeojin's legs were forced apart, the Grand Maestro's massive cock poised at her entrance, ready to claim victory over her body and soul.

"W-wait, don't!"

With a snarl of fury, the Grand Maestro ignored Yeojin's desperate pleas and thrust his monstrous cock into her tight, unyielding pussy. Yeojin's eyes widened in agony as she was stretched to her limits, the pain unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands as she clenched her fists, trying to find any purchase in the cold, unforgiving floor beneath her. The creature's tentacles tightened around her ankles, holding her in place as the Grand Maestro claimed her, inch by agonizing inch.

"Ah!..Ah!..geugh...ah...n-no stop i-it!"

Her screams of pain and defiance filled the chamber, echoing off the metallic walls, a stark contrast to the gleeful cheers of the goons that watched on. The Grand Maestro's hips moved with a brutal rhythm, each thrust driving home the reality of her newfound captivity.

"Let see if you can handle all of this, Sailor Pluto!"

Yeojin's head fell back with a mix of pain and a surprising, unwanted pleasure as the Grand Maestro's monstrous cock invaded her with each punishing thrust. Her eyes rolled upwards, the ceiling spinning as the intense sensations overwhelmed her.

"Ohh...fuck! Pull t-that monster o-out!"

Despite her fierce will to resist, she couldn't help the low, guttural moan that slipped from her throat with every brutal penetration.

His palms found her breasts, squeezing and kneading them without mercy, the harsh bounce only serving to heighten his pleasure. The room was filled with the obscene sounds of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh, a symphony of violation.

Her body, usually a bastion of strength and grace, now trembled and convulsed beneath his, her Sailor Pluto uniform discarded and forgotten.

Her thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of agony and degradation, the once stoic guardian of time now reduced to a writhing, moaning plaything for her enemy's sick desires.

The tentacles held her tight, their grip unyielding as he pounded into her with a ferocity that seemed to defy the very laws of the universe she was sworn to protect.

The Grand Maestro's eyes gleamed with perverse triumph as he noticed Yeojin's eyes crossing and her pussy clenching around his monstrous cock, a clear sign she was approaching climax. His thrusts grew more frenzied, driving into her with a speed that seemed to defy the very fabric of time itself.

Yeojin's cries grew louder, echoing through the chamber like a siren's call, her body a canvas of pain and unwanted pleasure. Each powerful thrust sent waves of agony and ecstasy crashing through her, her mind struggling to reconcile the two as she felt herself inexorably drawn closer to the brink.

Despite her desperate attempts to maintain control, her body began to betray her, her moans growing more wanton, her hips bucking up to meet the Grand Maestro's punishing rhythm. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold back the tide of pleasure threatening to overwhelm her.

Yeojin's mind was a tumult of conflicting emotions.

"Why...why does it feel so...good?" she thought to herself, her body involuntarily responding to the brutal invasion with a betrayal of pleasure. The thought of enjoying this violation sent a fresh wave of despair crashing through her.

She was Sailor Pluto, a guardian of justice and purity—how could she find any solace in such depravity? Her mind screamed for it to stop, yet her body seemed to crave the very thing she detested. Her thoughts grew hazy, the line between agony and ecstasy blurring until it was almost indistinguishable.

"No...no, this can't be right," she whispered to herself, her voice lost in the cacophony of her own moans.

The Grand Maestro's grin grew wider with each passing second, his eyes gleaming with victory as he watched Yeojin's resolve crumble. He knew that he had found her weakness—the dark, carnally base desires that lay dormant within even the purest of hearts.

"Surrender to the pleasure, Sailor Pluto," he taunted, his voice a seductive purr that seemed to resonate through her very soul.

Yeojin bit her lower lip, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to fight the inescapable truth. The pleasure was overwhelming, a crescendo building within her that she knew would soon shatter her. Her body trembled and arched off the floor with every deep, powerful thrust, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm of his depravity.

"I...I can't...I won't!" she protested through gritted teeth, her voice strained with the effort to maintain her sanity.

