#take care of yourself and get off the Internet

[pucksandpower]

Rumour Has It

Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader

Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality

“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.

You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”

Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!

You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”

“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”

You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”

Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”

“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”

Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”

“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?

“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.

Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”

You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”

“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.

“Out with it, Noora.”

She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”

“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”

“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”

Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”

She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”

“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”

“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”

Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”

“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”

She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.

“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”

You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.

“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”

Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”

You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”

“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”

“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”

You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”

Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”

“How, exactly?”

“It could be real.”

***

Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.

He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”

Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”

“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”

Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!

His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”

“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”

Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”

He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”

“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”

He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”

“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”

Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”

“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”

Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.

Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.

“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”

Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”

He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”

“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”

Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”

“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”

“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”

He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”

Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”

Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.

“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”

He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”

“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”

Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”

She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”

He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”

But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.

***

The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.

You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.

Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.

“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.

You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”

He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”

You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.

Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.

Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”

Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”

“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”

Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”

Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”

Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”

You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”

He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”

You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”

“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”

“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”

“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”

He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”

He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”

You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”

“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”

There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.

“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”

He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”

Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”

You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”

There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.

“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”

Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”

Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.

You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”

Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”

“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”

You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”

“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.

Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”

He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”

Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”

Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”

You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”

“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”

You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”

He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.

Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.

Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.

“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”

You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.

“Until next time, Your Highness.”

***

The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.

The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.

Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”

You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.

“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”

You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”

He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”

You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”

“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”

You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”

He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.

“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”

His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”

“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”

You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”

“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”

“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”

“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”

You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”

“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.

You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”

“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”

You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.

You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”

“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.

“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”

You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”

“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.

“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.

He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”

Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.

“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”

He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.

The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.

You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.

“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.

He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.

But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.

The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.

***

francolapinto

Liked by f1wagupdates, royalwatchers, and 714,925 others

francolapinto all the rumours are true

View all 3,816 comments

pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!

coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess

pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz

coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again

f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏

gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint

f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?

***

The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.

Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”

You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”

The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”

Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.

He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”

“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.

Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”

Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.

As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.

“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”

“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”

Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”

One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”

Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”

“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.

“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”

You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.

“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”

Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”

Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.

“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”

Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”

Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.

Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”

“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”

Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”

“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”

Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”

Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”

Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.

Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”

Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”

Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”

The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.

“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.

Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”

He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”

You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.

“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”

Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.

Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.

***

The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.

Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”

Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”

Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”

Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”

Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”

Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”

Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”

Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”

For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.

It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.

Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.

He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”

Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”

Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”

“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”

Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”

Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”

The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.

Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”

Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”

“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”

“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”

“Didn’t go well, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”

Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”

Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”

Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”

The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”

[beseeingyouinmydreams]

Something that still bothers me… everyone’s so hung up on Liam’s Recent life and the last few years months or days … he didn’t just take up drugs and alcohol and bad decisions recently. No one cares what pushed him to the place he was recently. So nothing will come from his passing. Something good can come from this if people switch thoughts to how did he get to this place. He was admittedly clean and long term clean in 2018 i believe. He was in a great place. My point is when people go through terrible shit in life check in on them, be a source for people. He had people all over the globe he seemingly checked on regularly but it doesn’t seem anyone was truly checking in on him. Everyone in his damn life wanted something from him and setback after setback on top of trauma he was constantly feeling from One D days combined with being torn to fckn shreds on the internet for years will destroy a person internally regardless of what they’re doing on the outside. I HATE that he was closed off and didnt have people he really trusted to open up with often enough to release some of what was pent up internally. Therapy and rx drugs don’t make problems go away sure they can help but if you don’t have support around you,you can consider yourself fckd. We as a society are pushed to the brink in our daily lives but compassion and kindness observing people and actually caring about them could truly change the landscape around mental health. His problems didn’t just start recently he was left alone in his mind for far too long with yes people surrounding him wanting what they could get from him. His death should honestly be a cautionary tale in all forms of the entertainment industry. It’s unreal to me that he’s even dead, that it got as far as it did.

[apollolovesu]

stay strong chat and drink water or I'll fucking GET YOU

[sirenium]

'If you're doom scrolling this tag-' shut up. Get out of the tag that you, yourself detest, block it, and move on. You're helping nobody with these corny ass posts; if anything you're exposing yourself to the very thing you hate. You're triggering yourself. And if you doom scroll, get out of the tag and block it. It's that simple.

[peapod20001]

Did sleeping help

No </3

[gizdathemxel]

so twomad died while I do not think he is a good person nor I do think he should be celebrated that’s honestly kind of a scary death to me. scary because as a black person w mental health issues and issues w social media, i often worry about spiraling and things like that. like a bit of giz lore but back when i was active on edeetwt (which is why i have pr04n4 content blocked teehee) I was only on Twitter for abt 4 months yet i had over 3-4K tweets. I was a severely lonely, insecure and isolated kid (since i was 15-6 then) and i fell into the rabbit hole of social media bc it was the closest thing i had to genuine human connection. and it made everything so much fucking worse. even though i (can confidently say) have grown from this, there are still echoes of the kind of person i used to be in my life. i still find myself being addicted to social media (though I try to take breaks and once did a one month stint off tiktok!!). i still find it hard to communicate and interact with people bc those feelings from that time are still in the back of y mind.

now PLEASE don’t get me wrong, I have never harassed, assaulted or threatened anyone, or done anything twomad has. Worst thing ive ever done in that era was like purge, and listen to yagami yato unironically. but what scares me is that i COULD spiral like that. I COULD become the kind of person that repeatedly hurts others and finds no fault within themselves. I COULD literally die and no one would give two shits about it until my corpse started inconveniencing them because I wasted my life being an awful irredeemable human being. And that’s literally my worst fear.

but honestly thank god that I’ve got loving family and friends who see me and care abt me. Thank god I can actually give enough of a shit abt myself to realize when I’m hurting myself. Thank god I’ve got my life of art and fashion and culture and learning and the world at large to keep me going. Thank god that I don’t want to leave this planet knowing that I didn’t do anything to help anyone in need.

[spacecatdet]

Guys, please, polls aren't that deep. They are the end all be all and pop up every month. Please do yourself a favor and take a break if they are affecting you They are meant to be silly and fun. So what if one ship you like doesn't win, that doesn't mean anything. Just means more ships exist and the fandom is growing, and we should celebrate that. Not get mad, fight, hold stuff, threaten, etc. over them okay? Have fun, be silly, enjoy your blorbos Remember, you can mute works/tags and just block things and post if you have xkit. Which is a real lifesaver Relax, go to your favorite blog and maybe share some ideas/aus/fun stuff and have a good time instead!

[littencloud9]

//

[salemlunaa]

VOID STATE: LAZINESS IS A DISEASE, GET WELL SOON 🧸

get your ass up and get your dream life

*mild tough love because some of you need this*

so alot of people go on about how they procrastinate the void and shifting to their new reality because of fear. but alot of you do not want or care to admit that , you’re just too fucking lazy. And to that i say seriously?? You know that you can have ANYTHING, absolutely ANYTHING and EVERYTHING you dream of, with just a trip to the void state and yet you hold it off. “I’ll do it tonight” you say, even though the most groundbreaking thing you have done today was scrolling through your phone on this app and others (which is time that could have been spent tapping in). You torture yourself scrolling through tiktok and instagram, looking at others from afar with jealousy wishing you had their lives. You add posts into your favourites telling yourself “i’ll have that life someday”, “i’ll have that body soon”, “when i shift i’ll be as pretty as her” (when you could literally have all that and better RIGHT NOW) You insert yourself in different narratives, shows and groups you wish you were apart of, when you could literally shift to a reality where you are there.

you don’t have to look at them with jealousy

you dont have to get upset about your shitty life

you don’t have to imagine

you don’t have to want for anything

you don’t have to yearn, long, desire

it can be yours, if i’m honest you should be more excited about this, scripting anything you could ever possibly dream of, even the little details, and they could be YOURS. you should start being so much more excited about this, about your dream life, like seriously. And that excitement about having everything should motivate you to tap in. Instead your lazy ass has adopted a loser mentality, doing absolutely nothing all day telling yourself you’ll “try at night” and when you don’t get in you repeat the cycle. You abandon responsibilities telling yourself it doesn’t matter because “youre gonna shift anyways”, and you don’t even put in the actual effort. It’s a very dangerous cycle to go down and you can go from moving round that cycle once to doing it 30 times and before you know it you’ve spent a month in this rut.

you don’t have to wait until the night and you know that so don’t give me bullshit. Take those limiting beliefs away and do it at any time of day when you get the chance.

Do you know how lucky you are to even have the access to learn about this shit. There are probably so many people much more disciplined than you, that would do so much with this information, who don’t even have access to the internet or any outside resources to even reach this sort of information and you’re fucking wasting your days lurking on this app. doing what? And it’s sad because, this community is so small meaning you are here for a reason my love, all that shit you went through and didn’t deserve, you looked at it all and knew there was more out there for you, knew that you were deserving of more. And i’ll be dammed if your lazy ass ruins it for yourself.

You have overcomplicated the void so much to the point where you’re scared to “fail” and “let yourself down” so you put it off and say you’ll “do it later”. Now remember, you cannot fail the void, you cannot fail something that is inside you, something that IS you. What you fail to do is stand firm in the fact that you’re a god and can do anything, everything is easy for you so get off your ass and go shift.

i just HAD to 🤭 @smellofemale

you deserve everything, and you CAN, in fact, have it all. JUST DO IT 🥥💋

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

[churipu]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. sukuna wanted a son, but got a daughter instead (he's smitten for her shh), sukuna is modern af bye he knows how to use a phone ok, reader is called "wife", ooc sukuna bye

note. ok listen, i've been having a girl dad sukuna brainrot lately. and i even gave out a req to @rrairey (u go check out her works rn) — but i just had to write something about girl dad sukuna jsjdksjks it's on my mind 25/8 and i can't stop unless i actually write abt him (i'm lying, he's still going to be in my mind bye).

girl dad! sukuna who initially wanted a son but when he finds out he's going to be having a daughter instead, he didn't know how to feel. he thought that if he had a son, he could at least play "rough" with him. it's sukuna, he doesn't know what soft is.

girl dad! sukuna who has to secretly watch tutorial videos on the most random thing like "how to play nicely with your daughter" or "how to be nice to your daughter". but also searches up for things like "easy hairstyles to give your daughter for beginners", when your daughter isn't even born yet.

girl dad! sukuna who hates to admit it but he's pretty worried about having a daughter. finally shoves his ego down his throat and comes up to you to talk about it, and you encouraged that he's going to be a good father — but still, he's worried.

"ryo, you're worried about what exactly?" you asked the male, brushing his hair.

"not being a good father." he replies, leaning into your touch with a big frown on his face, grumbling under his breath slightly about how embarrassed he is to be so fragile in front of his own wife.

"baby, you're going to be the best father."

although your words were supposed to be encouraging, and he did feel a bit of burden lift off of his shoulders — the male still couldn't help but to worry about his unborn daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who complains about your pregnancy cravings and how his daughter is a weird baby. despite that, he will go out of his way to get you what you wanted, not caring if it was two in the morning, or five in the morning. he will get it for you and your growing daughter inside your belly.

girl dad! sukuna who grows anxious when your due date was inching closer. he took a break off from work and devoted his time to look after you, especially since you were walking for two right now. even if you did tell your husband that you were fine — he still thinks it's his job to look after you and your daughter.

"damn it brat, stop moving so much. you'll hurt yourself," he gently tugs on your arm, directing you to the couch, "what'dya want?"

"sausages and blueberry jam . . ." you tell him nonchalantly, missing the look of disgust on his face.

". . . just stay there." he walks a few steps before turning back, "don't move."

girl dad! sukuna who watches labor videos only to focus on the husbands and what they were doing in it so he could try to take notes and searches for what he should get ready for labor, or if he could do anything as a husband for his wife during labor. the results didn't ease his worries — they added up his worries. like adding fuel to the fire, the internet tells him that giving birth was the second most painful thing after getting burned alive.

girl dad! sukuna who already thought of names for your daughter and even buys things for her. telling you that he'd be out to grab a few things and then coming back with a crib set, toys, or even a baby walker. he even got a baby strap for both you and him to use, picking out the most random motives like skulls and fires.

"ryo, why did you pick that motive?" you asked, eyeing the baby strap that had white skulls all over.

"our daughter will like that. i know it." he retorts.

girl dad! sukuna who looked as calm as a cucumber but internally panics the most when your water broke. he grabs the bag that he had packed, following a youtube tutorial and helped you get into the car so that the both of you can finally drive off to the hospital. he holds your hand tightly along the way, showing his worry as he "tries" to follow driving laws (which he ended up driving past the speed limit and had to get a ticket in the hospital).

girl dad! sukuna who had to pay a ticket as you were tended in a hospital room (you didn't know about this and he didn't tell you about it so you won't worry). the doctor telling both you and him that the labor procedure will have to wait up to a few hours as they proceeded with "watchful waiting" after they checked on the baby's condition and yours so they could see if it was safe for you to give birth normally.

girl dad! sukuna who waited those long hours with you as you laid on the bed, telling him how nervous you are. and all the bad possibilities that could happen (he searched that up too), he tells you to stop saying those kind of things. sukuna wasn't angry — he just didn't want you to stress so much, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you. he didn't let go until the doctor came back to finally do something.

girl dad! sukuna who was inside the delivery room with you, even after telling you that he won't come inside a few months ago. holds onto your hand (which you were holding onto tightly as the procedure goes on for hours), he winces — but he didn't care about his hand right now, he only cares about you and his daughter. brushing your hair lightly, mumbling out hushed praises to you (unknowingly, it just comes out), wipes away your sweat with his bare fingers and pressing kisses onto your face every single time he feels your hand clenching around his.

"jus' a bit more, pretty." he whispers, kissing your knuckles multiple times before moving on to kiss your forehead, "a bit more."

girl dad! sukuna who almost bursts into tears when he heard the loud cry of your daughter, but blinked his tears back. peering slightly at your worn out face. he tells you how he's proud of you (spoiler: he hates it if you reminded him about it in the future).

"y'hear that? you did so good, pretty. 'm proud of you," he clung onto your hand, grazing his thumb over your forehead as a smile adorned his face, "she's here, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who couldn't hold his tears back when the nurse suggested skin-to-skin contact with the father. he wasted no time tugging his shirt off to hold his little bundle of joy, nestling her in his arms — unknowingly letting a few stray tears of joy out as he coos down to his newborn daughter.

"oh, you're so pretty, little one." he cradled her gently against his bulky arms, sniffling softly. he was so gentle — different from how he used to be, his eyes soft and watery as he affectionately stares down at his now sleeping daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who slept on a chair by your bed when the doctor told you that you'll be allowed to go home once your body is fit again, he didn't care that he didn't have a bed to lie on. he was just there, prepped in a chair as his fingertips touched your wrist near the IV injection on the back of your hand. making sure he didn't touch the transparent hose. and his eyes darted back and forth from your resting form and his daughter who was now all warm and bundled up inside a bassinet. making sure that the both of you are resting well even if he was barely able to open his eyes fully.

girl dad! sukuna who carried all your bags and your daughter's car seat with ease while leading you down the hospital hallways and to the car. helping you buckle your seatbelt and making sure that his daughter is going to be safe and sound during the ride home, prepping up the car seat like he learned, giving his daughter a light kiss on her head before closing the door.

girl dad! sukuna who tells you to rely on him every time his daughter wakes up in the middle of the night — he won't let you get up, gently tugging you down onto the bed and tucking you underneath the covers before leaving to tend your daughter without any other words. as if his daughter is the most fragile thing in the world, he carries her into his arms and hushed her softly, nuzzling his nose onto her head, trying to get her back to sleep.

"shh, baby, mama's tired right now . . . go back to bed." he whispers, kissing her small forehead.

girl dad! sukuna who offered to shower your baby for the first time after two weeks upon arriving back home (under your watch of course), as you filled the bathinette with warm water — sukuna was cradling her in his arms, swaying his body side to side. and when you tell him the water's ready, sukuna prepped his big hand behind your daughter's small head so the water won't go to her face and began cleaning her. concentrating, he wets his finger and traced it over his daughter's face, making sure she's not frightened. and once he's done, he cupped his hand and scooped some water to wet her hair, rubbing her head lovingly.

girl dad! sukuna who's personality did a somersault ever since you were pregnant with his daughter. turning soft and more clingy, he has your daughter strapped to his chest. and will tell you that he's got it every time his daughter cries or ruined her diapers, he's learnt it all thanks to other great dads on youtube.

girl dad! sukuna who was even more ecstatic than you are when his daughter said her first word, which was of course "mama", he didn't care that she didn't say "dada", he focuses on the fact that his daughter had grown so much to be able to say her first word. tells your bundle of joy how proud he is of her even if she probably doesn't understand her father.

"maa..ma."

sukuna who had his eyes on the television immediately darted to his daughter who was in your hold, his lips were slightly parted as he tries to process what just happened, "did . . . did she . . ?"

when you confirmed his question, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head before kissing your daughter's head, muttering out a, "papa's proud of you, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who treats both you and your daughter like the most precious beings in the world. he. spoils. you. both. to no end, coming home from work with a present for the both of you. mostly food for you, and a toy for your daughter. you just know [daughter] is going to grow up spoiled by her father.

girl dad! sukuna who spoils your daughter rotten. and ever since her first steps — he's been going out with her to no end, of course going out as a family of three. holding your daughter's chubby little hands as he guided her down the street, earning coos from strangers all around him.

"good girl, that's right . . . left and right." he said softly, watching [daughter] walk slowly, still a little wobbly.

girl dad! sukuna who gets a little emotional when your daughter has her first birthday — because, it's been that fast? he tries not to cry, i swear. but silently slips inside the bathroom and lets a few one out before coming out like he didn't just cry over his daughter growing up too fast. he swore it was just yesterday that he was in the hospital.

girl dad! sukuna who will with no shame, participate in tea parties with his daughter once she's known enough about it. you'd call them both down for dinner and when they didn't, you decided to be the one to approach them inside [daughter]'s room. and there he was, sitting on the floor, to his left and right were [daughter]'s stuffed animals and your daughter was sitting across from sukuna with a silver tiara on.

"this looks fun," you chuckled, eyeing them.

"mama! tea party?" [daughter] beams out at you, you walked over to them and carried your daughter into your arms, "mama, no tea party?"

"after dinner, baby. okay?"

sukuna has no shame in it. at first, he did try to decline his daughter, telling her that she should ask you instead, but your daughter looked so crestfallen that he just has to accept — which turned out to be a daily thing now. a tea party.

girl dad! sukuna who will be his daughter's experiment subject to trying out make ups. he's a little skeptical (lies, he's very skeptical), but it's not like this is the first time he's had make up put on his face. he's had his fair share of you trying to put make up on him, but this was a toddler doing it and not a full grown adult. but he couldn't say no, so he just submits to his daughter and lets her modify his face and clips on cute hairclips to his hair.

"mama mama! look at papa," your daughter cheers, pointing at sukuna. and you laugh, carrying your daughter before approaching the male who was sitting down on the floor in the living room.

"you look pretty, ryo."

"i feel pretty, my little girl did it to me." he rolls his eyes before grabbing a mirror to look at his face.

eh, not bad.

girl dad! sukuna who drops his daughter off for the first day of pre-school, telling her that she should punch anyone who messes with her (thankfully nobody yet). and gets a bit emotional again as she walks inside the building, his eyes going glassy watching her skip inside her new chapter.

girl dad! sukuna who's overprotective when it comes to his little girl. a trip to the park was a daily routine for his family — and believe me when he has eyes everywhere for his little girl, if anyone was bothering her, he would have no fear on finding out who their parent was. taking matters into his own hands, leaving the children out of it. as much as he wanted to confront the kid for bothering his little princess, he knew the parents had the most fault.

"your boy has issues. the next time he lays his hand on my girl, i will come for you." he said to the boy's father before walking back to you.

the boy and his father never came back to the park after that day.

girl dad! sukuna who watches his daughter grow from a small girl to an eight year old in a matter of what felt like a week. he swore yesterday she was just babbling out her first word, and the next thing he knows, she's got a "boyfriend" at school? oh, boy.

"you don't have a boyfriend." he mutters out, eyeing his daughter.

"yes i do have a boyfriend," your daughter replies back with her soft voice.

"no."

the banter continued until your daughter ended up in tears, and sukuna had to force himself to say that she indeed had a boyfriend in school. he's upset that she's growing up too quickly, but at the same time — he's proud of his little girl.

girl dad! sukuna who finds out you were pregnant with a second child, who turned out to be another girl. and he was still as loving and caring like he was with his first daughter, this time, he had a helping hand to take care of you.

"mama has a baby in her belly, so you can't be too rough on her, okay?" he baby talks his eight year old daughter like she's still a small baby — he softly caresses your clothed stomach as he speaks to her.

girl dad! sukuna who had to see his first daughter cry over her new "soon to be" born baby sibling. thinking both you and him were not going to love her anymore — and his heart breaks, because why would he not love his princess anymore?

"hey, hey, why're you cryin'?" sukuna tucks [daughter]'s hair behind her ear as she lets out a few fat tears out of her eyes.

"mama and papa will still love me, right?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

sukuna pulls the young girl into his embrace, holding her with one of his arm as he wipes her tears with his other, "'f course mama and i will still love you, you're our princess."

girl dad! sukuna who proudly watches his big girl now approaching his newborn daughter and her sister, eyeing the baby with such an innocent glint in her eyes. oh, and big girl? doesn't matter, to sukuna, your first daughter will always be his little girl.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Ghosted

Male Jock Yandere Ghost x Gender Neutral Nerd Ghost Reader

CW: Reader death, ghosts, spirit world, manipulative yandere, stalking, general yandere behavior, consensual sex

Word Count: 801

(Trying to get back into the habit of writing, this is the result, hope you like it! I consider a demented ghost as still being a monster and therefore still teratophilia.)

You had died in college. One moment, you were being your nerdy self, rummaging through your binder, and the next, you were on the ground. You didn't really remember much, all very fuzzy. Was it a stroke? A brain aneurysm? You had no idea.

Once you were brain dead, though, you stepped from your body and appeared on the ghostly plane. A fog filled realm that somewhat mirrored the world of the living. Though spirits could make alterations, there were spaces untouched by the activities of the still living. 

There were a lot of ghosts. Many of them wandered aimlessly or were stuck in a loop of denial, acting out behaviors as if they were still alive. Others lashed aggressively, unable to regain their grip on their sanity. 

You mostly kept to yourself. Like Jonesy taught you. He was a former jock about your age when he died in the late 80s. He still wore his letterman jacket. You weren't limited to the clothes you died in, but you figured it was a symbol of how he was still attached to his old life.

Jonesy had taught you a lot of things. He had pretty much been your mentor since you had died. He was there waiting when you passed. He said he had sensed someone might die as he was wandering the halls of the college, where he had also died years ago. 

Jonesy said he was stuck in a loop. Being alone had made him lose his mental stability. But when he sensed you were about to die, it snapped him out of it. He said you saved him, so he wanted to get to know you and help you navigate the land of the dead. 

Plus, being together would help prevent the two of you from getting mentally frail. 

It was a bit of a paradox. Jonesy taught you to avoid most spirits, but communication and relationships were essential to staying sane. 

"You just have to know the right types to befriend. Many of the people here have a darkness in them and can drag you down if you're not careful."

He also told you the other secret to remaining stable. 

"You have to keep busy, do stuff. Don't get too bored."

There was a surprising amount you could do as a ghost. You could go to stores and yoink whatever you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, play video games, there was even a ghost version of the internet! 