But the crisis within her grew more intense with each passing moment, the pleasure threatening to consume her entirely. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her body moving in time with the Grand Maestro's vile dance.

"Oh...god...no!" she screamed internally, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of resistance and capitulation.

With a final, guttural scream, Yeojin's body betrayed her, succumbing to the Grand Maestro's twisted seduction. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, her orgasm ripping through her like a tempest. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she threw her head back, her long hair a wild mess around her. Her entire body quivered and writhed in the throes of ecstasy, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The Grand Maestro, grinning triumphantly, withdrew from her, allowing her to ride the waves of pleasure that crashed through her.

The tentacles released their hold, and Yeojin's limbs fell limp to the floor, her body shaking uncontrollably as she succumbed to the intense climax that had been wrung from her. Her sweat-soaked skin glistened in the harsh, cold light of the chamber, each tremor sending droplets flying in every direction. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes, though still not open fully, bore the marks of her defeat.

"Get up you pathetic whore."

The Grand Maestro's triumphant laughter echoed through the chamber as he lifted Yeojin's limp form off the ground and placed her onto his broad, muscular chest as he laid down. She felt the coldness of the floor leave her body as she was positioned atop the creature, his monstrous cock still erect and demanding. Her legs were spread wide, and she could feel the sticky warmth of her own juices mingling with the creature's precum, creating a slick mess that made her stomach turn. Her mind racing as she tried to find the will to resist. But the relentless pounding she had endured had taken its toll, and she was barely able to hold herself upright.

The creature's hands found her hips, guiding her into a rhythm she knew all too well. Yeojin's body, still reeling from the intense orgasm, had little fight left in it. Her hand willingly reinsert his cock to its awaiting prize. Her legs began to move almost of their own accord, her pussy sliding up and down his thick, pulsing shaft. His grip on her hips tightening as he felt her body begin to respond to his touch once more. Despite her protests, her hips rocked back and forth, her movements growing more urgent as she felt the beginnings of another climax building within her.

"Look at you, Sailor Pluto," he sneered, his voice thick with lust. "So eager to be filled with my darkness."

Yeojin's eyes snapped open, her teeth clenched in anger. The humiliation of being used so thoroughly was almost too much to bear. Yet, she couldn't deny the traitorous pleasure that washed over her as she rode his monstrous cock. Her breasts bobbed with each movement, her nipples hard and sensitive to the cold air. Her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as she heard the goons' lewd comments and felt their eyes on her.

With a snarl, she tried to push herself away from the creature, but his grip was too strong. Instead, she found herself grinding down on him, her pussy clenching around his cock as she sought to regain some semblance of control. The Grand Maestro's eyes widened in shock and pleasure, his hips bucking up to meet hers.

"Come my minions. Get a taste of her for yourselves."

Her eyes widened in horror as two of the goons stepped forward, each grabbing one of her wrists and forcing her hands to wrap around their grotesque, pulsing members. Their skin felt like a twisted mockery of flesh, cold and slimy, and Yeojin had to fight back the bile rising in her throat. Despite her struggles, they held her firm, their grips unyielding as she was made to pleasure them.

Meanwhile, another goon approached, his tentacle-like appendage slithering towards her mouth, eager to rejoin the depraved orchestra of her degradation. The Grand Maestro's chuckles grew louder as he watched his minions claim their spoils from the defeated heroine. Yeojin's mind raced, searching for a way to escape, but her body remained a prison to the overwhelming pleasure that still lingered from her recent climax. She could feel their excitement growing with each stroke of her hand, each bob of her head, their eyes burning with a sick, twisted lust.

The tentacle monster, driven wild by the sight of Sailor Pluto's degradation, eagerly approached her exposed and vulnerable form. Its tentacles coiled and twitched with a newfound purpose, forming a massive, throbbing phallus that aimed straight for Yeojin's trembling asshole. Despite her fierce resistance, the creature's overwhelming desire could not be denied.