Getting infinite free popcorn at the movies was your favorite thing. Jonesy always did that lame pretend yawn thing that ended with his arm wrapped around you. It was nice, though. Made you feel safe. You had been touch starved in life.

The transition to him being your boyfriend was so seemless and natural that you barely noticed that it had happened. You had never stopped any of his advances. Cuddling you, holding you, and smooching your cheek.

You didn't even question it when chaste kisses led to him kissing you hungrily before carefully taking off your clothing, like he was removing the wrapping from something delicate. 

Soon you found yourself laying ass up on his bed with him pounding into you, drinking in all your lusty moans and unabashed calling of his name.

He gripped your hips firmly as he came deeply into you; the pleasure made you see stars. His girthy cock stretched you wonderfully. You felt so lucky and special that this jock spirit had taken an interest in you, a lowly nerd.

Jonesy felt lucky too. He hadn't been in a loop. For a year before your death, he had been haunting you, It was difficult to peek into the living world, but once he found you, he was addicted. 

He loved watching you read books, study, and watch anime. He especially loved watching you shower, fervently jerking hinself off as he did so. 

It wasn't enough though. He needed to have you with him! You had been so perfect for him. You were kindred souls in a way. You were always alone and starved for attention. You'd fall for his affections easily, and you wouldn't just crossover beyond the purgatory the two of you were now in, you were too depressed for that.

Influencing people who were still alive was nearly impossible, but decades of being alone had made Jonesy angry and bitter. He used those emotions as fuel and tried many times to trip you down the stairs or get you to stroll into traffic absentmindedly. Finally, the jock was successful in busting something in your head.

At long last, you were with him. As he held you tightly, after making love several more times, he knew he'd be able to keep you there forever and he'd never have to be alone again. 

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

💌 next chapter

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[tiredsadpeach]

Update they both hate me because I told the child one of them was harassing the acc he could block to try and stop it

[genderqueerdykes]

poverty is so isolating. it means being alone and away from people, events, society. you can't afford trips to and from places. you can't afford to spare gas. you can't afford the entrance fee. you can't afford tickets. you can't afford making eating a social event. you can't buy drinks. you can't engage in hobbies.

all you're encouraged to do are "free" things, but they're not free. Internet isn't free. cell phone service isn't free. sitting on the computer and your phone all day is frowned upon for good reason because it destroys your health. we shouldn't have to only be able to talk to people digitally to be able to socialize. we shouldn't have to watch streams all day. we need to see other people, i DON'T care if it costs a few dollars: poor people shouldn't be relegated to what few free activities there are because most of them involve being alone.

the library is one of the most annoying suggestions because it makes you feel pinned. yes i want to support my local library. i cannot sit still and read in public. it is not socially acceptable to start taking to strangers in the library in fact you can't have conversations there at all because you need to be quiet for the other readers. libraries are places of education, accessibility to information and resources, and social services. it is not a place to socialize. maybe entertain but Only if you can, well, read. i have dissociative disorders and unmedicated ADHD, i don't make it very far into books. i feel like most poor people get really tired of the library suggestion. it's an amazing resource. but it's not for this purpose

social events are almost always off limits. sure you can go to the bar and not drink, if you don't have alcohol trauma, aren't a recovering alcoholic, aren't overstimulated by noise, aren't photosensitive, don't have anxiety with crowds and strangers, aren't a minor, have an ID, and can walk there or get a ride there. sure you can walk to the cafe and use their Wi-Fi but this isn't a social activity and in many places you can't sit there for long periods unless you buy anything.

i get SO tired of the "go to a cafe" suggestion. think about how boring that actually is. you're alone. in America, it is NOT socially acceptable to sit at a strangers table like it is in other countries, let alone just start talking to them. it is NOT a common experience to strike up a conversation with strangers in cafes in America, like we really have cafes other than fucking starbucks to begin with.

going for walks and going to parks is not accessible to people with physical disabilities, agoraphobia, some schizophrenics, people with dog trauma, and other issues. parks usually have really poorly maintained or no sidewalks or foot paths. they can be uneven and hard to traverse for people who use mobility aids. unless you live near a monument or state park, your local parks are really meant for dogs to piss and shit in, for joggers to run through, and to look impressive to investors. they're usually pathetic swaths of grass with you guessed it, nothing to do. again it's rare to strike up conversation at the park. people need conversation starters. there's Nothing going on at the park. it's a great place to go if you need to cool down when angry or stressed, but it's fucking boring.

window shopping is pointless and dehumanizing. i really can't stand it when people suggest poor people window shop so we can think about things to buy when we have money ... why the fuck would i ever do that. when i don't have money i don't think about frivolous things i don't need. what the fuck kind of activity is window shopping, that's for people who have money.

poor people get tired of doing the "free" shit. if you suggest that a poor person should do these things when you do none of them yourself, you have 0 clue how boring and dehumanizing it is to never be able to decide what you do with your time. to have limited options to live. to experience.

money is not the reason you get to experience; you get to experience because you are alive. no poor people don't deserve to sit there and do nothing all day because they didn't "earn" anything. no poor people don't deserve to live their lives because they don't make as much as you. poor people deserve to enjoy being alive. poor people get to decide to have fun with their money, too.

I'm so tired of people being so harsh on people who struggle with financial issues and spending money "right" or "smart". reckless spending and difficulty managing finances are symptoms of mental illness and neurodivergence. bipolar, personality disorders, schizophrenia, anxiety, autism, ADHD, OCD and other mental health conditions can make managing funds very hard. don't be extra cruel to someone who spends money poorly in response to a mental health crisis. this won't make their situation any easier.

i sat in apartment after apartment for a decade doing nothing. i was a total shut in because i had no money. i never did anything but browse the Internet. all day long. without end. i was dissociating constantly. my anxiety was at its highest. i was constantly psychotic. instead of going out to fix it, i would stay inside longer, making it worse and worse and worse. i never bought anything. i didn't have hobbies. all of my decorations and possessions were from my childhood, my clothes were literally falling apart, a decade old. my walls were barren. my world was grey.

don't do this to yourself. don't tell yourself that you deserve nothing because it's harder for you to make money than other people. I'm very lucky now that i have made friends who pulled me out of my shell and have helped me get outside of my house. i spent so long alone and trapped indoors thinking it's the only thing i could do with myself for years. I'm finally recovering. if you're poor you deserve to live. you're alive. and you're not alone. i love you.

[nanaslutt]

NURSE GETO? NURSE GETO? GETO NURSE? NURSE GETO? BARKEKKAKAJEVRLKA BARKBARKBARK pls. n u r s e g e t o

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦

ft. Fem!Nurse!Geto x Reader x Doctor!Gojo

contains: fem reader, bisexual reader, pwp, sexual tension, threesome, oral (all three of them), unprotected sex, pullout method, cum eating, face sitting, rough sex, making out, soooo much dirty talk, teasing, masturbation, age gap (reader is 20, satosugu are 30ish), finger sucking, squirting, tag teaming

wc: 14.9k… this took 3 days to write

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You had recently moved states, meaning you had to break up with your doctor of however many years. It was a sad goodbye, and now you were left with the burden of finding a new doctor. You had recently turned twenty, just having moved out of your parent's house a couple months ago, and you had no idea where to start in looking for a new doctor.

You decided you were going to use your newfound freedom to stay out late and sleep with whoever you wanted! Typical first-time adult free from their parent's reins behavior; but you werent stupid, you knew if you were going to do this, you would need to get on some form of contraceptives.

This led you to look up some highly-rated doctors in your area that was currently talking new patients. You scrolled past dozens upon dozens of old wrinkled faces, before you landed on the perfect candidate; Gojo Satoru. His hair was frosted white, his face looked like it had been chiseled by the gods, and his eyes? You felt like they had come to life on the screen in front of you and were looking through your soul.

Yeah, you had chosen your primary care physician based on his looks, so what? You dug into his portfolio and watched the countless interviews he had done on various websites of course! Definitely not because his outrageous looks and deep voice made your stomach turn over, and absolutely to learn more about your soon-to-be doctor.

After one unnecessarily long phone call to the hospital and speaking to some woman who sounded too senile to still be working; you had the appointment set.

One week later, on the day awaited day, you sat in the waiting room and twirled your thumbs in your lap, you couldn't help but notice that every other patient around you was four times your age. You had dressed yourself up in some sexy, but formal enough-looking clothes, you didn't want to make it too obvious that you had dressed up for this—but your styled hair and extra makeup you added might have given that away.

Your eyes never left the clock as you watched the arms tick by, signaling the time as it got closer and closer to your appointment. You constantly had to remind yourself to take deep breaths as you wiped your sweaty palms off on your knees. You didn't feel this nervous when you were ogling him on the internet, but now that you were here, all the nerves came crashing down. Each time the door to the appointment rooms creaked open, and some different nurse walked into the waiting area, you held your breath before they ultimately called a name that wasn't yours.

After about fifteen minutes past your scheduled time, your nerves had gone down significantly from all of the waiting. You were just about to pull out your phone for the first time that day and play some mobile game to pass the time when the awaited door opened once more, and a tall nurse with long black hair and dark eyes stepped into the room.

She was wearing a tightly fitted mid-thigh length white dress, the sleeves reached to her wrists, but she had rolled them up to her elbows. Her long black hair was pulled half up in a bun, and her side bangs were pulled out from the bun to fall around her face. The rest of her dark strands ran down her back, some cascaded off of her shoulders and rested deliciously against her chest. The low neck of the dress allowed you to get an eyeful of her cleavage that seemed to glow under the yellow lights; you gazed at her collarbones and her slender neck as her dark hair contrasted beautifully against her pale skin.

You could stare at her forever, your gaze dropped down to legs, her thighs were lined in dark tights that made her skin look like silk, your eyes continued in their path down her body until you reached her feet, which stood in delicate-looking black heels—not too too tall— and they made her ankles look so delicious. Her gaze was down on the clipboard she held it against her arm, reading the patient's name mentally before she looked up from under her lashes and scanned around the room and called out your name.

You swore you were the universe's favorite child. First, you had found the hottest man you've ever seen in your life to be your doctor, and his nurse just happened to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. She called your name again, snapping you out of your stupor and making you slap yourself mentally as you rose to your feet, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you started towards her.

Up close you could see her slanted eyes more clearly, they looked so seductive as she gave you a quick one-over, before she held the door open for you, "Hi sweetheart, we're gonna go to the left." She instructed, to which you just nodded and blushed. She let the door fall shut behind the both of you when you entered, walking past countless diagnosis rooms as she led you to get your measurements. "I haven't seen you here before, is this your first time seeing Dr. Satoru?" She asked, holding her hand out to you to take your bag as she set up the scale for you.

"Oh, y-yeah," You stuttered, trying and failing to meet her sultry eyes as you took off your shoes and placed them to the side of the scale, "I moved here pretty recently so I had to get a new physician." Explained. "I see~" She cooed, mumbling for you to stand straight against the wall so she could get the proper measurements of you before she continued, "Well I'm positive you will love the doctor, He is a very thorough and knowledgeable man." You tensed when you felt her hands graze the top of your head as she brought the leveler down against you to get your height.

"Go ahead and step up here for me." She said, to which you complied, stepping on the scale. "Have you been working for him long?" You asked, making her giggle; the sound was music to your ears. "Ah, funny you ask." She said, jotting down the numbers on the screen in front of her before you stepped down and started pulling your shoes back on. "We have actually been friends since high school." She smiled, tilting her head at you and making her hair drape across her pale face.

You didn't know who you were more jealous of—Dr. Gojo, for being around this woman for god knows how many years of his life, or This woman in front of you, for being around Gojo for all the years of her life. You knew Gojo was about 10 years your senior, so you guessed it must've been the same for her. Not like you would've been able to tell, her skin was almost completely void of any wrinkles or blemishes, she looked like she could be your age if not for her more mature demeanor.

"Wow! That's so cool that you ended up working together! It must be fun." You exclaimed, taking your bag from her as you started for the more private room she would take you to meet the doctor. "It can be." She said, shaking her head with a smile, "He is.. a character for sure." Her subtle insult of him made you laugh. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable wherever, i'm just going to ask you a couple questions and perform some basic tests on you before I go get him." She explained, "Oh, you can call me Geto by the way, seeing your fresh new face caught me off guard earlier, forgive me." She said, smiling sweetly at you.

That made you gulp, hard. You had caught her off guard? Your head was spinning. She had no idea what she just did to your ego. Geto.. you repeated her name in your head a couple times, loving the way it rolled off your mental tongue. She giggled, "That's my name~" Your jaw dropped. You swore you had said it in your head, but obviously not as she glanced at you briefly with a smile before going back to pull up your records. You pulled your lip between your teeth in embarrassment before you spoke. "S-sorry, it's- you have a pretty name." You stuttered.

She gazed up from her screen and looked over your form as you looked around the room, she couldn't help but think of how cute you looked when you were embarrassed. "Well thank you," she said, finally succeeding in pulling up your records. "You know, it's so nice to have a patient that isn't geriatric, not that I don't love all the old geezers out there." She giggled, "It's just refreshing, I'm glad you chose Satoru." She said honestly, making you blush as you connected your eyes with hers. "Glad I could help," you responded, the both of you keeping your eyes on the other while you spoke.

After a couple beats of silence, she broke eye contact and manipulated the large computer so it was in front of her, "Alright~ It seems you're pretty healthy by looking at your records, just gonna ask you to confirm your date of birth for me before we continue." She asked, looking at you once more and smiling in approval when you answered quickly, "Good girl." Her smooth voice echoed her words in your head, making you clench your thighs together on the too-hard chair you sat on.

After she asked you a couple more standard questions she started gathering the blood pressure and heartrate tools to finish up your standard check-in details. She stood up from her chair and waltzed over to where you sat, her hips swaying as she walked, stopping right in front of you. "Is it alright if I roll up your sleeve?" She asked, waiting for your consent before she wrapped the hard plastic around your arm. "Thank you, sweetheart, relax your legs for me as well, and stick out your finger, please." She asked as she clamped the heartrate monitor on your finger.

She took a step back and put her hand on her hips, watching the numbers appear on the little screens of the tools. A smile appeared on her face before she removed the clamp from your finger, "Do I make you nervous?" She asked, catching you off guard and making your eyes shoot up to meet hers. "Uh," you laughed nervously, "I'm only kidding~" She said, removing the plastic from your arm, the back of her hand grazing against your breast as she did so, leaving your skin feeling like it was buzzing where she touched you. "Your heart rate is just a little high~" Geto explained.

"Oh, I guess I am a little nervous." You admitted shyly, rubbing your sweaty hands against your knees once more. "Aww~ Don't be nervous sweet thing, me and the doctor have your best interests at heart trust me~" She cooed, succeeding in easing your nerves slightly. "So, last question for the doctor, what brings you in today? Standart check-up stuff, or something else?" She asked, tipping her head at you as she waited for you to respond.

At this point, you were semi-regretting your choice to pick a hot doctor with a coincidental hot nurse at the embarrassment you felt from just thinking about telling them you wanted to go on birth control. Maybe you should've chosen one of those old-looking doctors. What if you had hemorrhoids one day? Or had a nasty rash you needed to get looked at? You didn't want these beautiful people to know about that!

You took a deep breath before you spoke, "I uh, was wanting to go on birth control." You said. "Ohh~ smart girl." She perked up, "Did you want to get STI or STD tested while you were here? It's super quick." She offered. "Oh! nono, I uh, I'm not currently.. sexually active." You responded. You were too busy looking at the floor mortified to notice how her eyes lit up upon the revelation that you currently had no sexual partner.

"Oh I see, we can skip the test then~" She said, jotting down the final notes into your chart before she stood, smoothing her dress down her thighs as she rose to her feet. "Alright sweetheart, Ill be right back with the doctor." She winked, making your mouth run dry as you nodded shortly at her. You couldnt stop your eyes from dropping to her ass, watching her hips move as she walked out of the room and gently shut the door behind her.

The second you were alone, you dropped your head into your hands and sighed, your face turning an impossibly darker shade of crimson. You should not be as aroused as you were but she was definitely flirting, right? You had a horrible radar for this kind of thing. Her flirty personality might be just that, her personality, but it seemed more than that. You heaved out a louder sigh, repeating your interactions with her over and over in your head a thousand times as you waited for the doctor.

"Satoruuu, patient time." Geto knocked on his office, making the white-haired man groan and drop his legs onto the floor from where they were splayed out on his desk. "I love my job, but I don't know how many more old geezers with cholesterol problems I can take." He sighed, throwing on his white coat to give him an air of professionalism before he started for the door. The man was halted in his tracks when Geto gave him a squinted look, "Just a second, Satoru." She said, pushing his chest back into his office and shutting the door behind him.

"Oh, Suguru look, I'm flattered~ Truly~" Gojo started, placing the back of his hand over his forehead dramatically. "Ew, no, it's about the patient," Geto said, rolling her eyes at her obnoxious best friend's antics. He dropped his hand to his hips, tilting his head at her as he waited for her to speak, "I think you're really going to like this one, shes new," Geto said, raising her eyebrows. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but I'm not into women who are 50-plus years older than me." He sighed, his face tuning into a scowel as he dismissed Geto.

"You're impossible," She sighed, rubbing her temples. Gojo never listened to a thing anyone says, trying to talk to him was like communicating with a brick wall. "She's young, Gojo; twenty; and she wants your help to get her on birth control." She said, watching the color come back to Gojo's face as she spoke. "If you're lying Ill tell the superiors you forged a drug test." He said, all too seriously, making Suguru laugh. "She's a cute one too, just come see for yourself." She giggled, fixing her hair in the mirror on Gojo's door before she opened it and walked into the hallway, Satoru right on her tail, bouncing with excitement.

You lifted your head from your knees and wiped the stray hairs from your face when you heard a knock on your door. Your heart immediately started pounding out of your chest. Good thing you were at a hospital right now because you seriously thought you were going to have a heart attack at any second.

When the door cracked open, the first thing you saw was his white hair peeking through the door, his cruelian eyes next, as they made searing contact with yours. He was so much taller than you imagined, he must've been well over 6 ft tall as he had to duck his head to enter the room. His shirt looked all too small for his chest, the buttons that adorned it were threatening to burst if he moved too suddenly. You could see his bulging muscles through his slacks and his white doctor's jacket alike, making you swallow the saliva that pooled in your mouth, threatening to spill over your lips.

When he was full inside, Geto's familiar face was revealed to you as she slipped in behind him. You couldn't tell if her presence set you more on edge, or comforted you with how fast your heart was racing. "Well hello there." The handsome man said your name and the word has never sounded better when it rolled off his tongue, "Nurse Geto told me this is your first time seeing me," He smiled fondly at you, showing off his impossibly white teeth, "Although I could come to that conclusion myself, I would remember someone like you." He said, making your mouth run dry.

"My name is Dr. Gojo Satoru, its a pleasure to meet you." He said, squinting his eyes as he smiled at you and stuck his large hand out for you to shake. His hand almost entirely covered yours when he shook it, the heat radiating from his hand alone seemed to warm your entire body from the couple of seconds of contact.

"I-its nice to meet you too." You said through a shaky voice, trying your best to keep eye contact with his intimidating gaze. "Nurse Geto will just be here to take notes, is that alright?" He asked, sitting on the chair Geto sat at before, placed in front of the big computer. You shook your head, signaling your approval before you gazed away from him and made eye contact with her comforting face.

"Alright let's get down to business ~" He clapped his hands together before dragging two big fingers over the mousepad and looking briefly over your chart. "You're here to talk about birth control right?" He checked, raising his eyebrow at you as he looked over your body quickly before you looked back at him. "Yes, I've never used any form of contraceptives before, so.. I'm not really sure what all the methods are." This confession made Gojo's eyebrows shoot up.

"Ohhh ballsy~" He said before continuing, "You really should at least use a condom during sex, they protect against many forms of STD's and largely prevent unwanted pregnancies." He explained, interlacing his fingers together in his lap. "Has Nurse Geto already offered the STD screeding today?" He asked. "Oh, no I think you misunderstand, Ive never.." You paused, and he smiled and nodded at your words, encouraging you to continue, "I've never needed contraceptives because I haven't had sex before, but I've recently been attending college for the first time so I thought It might be smart to start now, you never know what might happen." You explained, looking away from his glowing eyes.

"Ah, good girl, that's a very responsible decision." He praised. What was with these people and their flirty personalities? You felt like your face was going to explode with how hot it was. Geto hummed in agreement in the background, making you look between the two of them. "Well, lucky for you my dear, we have manyy~ options available for you." He dragged in his chipper voice. "I'll make sure you leave with some condoms today, Geto will provide those for you at the end of your appointment, so you'll be covered there." He said, making you smile and nod in appreciation.

"But for the big guns, we have the pill, which is most common but typically has the most intense side effects." Your face scrunched up at the sound of side effects, yuck. He explained a couple more options, Nexplanon; an implant that would go in your arm, which made you cringe, A shot you would get once every three months; which sounded annoying, and an IUD, which would essentially get shoved into your cervix via some overworked and mean woman who doesnt care about your general well being and just wants to go home to sleep.

He laughed at your face when you stared at your feet with an expression of disgust. "You don't seem very thrilled with any of the options." He said, rolling his chair over to yours as he caressed his big hand over your back. This was a lot more to take in than you thought. "Am I supposed to be?" You asked, looking up at your lashes at his face that was far too close for comfort, yet you wouldn't dare tell him to move. Geto laughed at your response, "Absolutely not, being a woman is hell, and they aren't going to make it any easier by giving us some nice, painless out of getting pregnant." She said, making your sigh.

As intimidating as these two were, you felt strangely comfortable talking to them about this, especially with how real they were being. Geto was clearly not afraid to give you the cold hard truth and not sugar coat anything. "Are you on birth control?" You aked Geto, quickly putting your arms out in front of you as your face heated up, "I am so sorry! You don't have to answer that!" You panicked, making the both of them giggle.

"It's alright sweetie, Id be more than happy to tell you. Talking to another woman about their own experience with certain forms of birth control can help you make your own informed decision." She smiled. You don't think you've ever wanted to fuck a woman so bad in your life. You mentally slapped yourself from getting aroused at her explaining birth control to you, but the way she was being so supportive made your stomach do flips.

"And you definitely don't need to make a decision today," Gojo added, removing his hand from your back as he sat back into his chair, spreading his legs out wide. "Doctor Gojo is right," Geto added, before she rose to her feet and walked over to where you sat before sitting down next to you herself and placing her hand on your knee.

"As for your question, I used to be on the pill, but taking it every day at the same time got tedious, so I got an IUD and it was the best decision I ever made." She said, rubbing her hand over your knee in a way that you assume was supposed to be comforting but it just heightened your arousal if anything. She leaned in till her mouth was right against your ear and whispered, "The best part is your partner can come inside and you don't even have to think about it." She giggled, pulling back her hand from your leg as she stood up and got back into her place behind Gojo's seat.

So that was flirting, right? She was 100% flirting right there, there was no doubt in your mind. "No secrets," Gojo whined, pouting at Geto while she stuck her tongue out at him. You couldn't even pay attention to the banter between them as your ear was still tingling from where she whispered into it.

"I-I think the IUD sounds good." You said, making Geto giggle. "Did what I tell you help you come to that conclusion?" She asked, Once again making Gojo beg for her to tell him what she said. "Geeez." She said, shooing Gojo off of her with her hand, "I just let her know that she doesn't have to worry if her partner comes inside her." She said, making a grin plaster itself over Gojo's handsome features.