The Grand Maestro's grip on her hips tightened, holding her in place as the tentacles slithered closer to her tight, puckered hole. Yeojin's eyes widened in horror as she felt the cold, slimy appendage brush against her sensitive skin, the reality of the impending violation sending a shiver down her spine. Her struggles grew more desperate, her body tense with fear and disgust, but she was no match for the monster's inhuman strength.

The tentacle began to probe her asshole, its tip slick with a strange, oily substance that seemed to ease its passage despite the initial resistance. Yeojin's breath hitched as she felt the monster's phallus pushing against her tight sphincter, her mind screaming in protest. But as much as she fought, her body had been pushed to its limits, and she was unable to resist the inevitable.

With a sickening pop, the tentacle breached her, sending a wave of pain and unwanted pleasure through her body. The creature's tentacles wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as it began to thrust into her, the Grand Maestro's cock still filling her pussy.

"AHHH FUCK! IT'S TOO MUCH!"

Yeojin's screams of anguish and humiliation filled the chamber, a cacophony of despair that seemed to fuel the goons' depraved lust.

At the brink of the session, the Grand Maestro's watched his minions take turns with the defeated Sailor Pluto, her body a playground for their twisted desires. Yeojin, her resolve wavering, was passed around like a prize, her mouth forced onto one cock after another, the taste of them mingling with her own tears and sweat. Her pussy, already raw and tender, was at one time, stretched to accommodate two of the goons at once, their grunts of pleasure mingling with her cries of pain. The tentacle monster had moved on, leaving her asshole gaping and sensitive, only for it to be filled by the thick, pulsing cock of another goon.

The Grand Maestro, basking in his victory, continued to pound into Sailor Pluto's ravaged pussy, her small body a limp ragdoll in his arms, her legs and arms wrapped around his waist and neck. His minions had finished their perverse ritual, their cum painting Yeojin's face and body in a vile tableau of conquest. Her moans had transformed from those of resistance to a symphony of carnality, her body no longer able to differentiate between pain and pleasure.

Each thrust from the Grand Maestro sent a fresh wave of liquid fire through her, her orgasms now a never-ending cascade of sensation that obliterated all thought and reason. Her eyes, once filled with determination and righteous fury, were now glazed over with a mix of pleasure and despair. The creature's monstrous cock filled her completely, his movements growing erratic as he approached his climax. Yeojin's body shuddered and spasmed around him, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Despite the horror of her situation, she could feel her body responding to the brutal violation, her pussy clenching and unclenching around his thick shaft like a vice.

"Here it comes! Take it all in your tiny tight pussy!"

With a triumphant roar, the Grand Maestro's cock swelled and erupted within Sailor Pluto, filling her to the brim with his hot, potent seed. Yeojin's body convulsed as she was claimed by the monster, her orgasm tearing through her like a supernova, leaving her trembling and spent in his arms.

Sailor Pluto's limp body was unceremoniously tossed onto the cold, stone floor of the chamber, a pitiful sight amidst the detritus of the battle she had so valiantly fought. The Grand Maestro's semen pooled and flowed out of her, mingling with the remnants of her own juices and the cum of his minions that had been forced into her earlier.

Her eyes stares blankly, a single tear escaping to trace a sad path down her cheek. Occasional twitches rippled through her form as the aftershocks of her numerous orgasms continued to plague her, a silent testament to the overstimulation she had suffered. The goons stepped back, panting and sated, their grotesque forms basking in the glow of their victory over the once-mighty guardian of time.

Her transformation rod appeared out of thin air and clattered to the ground beside her, a stark reminder of the power she had once wielded. The Garnet Rod, now a simple, innocuous object, seemed to mock her with its presence. Her body, still quivering from the relentless onslaught of pleasure and pain, could no longer contain the essence of her guardian form. The symbol of Pluto's power had been forced from her, a silent surrender to the Grand Maestro's dominance. The room grew still as the creature loomed over her, his monstrous cock still erect, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Yeojin knew that she had lost more than just a battle; she had lost a piece of herself to the dark embrace of temporal chaos.