"Ohh" He cooed, "Yeah that is a nice perk." The white-haired man said, rolling his chair away from Geto's personal space. "Does that sound like something you're interested in?" The handsome doctor asked, making you choke on your saliva. "H-huh, I uh, I don't know, It sounds like it could be nice.." You said under your breath. "A IUD sounds like it could be nice?" He repeated, making you freeze as you realized you misunderstood his question. Of course he wasn't asking you if you wanted to get cream pied, for fuck's sake. You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole right now.

Geto snickered under her breath, a light blush coating her face at your confession. "Well, it is nice, She's not wrong." The dark-haired woman added, making your embarrassment worse as you hid your face in your hands. "Ughhhh.. sorry." Your muffled voice came through your hands, making Gojo laugh softly. "It's okay, no one is judging here." He said, taking the opportunity to once again study your body under his intense gaze as your eyes were obstructed.

You took a deep breath before dropping your hands into your lap, intertwining your fingers as you twiddled with your thumbs. "I'll make a follow-up appointment for a week from now to give you some time to think about it." He said, changing the subject so as to not embarrass you any further. Geto typed some notes down into her laptop from behind him while Gojo scrolled through your chart. He made sure you had no other questions regarding the topic before he continued.

"Alright, so It says here in your chart that your last physical exam was over three years ago, is that right?" He asked you, "Yes, that's right." you replied, noticing how he tsked at your answer. "You really should be making regualr visits to the doctor~" He cooed, wiggling his long finger out in front of him. "When was the last time you had a breast exam? Im not seeing any notes about that in your chart either." He said, scrolling on the computer.

You bit your lip before answering, "I uh, I've never gotten a.. a breast exam." You said, making both Geto and Gojo turn their heads to look at you. "Oh honey, those are so important you know, you should be checking yourself yearly after you turn 18." Geto explained. You knew she was right but it sounded so embarrassing. You remember trying it yourself once, following the guide of som video years ago, but you had no idea what you were feeling for, and the thought of some doctor doing it for you made you even more nervous, so you just abandoned the thought.

"I tried myself after we learned about it in high school but.. I didn't know how to do it, and it seemed so humiliating to ask my doctor to help me." You said, making brief eye contact with the two before you looked around the room, avoiding their eyes. Geto and Gojo simultaneously bit their lip, their faces heating up at your innocent confession before the white-haired man spoke up. "Honey, that's what we're here for, you should never feel embarrassed for keeping yourself healthy." He cooed, standing from his seat as his long legs took him over to the cupboards, where he pulled out a white gown.

"Go ahead and put this on, we'll leave the room to give you some privacy." He explained, putting the white cloth in your hands. "We can do your breast exam today, along with your other physical exam testing." He said, smiling at you warmly before he tipped his head at Geto and signaled for the two of them to leave. You waited until the door clicked shut before you stood. You looked around the room before you started undressing.

You pulled off all of your clothes, save for your panties, which you couldn't help but notice that you had completely soaked through. You hoped they wouldn't somehow notice during the exam, you would be absolutely mortified. You folded your clothes and placed them on the empty chair next to your bag, while you waited with a racing heart for them to re-enter the room.

Gojo and Geto had moved just a couple feet down the hall, leaning against opposite sides of the wall next to the window while they waited. "Good call on bringing up the breast exam," Geto spoke through the silence, which made him sigh in relief as Gojo's body relaxed, dropping his arms by his side. "Oh I'm so glad you said something, I thought it was pretty smart." He giggled mischievously.

"So what do you think of her?" Geto asked, twirling a dark strand of her hair around her manicured fingers. "She's fucking adorable, I just wanna bend her over the exam table and fuck the life outta her." Gojo wined, tipping his head back against the wall. Geto laughed in response, wholeheartedly agreeing with her perverted best friend.

"I'm so glad this ridiculously long coat covers my crotch, I've been so unbelievably hard from the second I laid eyes on her." Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair before he stared down at his crotch. "Wouldn't wanna scare her away now." Geto laughed, following his gaze down to his covered crotch and nodding in approval when she couldn't see the massive tent he was sporting through the cover of it.

The two of them would feel bad about talking about a clueless patient like this, but you were so fun to tease, and you were just too fucking cute that it overwhelmed any rational thinking from them. The two friends truly did share a brain cell when they were around you. "Yeah, I hear you, I wonder if she's into women, I would love to see her doe eyes looking up at me while I sit on her face." She day dreams, huffing out a sigh of her own.

"Oh, are you kidding?" Gojo laughed, "Did you see the way she clenched her thighs when you put your hand on her knee? She definitely swings both ways." The two of them gossiped for a couple minutes like their high school days, before Geto got a glimpse of the time on Gojo's watch. "She's probably done now don't you think?" Geto said, tapping her heel against the floor. "Yeah, it's time." Gojo smiled, giving Geto a sneaky fist bump before they made their way back to your room.

You held the fabric closer to your body when you heard them knock on the door. Once you verbalized that they could come inside, the door squeaked open, and they stepped into your space once more. "Oh my god thank you for folding your clothes so neatly." Geto sighed, holding her hand over her chest while she spoke. "I swear these old babies just leave their clothes all over the floor like children, then ask me to clean it up after." She sighed, referring to the old patients they saw all too often.

Her relief made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit as you waved your hand in front of you, telling her it was no problem. "Alright, go ahead and sit up here for me." Doctor Gojo spoke, patting his hand on the parchment lined exam bed in the middle of the room. You raised to your feet, holding the back of the gown shut behind your ass as you climbed onto the bed and sat down.

Gojo stood inches from his pelvis touching your knees as he gripped the rubber reflex hammer in his massive hand, making it look dwarfed. Geto walked around him and sat in one of the chairs that gave her the best view, bringing her laptop with her to disguise her perverted antics as work. "Is it alright if I touch you?" Gojo asked, looking into your eyes as he waited for his answer.

To your own surprise, you were able to keep contact with them as you nodded shyly, and dropped your gaze to his hand as it started for your knee. You twitched instinctively when his warm hand cradled the underside of your knee before smoothing it around to the front and gently pushing the fabric of the gown up so he could have a better view of what he was doing.

He pressed his palm flat against your thigh, right above your knee, and hit the rubber against your knee, making it kick up reflexively as you kicked against his shin lightly. "Oh- sorry doctor." You apologized. "Don't be, sweetheart." He laughed, "It's not like you can control it." He said. He then instructed you to scoot against the edge of the bed so he could press his stethoscope against various parts of your torso.

"This might be a little cold." He warned before his big hand came to stabilize your lower back as he pressed the cold metal agaisnt the skin on your back, making you tense up at the touch. He apologized and continued pressing the stethescope over specific points on your back as he had you inhale deeply for him. "Thats right, just like that." He praised when you listende obediantly to his instruction, making your face flush, something Geto did not miss as she sat in front of you with a perfect veiw of your entire body.

His warm hand made your skin feel like it was on fire, you pulled your lip between your teeth when his hand moved lower on your back, as did his stethoscope. His body was so close to yours, your knees practically pressed against his waist.

“Your heart is racing~” he teased, pulling away entirely as he spoke some numbers to Geto, making her type them down on her laptop. “It’s been a while..” you laughed awkwardly. “Since someone touched you?” he said, making every hair on your body stand on edge. “S-since I’ve been to the doctor, I mean..” you clarified, cleaning your throat as you avoided his eyes which were staring straight through yours. The white-haired man smiled at your response before he leaned back, removing his touch from your body.

"Right," He said before he hung his stethescope back around his neck. "Are you ready for the breast exam?" He asked, which mad you clench your thighs together at what was to come. "I uh.. I think so, but I have a question." You said, staring up at his face that seemed to be beaming with excitement. "Is there any way that Nurse Geto could um.. do the exam?" You asked, embarrassment laced in your tone. "I don't mean to offend you, its just, she's.." You stuttered.

If you had been paying attention you would've seen the way the light drained from Gojo's face, as he tried his best to maintain his smile. "Absolutely!" Geto perked, standing from her chair as she placed her hand on Gojo's shoulder, pushing him out of the way. "I would be more than happy to take over." She said kindly, giving Gojo a smug look over her shoulder before walking past him.

"Thats. Perfectly. Fine!" Gojo grit through his faux smile, his eye twitching at the fact that Geto got to touch you before him. If it were any other nurse he would've been fine with it. Sure, he still would've been bummed out; but it would've been fine. Only now, because he knew Geto had the same motives as him, it irritated him to no end.

"Do you want me to leave the room too?" He asked, trying to not let the 'sore loser' seep into his tone. He heaved an internal sigh of relief when you shook your head, allowing him to stay in the room. "Alright, I'm going to draw this curtain for some privacy, then we can get to it." She said, making you bite your lip and nod at her, as you held eye contact with her dark eyes. You watched with bated breath as she drew the curtain between the two of you, and the doctor.

Unbeknownst to you, she had sent the man on the other side one last smug look before she closed the curtain. Once she secured it to the hook on the wall, she turned to face you, holding her hands together in front of her. "Alright sweetie, whenever you're ready, you can remove your gown." Her smooth voice echoed into the room. Gojo had made himself comfortable leaning against the wall, his head tipped back against it as he bit his lip and tried to quiet his own pounding heart enough to listen to what was happening just a couple feet from him.

You held the fabric over your chest, getting a hold of your nerves before you slid it down your arms. Geto kept her eyes on your face, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. She did however get a peek of them through her prerephrial vision, which would suffice for now. "Do you prefer to sit or stand for this?" She asks, already looking into your eyes when you look back to her. "I- I think I'll sit, if that's okay." You replied. You seriously didn't know if your legs would hold up if you were to stand right now, they were already trembling and she hadnt even done anythng yet.

She stepped into your space, slotting herself between your knees and up against the hospital bed as she released her fingers from one another, coming to rest on the side of the bed. "I'm going to start now, okay?" She said, smiling when you nodded at her.

You knew you weren't going crazy, something was here, it had to be. The air felt so thick, it felt so hard to breathe with her so close. On top of that, you didn't think you'd ever been so turned on in your life. The throbbing between your legs and the heat that was pooling in your belly was almost unbearable. Your bare chest was out for her eyes; and soon her hands; to feast upon. Your nipples had pebbled from being so exposed, and you could feel the goosebumps that spread along your arms while you held your breath, and watched her reach her hands out to touch you.

When her warm hands made contact with your skin you gasped, quickly pressing your lips together as a crimson blush spread itself darker along your face. "You okay?" She asked, beginning to massage your breasts in her hands. "M-mhm" You answered, looking away from her intimidating gaze and opting to look at the floor while she squished and squeezed your breasts in her hands.

When she made sure she wouldn't be caught looking, she dropped her gaze to your breasts. She felt her cunt pulse around nothing when the view of your completely unobstructed tits registered in her brain. She quickly licked her lips, trying to snap herself out of the trance she was in and focus on the task at hand.

On the other side of the curtain, Gojo had his palm pressed over his mouth, his head still tipped back against the wall as his other was rubbing himself slowly over his slacks. His head was spinning listening to the little gasps and whines you made, he wished so badly that he was the one making you make all those sounds; what he wouldn't give to see your face right now.

His legs threatened to buckle underneath him the longer he stroked himself, he knew he shouldn't be doing this but the only other person who would ever know about this was Geto, and he knew she would take it to the grave.

A loud moan emanating from the other side of the curtain made him freeze. "Sorry honey, did that hurt?" Geto asked in her sultry voice, quickly looking back up to your eyes to avoid being caught ogling your tits. "N-no, didn't.. didn't hurt." You said, looking up at her from underneath your eyelashes. "Mmm.. just sensitive, huh?" She asked, pouting her bottom lip at you as she continued massaging your breasts in her hands.

She resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together, taking a deep breath to calm herself when you nodded. "Mine are the same too, I get it." She admitted, making you rub your thighs together. "They feel quite healthy tho, no lumps or anything feeling concerning." She said, bringing the more professional side of things back into play before she lost her cool and kissed you. Gojo was so close to ripping back the curtain to see what was happening, but now more than ever was a time that he needed to exercise patience.

"A-are you sure?" You said, you really didn't want her to stop touching you, it made your cunt pulse whenever she squished your breasts in her hands. "Well.. I'm not as experienced as the doctor.." She drawled, making Gojo remove his hand from his cock as he perked up. "If you're okay with it, we could get a second opinion." She offered, to which you nodded eagerly. She laughed at your enthusiasm before she replied, "Okay, Ill go ahead and let Doctor Gojo in." She smiled, before turning around to untie the curtain from the wall.

You weren't thinking rationally at this point, your brain was feeling foggy and your body was plagued with the need for release. You were no longer as embarrassed as you were before as you sat patiently on the bed and waited for the doctor.

Gojo straightened his coat in front of himself once more when Geto cracked open the curtain for him. She shook her head when she noticed how flushed and out of it he looked, making a vague gesture to his hair, telling him to fix it before he presented himself to you.

After the man ran his hands through his soft hair a couple of times— and after receiving a nod of approval from Geto— he made peeked his head inside, and let Geto shut the cloth behind him, tying it to the wall once more to block them off from the rest of the room.

Gojo smiled at you, internally screaming as your eyes made contact with his, meaning he couldn’t peek a look at your bare chest that sat right in front of him, practically begging for him to touch it. “Well hello again, I hope you’ve been well~” he said, easing the palpable tension in the space before he made his way in front of you.

“Heard you wanted a second opinion, hm?” He asked, tilting his head while he smiled at you. “Y-yeah, just in case.. yknow,” you said under your breath. The both of them saw through your lie. They were all picking up on the same tension you felt, and Gojo was well aware that Geto was more than familiar with giving breast exams adequately, she had never asked Gojo for a second opinion before.

“Alright, let’s see.” Gojo whispered before he pushed himself in the same position Geto was before him, right between your legs, as she watched him ‘work’ from the side. As much as Geto loved touching your herself, it made it hard to look at your breasts while she did, so now that Gojo was ‘double checking’ her work, she had the perfect excuse to watch.

You bit your lip between your teeth and looked down at his hands when you felt his larger palms make contact with your breasts. You were unable to stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together as subtly as possible, although not quite subtle enough. Geto’s watchful eyes picked up on your shifting, she watched you cross your ankles together and your spine stiffen while Gojo worked his hands on you.

"Mph-" Your muffled moans vibrated agains your lips as you tried your best to hold back. "Hmm~" Gojo hummed, furrowing his eyebrows together. "Something wrong?" Geto asked, uncrossing her arms from where she stood. "Maybe.. feel this spot right here for me." Gojo asked, moving his hand off of your right breast and letting Geto step into your space. Your body jolted when her cold fingers wrapped around your breast and squeezed roughly while Gojo's hand was still at work on your other.

"Mmm feels a little tender," She said, pouting her bottom lip out. "I-is that bad?" You asked, looking up at her while she watched your breast move under the manipulation of her hand. "How often do you venture up here?" She asked, keeping her eyes on yours while she spoke. "N-not often." You asked, making Gojo and Geto shake their heads in unison. "Thats no good~ Its good to keep the blood moving up here every once in a while." Gojo chastised, giving your tit a particularly hard squeeze.

"It's sooo easy too." Geto continued, leaning into your ear, "You can do it when you're all alone.. getting ready for bed.." Her whispers made your breath pick up, your choked breaths were freely flowing into the air as the two of them massaged your chest. This was no longer about a breast exam, and the three of you knew it. "Touching your nipples is soo good for the blood flow too~" She continued her teasing, pinching your hard bud between her index finger and thumb.

"Anyways~" She said suddenly, removing her hand completely and backing up from you after rolling your nipple between her fingers for a few seconds. Gojo copied her, pulling his hand away from your skin and placing it on his hip as he faced his body towards the dark-haired nurse, "I didn't feel anything abnormal, so I think we've checked all our bases." She said, winking at Gojo, signaling for him to go along with it.

"Oh yeah, I think you're right, they felt veeerry healthy to me," Gojo responded, dragging out his words. You started panicking internally, it couldn't be over already, could it? Had this all really just been professional? Including the stuff Geto just said? Your body was on fire, you were feeling drunk already and they had barely touched you, there was no way it stopped here. "W-wait, that was s-so fast, are you sure you checked thoroughly enough?" You asked, trying and failing to keep the need out of your voice.

"I mean, both of us are pretty experienced with this kind of thing.. and we didn't feel anything wrong, you worried we missed something?" Gojo asked, smirking when you nodded a little too quickly. "Are you sure?" He asked, making you tilt your head in confusion, "Sure about what?" You asked, pulling up the cloth to cover your breasts as you waited for him to speak. "Are you sure you're worried we missed something?" He asked, making Geto cover her mouth with a snicker, before she slapped his shoulder.

"I-yes, w-why else.." You bait, swallowing hard as you try to breathe in the heavy air in the room. "Well~" The white-haired doctor started as he slowly turned his body to face you once more, looking you up and down before he started making his way over to you. The two of you kept eye contact with one another up until he was between your legs again, his big hand came up to push your hand that was holding the gown over your chest down into your lap.

"I know getting your chest played with can feel erotic." He said, curling his lips in on themselves before he reached his hand out for your chest once more, and engulfed your tit in his hand. "Could that be why you don't want us to stop?" He said, tilting his head down at you as he tried to make you look at his eyes again. Your jaw dropped open as soft moans slipped from your tongue and out into the small room around you.

Geto came up from behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against her shoulder as she looked at you, "Dont lie~" She added, giving you a sinister smile disguised as a sweet one. You took a deep breath, looking between the two of them before you nodded. "Fucking knew it~" Geto cooed, her smile becoming toothy as she released her hold around Gojo and slid between the two of you, sliding her hands under the thin gown against your upper thighs.

Gojo could be heard pouting out a "hey.." from behind the two of you. She leaned in close to your face, her sweet perfume clouding your senses. She licked her lips and gripped your thighs in her hands. "You like me?" She asked, pressing her shiny lips together in a smile. You breathed out a needy 'yes' against her lips, looking up between her eyes and her mouth. "Is this okay?" You asked.

You knew this wasn't exactly standard practice in.. well.. anywhere. And they were absolutely breaking every code in the book right now, but between the three of you, not one of you cared. "Is it okay?" She asked, scrunching her eyebrows at you. "Were all adults here." Gojo smiled, sitting against the arm of the chair as he watched the two of you.

When you nodded, Geto's lips were on yours. "Mmm! Mph-" You moaned against her lips when she wasted no time in making her tongue home in your mouth, she slid her hands to your waist and pulled you against her so you were pelvis to pelvis. "Gotta be quiet for me, okay?" She whispered in between kisses.

You nodded, vocalizing an 'uh-huh" aginst her lips before she climbed on top of you, pressing her knee against your cunt while she kissed you hungrily. You squeezed your thighs around hers, your knee simultaneously bumping against her mound, your leg pushing her dress up her thighs as exposing her panties to your hungry eyes.

"Fuck, this is so fucking hot." Gojo groaned, you cracked your eyes open and looked at him out of the corner of your eye, Geto took the opportunity to grip the bottom half of your face in her hand and tilted it to the side, facing Gojo, as she brought her lips down to your neck and started kissing and sucking the skin there. "Keep your eyes on him, sure hes jerking off right about now." She giggled against your neck, her other hand touching freely over your body.

Her intuition was spot on, the white-haired man was groping himself over his pants, and his white doctor's jacket had been discarded on the chair he was leaning against as he watched the show in front of him.

“D-Doctor Gojo,” you whined, squeezing your thighs harder around Geto’s leg as your arousal spiked watching him jerk off. “You like watchin me baby?” he asked, a drunken smile plastering itself on his face. “Y-yes” you replied, making him put his full weight on his feet as he walked towards you.

“Bet you’ll like touchin me even more.” The white haired man came up on the side of you and held your head in his hand as he pressed his thighs against the bed the two of you were on. Gojo reached for your hand and made you palm him over his pants while Geto turned your head back to her and kissed you once more.

The man’s big hand groped over yours and aided you in touching his cock through his slacks while Geto moaned into your mouth. He felt absolutely massive under your hand, you doubted even Gojo himself could wrap his hand completely around his cock. “Oh good fucking girl.” He praised, biting his lip while he watched the two of you go at it like animals.

Geto dropped her hand from your face and used it to massage your tit once more, paying more attention to your nipple now that she could stop disguising her shameless groping as a breast exam. "You're so sensitive here I don't know how you held out for so long." She teased, pulling her mouth back with a wet sound as she watched your face contort under her hands ministrations against your chest.

Your other hand came up to press her hand against hers, silently telling her not to stop. "Oh yeah? You like that?" She moaned, smiling at your silent plea. "Don't worry baby, Ill make you feel even better." She promised, using the tip of her middle finger to rub around the areola of your nipple, making your hips push up against her knee.

"We" Gojo corrected the dark-haired woman. "We will make you feel even better." The woman laughed, moving her eyes to focus on Gojo's while she leaned down against your chest and sucked the little bud into her mouth. She chose not to respond and instead oped to close her eyes as she hummed around your warm nipple, rolling and sucking it into her mouth, making sure to spend extra attention to the tip of your nipple with her tongue.

Gojo watched your body jerk and squirm against the bed while she alternated between your sensitive nipples; she used her other hand to grope the tit her mouth wasn't on, making sure it didn't feel lonely. Your hand went slack against his crotch, giving Gojo the time to pull away before he was unzipping his pants and pulling his cock through the hole in his boxers.

You moaned sharply when you felt him press your hand around something warm and hard. You instinctively wrapped your hand around it, making him coo at you as you looked over to watch what you were doing. "Yesss, stroke my dick, pretty girl." He smiled, using his big hand to run his fingers through your hair while you slowly and unsurely gave the handsome doctor a handjob.

Geto popped off of your tits after a while, staring down at her work as she admired the light purple hickeys that decorated your breasts along with your swollen nipples from all her sucking. "So fucking pretty," She praised, making Gojo hum in agreement. "I would looove to suck your tits all day, but your cunt has been pulsing against my knee for so fucking long I cant take it anymore." She said, crawling off from on top of you and sliding your panties down your thighs with her.

"Fuck yess." Gojo moaned, biting his lip. He really had no romantic interest in Geto, but you were both undeniably hot, and the thought of watching her eating you out and her making you cum on her tongue in front of him made his dick throb in your grip. "Pervert." Geto smiled smugly, rolling her eyes. "I'm only a man." He said, making her giggle as she pulled your body once more, to the edge of the bed. "W-what are you gonna do." You asked, looking down at the woman between your legs before looking over to the white-haired man on your side.

"Im gonna eat your pussy while you suck Doctor Gojo off, that sound okay to you guys?" She asked, smiling sweetly between the two of you. Both you and Gojo nodded quickly at her proposition, "I can't think of a better idea myself." He responded, dropping his other hand down to caress the head of his best friend. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics before she slung your thighs around her head, kneeling on the steps below the bed.

"You ever squirted before?" She asked you, making you sit up slightly to look at her, "N-no." You answered, making her smile mischievously before she bit your thigh hard, pulling the skin back before releasing it, "You will." She responded confidently. You had no doubt in your mind that she wouldn't. You turned your head back to the doctor, watching your hand stroke his cock while Geto had her way with your thighs.

"You ever sucked a cock before?" He asked, caressing your head comfortingly. His brain short-circled when he watched you look up at him from under your lashes, your doe eyes looking glassy, "Not one as big as yours." You said, dropping your eyes back down to his length. You thought dicks like his only existed in porn. You swallowed hard thinking about how you were going to fit him in your mouth. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." He assured, his abs clenchedwhen you rubbed your thumb over his tip, spreading the wetness down the length of his cock.