///

A week had passed since Sailor Pluto's defeat, and the city was a shadow of its former self. The once bustling metropolis had descended into a cacophony of fear and confusion as the Time Snatchers' influence grew unchecked. The citizens walked the streets with their heads down, the joy and vitality that had once characterized their lives now replaced with a palpable dread. The absence of the heroine who had sworn to protect them was felt in every tick of the clock and every racing heartbeat that echoed through the city's veins.

In the dimly lit chamber of the Time Snatchers' lair, Yeojin, once the mighty Sailor Pluto, knelt before the line of grinning goons. Her mind, once a bastion of resolve and duty, now for the darkest of desires, had been irrevocably corrupted. Her lips, once a symbol of righteousness, were now a vessel for the perverse satisfaction of her captors. Each goon stepped forward, presenting their erect members to her with a lewd smirk.

Yeojin's eyes, now devoid of the fiery determination that had once been their hallmark, flickered with a mix of submission and despair as she took the next cock into her mouth. Her tongue danced around the swollen heads, tasting the vile flavor of their malicious intent, as the Grand Maestro watched on with a smug smile. Her body had become a mere instrument for their depravity, her will shackled by the very essence of temporal chaos that she had once vowed to combat. The room was filled with the sickening sounds of her gagging and slurping, her cheeks hollowing with each forced deep-throat, as she served the very beings she had sworn to vanquish. The stench of sweat and cum lingered in the stale air, a constant reminder of her degradation.

Her eyes, once a deep blue reflecting the power of Pluto, now clouded with a mix of need and despair, searched for the Grand Maestro's approval. As she noticed him standing there, watching with a cruel smile, she crawled over to him, her movements animalistic and submissive.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely, her voice a mere shadow of its former authority, "I need Master to fill me up."

The Grand Maestro's grin grew wider, his monstrous cock twitching in anticipation. Yeojin looked up at him with a pleading gaze, her own hands moving to spread her ass cheeks apart, offering herself up to him completely.

"Fuck me," she begged, her voice cracking with the weight of her own degradation. "I want Master's cock in my ass."

The creature's eyes gleamed with dark pleasure at her words. He stepped closer, his cock now coated in the cum of his minions, a vile symbol of their collective victory over her.

"You shall have what you wish," he said, his voice low and rumbling. "But remember, Sailor Pluto, you are no longer a heroine. You are merely our plaything, to be used and discarded as we see fit."

With a cruel twist of his hand, he inserted a finger into her gaping asshole, causing Yeojin to gasp. He watched her reaction with amusement, enjoying her whimpers of pain and pleasure. Then, without warning, he plunged his thick cock into her, the force of his thrust making her cry out. The room was filled with the sickening sound of flesh slapping against flesh as he began to fuck her hard, his movements punctuated by her desperate cries for more.

The goons, their lust rekindled by the sight of their leader claiming Sailor Pluto, began to stroke their own cocks once more, eager for their turn to violate the heroine who had once stood tall against them. Yeojin, lost to the endless cycle of pain and pleasure, could only whimper and moan, her mind a haze of submission and despair. The Grand Maestro's thrusts grew more intense, his eyes locked onto hers, boring into her soul.

"Fuck me harder! Fill me with your cum! Make me your bitch, Master!"

The Grand Maestro's grip on her hips tightened, his pace increasing as he approached his climax. Yeojin could feel her own orgasm building again, the relentless waves of pleasure threatening to consume her. The room swam around her, the boundaries between her two lives blurring into one dark, twisted reality.

As the Grand Maestro finally came, filling her ass with his thick, hot seed, Yeojin collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling from the sheer intensity of the experience. The goons stepped closer, eager to continue her corruption, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent. And through it all, Yeojin smiles. She knew that she was no longer the protector of time; she was now its prisoner, forever bound to the whims of the Time Snatchers.