He brought himself as close as he could, cradling your head while you stroked his dick right in front of your face, just inches from your mouth. Geto was having the time of her life between your thighs, she was suckinng and biting every last bit of your skin to make sure that every time you looked in the mirror for weeks afterward, you would be reminded of what happened that day.

She brought her mouth closer and closer to where you needed her the most; her teasing making you squeeze your hand around Gojo's cock harder. "Fuck, such a pretty pussy." She mumbled to no one in particular. "If its so pretty, maybe you should eat it already~" Gojo teased, dying to see you squirm on her tongue and feel you moan around his cock while she ate you out.

Geto was constantly bragging to Gojo about her skilled tongue in bed, having seemingly endless stories about how she made guys and girls alike squirt like a fountain in record-breaking times, he was excited to finally see it in person. "Don't tell me what to do Satoru." She chastized--but listened to him anyways.

She leaned her head down between your legs and gave a precise kitten lick to your little clit, making you jolt. You wished you could watch her, but you had work to do yourself, the feeling of her hands wrapping around your thighs while she ate you out would have to do. You brought your own head closer to Gojo's cock and mimicked her actions on you, against him, kitten licking the tip of his dick.

"Yesss," Gojo groaned with a smile, not knowing where he wanted to look more as his eyes darted between your lips that were slowly but surely wrapping themselves around his cock, or in between your legs, where his best friend shook her head back and forth against your wetness, making your body jerk at the intense pleasure. "Holy shit, you're so fucking sweet." She whined against your cunt, sucking the little neglected bud into her mouth.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at her ministrations, the vibrations from her voice around your clit sent pleasant chills down your spine. Gojo watched with a slack jaw as you bobbed your head further down his dick, using your small hand to smear the spit you were creating down the length of his cock and jerk off what couldn't fit in your mouth from this angle.

You were grateful to have something plugging you up, because Geto's expert tongue was doing wonders for you, and you weren't sure how quiet you could've been without having Gojo's cock in your throat. This all felt like a fuzzy dream to you, because there was absolutely no way you were getting tag-teamed by your new physician and his hot nurse on top of this this hard hospital bed on a Thursday.

Geto's tongue quickly brought you back down to reality when she started drawing quick circles against your clit with her thumb, as she buried her face as deep as possible against you, tongue fucking your cunt and moaning against you shamelessly. "I don't think you're the one we have to worry about staying quiet." Gojo giggled down at you.

She pulled her mouth back from you, heaving air into her lungs as she spoke, "You're saying that without having tasted her." She said, before dropping her tongue back on you. Gojo wasn't sure how long she had been doing it, but at some point, her hand come down to play with her own needy cunt between your legs while she ate you out. He couldn't see exactly what she was doing because of his blocked vision by the table, but he could see her arm was moving rapidly underneath you.

"Must taste r-real good if she has you fingering yourself." Gojo teased, his words coming out in stutters when you tried to take his cock deeper in your throat, resulting in a gag that made your throat constrict around him. She just moaned in response, keeping up the delicious circles on your clit while she drank up every drop of your arousal that you gave her.

You brought your head away from Gojo's cock, popping your lips back with a lewd wet sound. "Y-you're so big D-doctor." You pouted, staring up at the man. He knew it was so wrong, so absolutely twisted, but when he heard you call him 'doctor' in this situation, it made a heavy drop of pre drip onto your hand. "Oh, you're fucking naughty." He giggled, starting to hump his cock in your hand, making obscene 'schlick' sounds emanate around the room.

You let yourself moan freely for a couple of seconds before your mouth was back on him. You made quick circles around the tip of his cock, rotating your tongue against him while making sure to pay special attention to the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. "What a fucking mouth~" He said, letting his jaw fall open as his head tipped back in a moan, trying his hardest not to release his load over your pretty face so soon.

His brain short-circuited when your other hand joined the mix, massaging his balls in the palm of your hand. "Oh fuck- just like that, don't fucking stopp." He moaned, gripping his nails harder against your scalp while you bobbed your head around his cock and played with his heavy balls in your hands with a delicious rhythm.

The truth was, Geto was rapidly bringing you towards what you knew would be a mindblowing orgasm, and you wanted to make Gojo cum before that, so you put all of your brainpower onto pleasuring him while the dark-haired woman between your thighs alternated between sucking your cit and finger fucking you, curling her fingers against your sweet spot; and tongue fucking you while she spelled her name on your clit with her fingers.

"Think she's gonna cum." Geto mumbled against your pussy, making Gojo groan in acknowledgment. "Fuck, I am too." He responded. "So fucking t-tight." She whimpered into your pussy, quickening the speed of the thrusts inside herself as she used the palm of her hand to grind her clit against it. "You gonna let me cum all over your pretty face? Huh?" Gojo asked, scratching his nails over your head.

You looked up at him through your lashes, your watery eyes trying their best not to roll back in your head as you nodded around him, giving your consent. "You're so fucking." thrust "Perfect." He grinned, giggling when you gagged particularly hard against his mean hips.

The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, you so desperately needed to see Geto’s face before you came; you knew it would push you over the edge. “Oh- S-shit-“ Gojo groaned, “C-can I fuck your throat? I’m so close, promise I’ll be fast.” The thought of him losing control and humping hi cock into your warm mouth sounded like just what you needed right now.

You shook your head to the best of your ability, dropping both hands from his cock as he grabbed your cheek with his other hand, getting a better leverage on you before he started fucking hi cock down your throat. You brought your hands down to the woman’s hair between your legs and dug your nails into her scalp, making her whine into your clit. “Mhm-mhm-“ she hummed against you while you used her head to hump your own hips against her face.

You fought back gag after gag as gojo used your mouth like his own personal flesh light, biting his lip and gritting his teeth while he focused his gaze intently on your lips that were swallowing up his cock. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to fall down your cheeks at his rough treatment on your throat.

“Good girl, good fucking girl- almost- fuck-“ Gojo groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as his pace grew sloppy on your throat. The lack of oxygen was bringing you closer to your orgasm, but you so desperately wanted to watch him cum before Geto made you cum first.

Gojo fucked the entirety of his cock down your throat, pressing jus balls against your chin while he grit his teeth, feeling himself twitch in your warm mouth. “Fuuuuuck-“ The white haired man groaned, pulling his hips quickly back from your mouth and letting you cough freely as you swallowed air into your lungs.

Your hips pace against Geto’s mouth was sloppy, your body stuttering as you moved while her lips suction cupped around your clit and teased it with her wet tongue. You turned your head to look down at her, making contact with her glassy eyes and her furrowed brows as she nodded at you, moaning against your wetness.

The sight sent you over the edge, you gripped her hair tightly between your fingers, your nails digging into her scalp in unison as you squirted all over her face. She pulled her mouth and hand she was working on herself back as she fucked her fingers directly into your sweet spot while rubbing quickly back and forth over your sensitive clit, making your juices spray on her.

Gojo stroked his cock next to your face furiously, looking down at your pussy as you squirted all over his best friends face. “Fuckk,” he groaned, grabbing your face in his hand he turned your head to look up at him.

Your eyes were foggy and all out of focus from how hard you came, your body still shaking and twitching from the orgasm as Geto’s fingers fucked you through the aftershocks. “Tongue out.” Gojo grit through his teeth, biting his lip when you quickly obeyed.

“S-shit-“ The doctor tipped his head back as his jaw fell slack. He tapped his cockhead on your tongue, laying it flat on it before he stilled his hand. His hot ropes of cum spurted into your mouth as he groaned freely, fucking his hips into his hand as some streaks of his cum landed on your cheeks and hair. “How pretty.” Geto whined from under you; referring to the painting gojo was creating on your face.

Gojo’s body jerked and jolted as he came all over your face, his head tipping forward towards the end of his orgasm as he squeezed his cock up to the tip, making sure he gave you every last drop of his cum. “Shiiiit” the man giggled, watching you lean your head up and suck his tip clean before you pulled back, letting your head fall against the hard bed as you licked his cum off your lips. “Could she be any more perfect?” he said to Geto.

You were too fucked out to notice that Gojo was still hard, even though he just came. Geto stood up from between your legs, sliding her tights and panties off in the process as she kicked them to some corner of the room. “Well let’s find out.” She answered, giving Gojo a quick smirk before she straddled your limp body.

Without so much as saying a word, she grabbed your cum covered face in her hands and licked Gojo’s cum off your cheeks, making you blush. “Cum hungry slut.” Gojo laughed at his best friend's shameless display of lust. “It’s not for me, freak.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Want this cutie to taste herself, and you when I kiss her.” She said, giving you no room to talk as she pressed her lips against yours.

“fuck yeahh~” Gojo laughed, a drunken smile spreading itself over his face while he watched Geto suck your tongue, making you taste yourself mixed with Gojo’s cum. She pulled back after a while, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as you stared at her with a fucked out expression, “How does that taste?” she asked, keeping her strong grip on your chin as she awaited your answer.

“‘S fucking good, t-thank you.” you slurred, your own aroused smile spreading across your face. She smiled at you, pressing her lips to yours once more in a sweeter kiss before she pulled back, humming when your hands came to rest on top of her thighs. "I know thats fucking right~" Gojo added, beginning to stroke himself again, shamelessly walking over to the bottom half of your body so he could stare at your soaked pussy and the wetness that was smeared all over your thighs.

"It's missing something though.." You continued, watching your hands stroke along her soft pale thighs. She tilted her head at you, waiting for you to continue. "I didn't taste you." You said. Your sudden bold words made her feel like a dozen butterflies had just been hatched and were bouncing inside her stomach. "Yeah? You wanna taste me?" She said, sitting up straight as she rubbed her fingers over your wet lips.

You opened her mouth for her and she slipped her fingers inside the warmth as you did so, her jaw dropping and a crimson blush spreading across her face at how eagerly you sucked down her fingers. "That's a good idea!" Gojo exclaimed, spreading your thighs apart as he pushed them over his shoulders, making himself home between your legs.

You couldn't see him very well because of Geto straddling you, but you felt his plush lips leave soft kisses and bites against your calf and ankle before you felt something else. His dripping cock head was tapping against your folds as he used one hand to slowly rub his cock back and forth across your wetness. "Wanna eat the pretty nurse out while I fuck your cunt? Huh?" Gojo said, making you hum in approval around Geto's fingers.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous. You had barely been able to take Gojo's cock in your mouth, how on earth would you fit him inside your pussy? "Pretty nurse?" Geto laughed, twisting her body to give Gojo a look of incredulousness. He reached out and squished her soft cheeks in between his hands, shaking her head back and forth a little as he did so, making her face go deadpan. "Yes~ You're such a pretty nurse~" He said, scrunching his nose at her childishly while he did so.

She used her free hand to smack his wrist away before her hand came to rub her own jaw and soothe it from his harsh grip. "I can't stand you," Geto said, rolling her eyes before she flipped her hair in his face, turning her body back to you to watch you suck on her fingers some more. Their banter eased some of the anxiety you were feeling, you were glad they weren't so serious. "And yet you're about to fuck this pretty girl with me~" Gojo cooed, gripping his large hand on the back of her neck as he rubbed his thumb against the skin there.

"I'm separating myself from you at this moment." She said, biting her lip in irritation as she let Gojo massage her neck, unwilling to tell him to stop as the sensation actually felt pleasant. She brought her full attention back down to you, popping her fingers out of her mouth before she crossed her arms over her body and pulled the long sleeve white dress off of her body, discarding it on the floor.

Her breasts bounced animatedly when she removed the fabric, her tits practically spilling out of her bra when she shimmied further up your body, now hovering over your collarbones in nothing but the white bra. You bit your lip as Gojo had begun pressing his cock against your clit and rubbed it in circles, sending pleasure to the both of you.

"Geto please." You wined, your mouth practically drooling with the sight of her cunt being so close to your mouth. "What do you need?" She asked, bringing her fingers wet with your saliva down to rub her clit above you. Gojo shook his head at the scene, stroking himself harder as he continued pressing his cockhead against your little bud. You clenched around nothing at the need to feel him inside you combined with the need to have Geto sit on your face already.

"Wanna eat you out, please." You moaned, wrapping your arms under her thighs as you tried to pull her down on your face. She smiled down at you, feeling herself grow wetter at your words. Gojo wasn't helping in the slightest, he used his thumb to spread your pussy apart and had started to press his tip against your hole, almost letting it slip in before he pulled back. "She sounds so good when she begs," Gojo said, keeping his eyes glued to where the two of you were about to be connected.

"I think so too~" Geto agreed, sliding her fingers down her pussy as she pressed her fingers against her opening, letting them slide inside herself as she tipped her head back. You watched with a slack jaw as she fingered herself on top of you, your mouth watered every time she pulled her fingers out and saw how they were coated with her wetness. "Gojo- Geto- please," You begged, needing to feel some sort of stimulation from someone.

"Gojo p-please fuck me- c-cant take it." you continued, looking between Geto's eyes and her dripping cunt as soft moans fell from her lips and flooded your ears. "Watching her get off is makin' you all horny huh?" He teased, watching your lower body squirm as you tried to press yourself against Gojo and slip his cock inside of you. "Y-yes" You felt the tears start to well up in your eyes with how bad you needed them, the sight made Geto furrow he brows and coo above you.

"Aww, Gojo, she's crying." She said, giggling. The man behind you let out a loud groan as he gripped his cock harder in his hold. "Fuck, really?" He said, his arousal very evident in his tone. "Maybe we should stop teasing her then." He said, pressing his tip harder against your entrance and making you think he was really going to give it to you that time. "Yesyesyes" You slurred, rolling your hips against Gojo as he finally let his tip slide inside you.

You accidentally let out a too-loud moan at the stimulation, making Geto 'tsk' down at you. "Shut her up Suguru, she's gonna get even louder in a minute." Gojo grit through his teeth, holding the base of his cock tightly to prevent him from cumming prematurely as he slid his cock deeper into your walls. Your chest rose and fell quickly the deeper he gave it to you, the ache in your pelvis slowly subsiding.

"Yeah yeah." She said, rolling her eyes before she removed her fingers from herself and licked them clean, moving her body up to straddle your mouth while she pressed her hands next to your head to steady herself. "Just so you know, if it were up to me, I would be teasing you for hours." She said smugly, before finally, finally dropping her weight and pressing her cunt against your mouth.

She did so a the perfect timing too, right when Gojo bottomed out. Meaning you moaned long and loudly against her cunt, making her shiver at the intensity of the vibrations. "Oh fuc-kk, so fucking tight." Gojo moaned, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes as he let the both of you adjust to the feeling and girth of him stretching out your walls.

You tried to squeeze your thighs together but to no avail, as Gojo held them apart, gripping your thighs that hung over his shoulders. Geto wasted no time in rocking her hips against your mouth, moving one of her hands to grip itself in your hair as your lips came to suck on her neglected clit. Her taste was just what you were missing, you wanted to keep your eyes on hers but the attention from the both of them was too much, making you roll your eyes back in your head.

"Oh s-shit." She wined, biting her lip as you ate her out with vigor. "Gonna move now," Gojo warned before he started up a brutal pace on your cunt. Loud squelches and slaps echoed through the small room with the intensity of his thrusts, making Geto chastise him, "G-gojo too f-fucking loud."

"I don't give a fuck," He groaned, dropping his chin as he stared down at your cunt, watching a ring of your cum form around the base of his thick cock. "I dare someone to say shit to me." The doctor added, dropping one of his hands down to where the two of you were connected as he started rubbing his thumb in delicious circles against your clit, making you wine and moan into Geto's pussy.

She was leaking so much into your mouth, so much so that you had no more doubts in your mind or anxieties about not being able to make her feel good. She was gasping and moaning on top of you, all of her snarky comments flooding from her brain at the way your tongue was fucking her stupid. She rocked her clit against the tip of her nose, making her stomach clench and her body jerk over you every time her hips humped forward.

"Fucking hypocrite." Gojo huffed out a short laugh, reaching his other hand around Geto's mouth as he covered it, quieting her moans as they became muffled against his palm. "Some noisy fucking ladies you are~" He cooed. The squelching between your legs increased as he fucked into you with more vigor. "You like bein' used like this? Huh?" Gojo asked, rubbing your clit with pinpoint precision and making your eyes roll back in your head. "Squeezin' me so tight down here feels like you're tryna milk me." The doctor laughed, his jaw-dropping in a small o when your cunt squeezed around him particularly hard.

"Too bad you're not on birth control now or id fill this pretty cunt up." He said, shaking his head in disbelief at how good you felt around him. Geto's moans increased when your tongue fucked into her deeper, Gojo's words heightening your arousal. "Bet you'd like that huh?" His filthy mouth continued. "Your doctor cumming inside your perfect little cunt while Nurse Geto fucks your face." His own eyes rolled back at his words, he felt his cock twitch with how badly he wished he could fill you up.

Geto's other hand that was stabilizing herself by your head came up to grip Gojo's wrists, the volume of her moans getting louder against the palm of his hand; simultaneously her hips started losing their rhythm on your face. "Shit" Gojo laughed, "Think you're gonna make her cum." He said, which made you increase your antic on her cunt, opting to suck her clit back into your mouth so she didn't have to strain her thighs by humping against your face.

That was the right call, her body stopped being able to grind against you the closer she got to her orgasm, her hips jolted and jerked against your mouth as she gripped harder onto Gojo's wrist. "Yeah yeah give it to her, cum in her fucking mouth." Gojo groaned, talking her through it while you encouraged her from below, moaning "mhm-mhm." Into her wetness.

Gojo pressed his balls as hard as he could against your ass as he fucked his cock to the hilt inside of you and stilled there, waiting for Geto's orgasm to finish. The woman could be heard moaning profanities mixed with your name into Gojo's palm as you sucked the orgasm out of her, her body curled in on itself as her high rippled through her. Every time she jerked forward, a bit of her cum spurted itself into your mouth. You slowed your tongue against her as her body's jerking got less and less frequent, until her shaking stopped altogether.

Gojo removed his hand from her mouth as she collapsed down on the side of you, breathing heavily. "Holy fuck, no one ever made me cum that hard." She confessed, clenching her thighs together in the aftershocks as you smiled at her drunkenly. "You're so pretty." She said, sliding her body down so she was laying the side of you, one knee thrown over your body as she caressed your cheek in her hand and combined your lips together in a kiss.

"Aww, so sweet." Gojo cooed, biting his lip and smiling before he resumed his pace on your cunt, making you pull back from the kiss as you moaned loudly. "Asshole, we were having a moment." Geto chastized, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior. "I was feeling left out." He whined, rolling his hips against yours and creating delicious friction against your sweet spot inside you. "That feel good?" He asked, finally being able to see your pretty, fucked out face.

"Y-yes, so good Doctor G-gojo." Once again, the inappropriate use of his title made his cock throb unreasonably hard; he wouldn't look too hard into it. "Fuck, you really are so pretty." He said, shaking his head at how gorgeous you looked with your pace covered in Geto's cum, your eyes all out of focus, and your hair going in every direction from the face fucking. "Geto," Gojo started, making the dark-haired woman lay her face against the crook of your neck while she looked down at him.

"Keep her quiet." He instructed once more. She did not need to be told twice. Lifting her head, she once again pressed your lips together and slotted your lips together slowly, tasting herself on your tongue. "S-so sweet." You whined, making her giggle against your lips. "Thank you, baby." She replied, swallowing up your moans as Gojo fucked you with more vigor.

"Shiiit, wish I was fucking recording this right now." Gojo wined, pulling his lip between his teeth, "You guys making out is so fucking hot." He said, rubbing his thumb on your clit harder and faster as he brought the both of you to your impending orgasms. The way your cunt pulsed rhythmically was the first clue that you were about to make a mess on his cock.

"S-shit, gonna squirt again? Huh? Gonna squirt all over my cock this time?" Gojo questioned, his teasing tone making the coil in your tummy tighten. You pulled back from Geto's lips, making eye contact with him. "Y-yes sir." You wined. The new name caught him off guard, but he was in no universe complaining. "Yeah? Good fucking girl let me see it then, wanna feel you cum all over my cock." He moaned, his hips stuttering as his pace lost its rhythm.

Geto cupper her hand over your mouth and stared her dark eyes into yours, "You can do it baby, cum all over him, just like you did on my mouth." You blushed at their words, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening before Geto was dropping her head down to your nipple, and sucking, and thats all it took.

"Fuck yeahhh~" Gojo moaned, rubbing his fingers back and forth over your clit as you came around his cock, your squirt wetting his abdomen and slacks alike with the intensity of your orgasm. Geto moaned around your nipple, her other hand coming to pinch the other between her fingers as the two of them worked you through it.

About halfway through your orgasm, Gojo pulled out. The doctor kept up his fingers against your clit, his movements getting sloppy as he jerked himself off over your tummy, "fuck- fuck cumming, cumming-" He warned before he released his hot seed on your tummy. His body jerked forward and his abs clenched as he spurted long ropes of his cum onto your skin, his eyes rolling back in his head as he pictured behind his eyelids that he was filling you up with his cum and not wasting it like this.

Despite that fact, he just had one of the most intense and satisfying orgasms he has ever had. "Holy fuck." The man groaned, his eyes rolling back into place from the back of his head as he came down from his high. He let your legs drop from his shoulders and onto the bed as his hands chased them, squeezing the fat of your thighs to stabilize himself.

The both of you breathed heavily into the small room, and the three of you stayed silent as you let your souls find their way back into your body, Geto popped off of your nipples after a couple seconds and rested her head against your collarbones while she waited for the two of you to calm down.

"Wow." Your voice could be heard throughout the room, breaking the silence, and making the two of them laugh. "Couldn't have said it better myself." Gojo snorted. "Oh shit, what about the other patients." You said panicked, sitting up on your forearms as the woman lying on your chest was pushed up with you. "Shhh, it's okay," Gojo cooed, rubbing your thighs as he ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "You were my last patient." He said, making you sigh in relief. "I think." He finished, making both you and Geto drop your jaws simultaneously.

"Youre so irrisponsibale." Geto said, shaking her head as she caressed your tummy. "Say that when you're not lying on the hospital bed naked and covered in cum with a patient." He said, tilting his head to the side as he let his eyes fall shut and smiled. She just narrowed her eyes at him as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants before he started to make himself look presentable again.

Once he was finished he gathered Geto's and your clothes from the floor and leaned over you, placing his hand on your thigh as he leaned his face just inches from yours, "You did so fucking well." He said before he leaned in and gave you a soft kiss before pulling away and staring into your eyes intimately, "Just in case you were having any doubts." He added before leaning away completely and turning to untie the curtain that blocked the three of you off from the rest of the room.

Geto made herself comfortable behind you as she watched Gojo tidy up the room, laying her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your naked body. "Are you guys gonna stay there forever or?" He asked once he had made the room look like three people didn't just fuck in it. Geto looked up at the ceiling, contemplating her answer before she answered, "Mmm, I think so, yeah." She finally said, kissing your shoulder and making you giggle before she slid out from behind you and started dressing herself again; making you follow her lead.

After you had gotten dressed again; and fixed Geto's hair per her request; Gojo cleared his throat before speaking, "I'll put in a good request for a transfer so you can follow up with a good friend of mine about that IUD." He said too formally, making you panic slightly. Of course, he didn't want you to be his patient anymore, it would be inappropriate, but damn did it hurt. "Did.. did I do something wrong?" You asked insecurely, making the two of them tilt their heads at you.

"Well, I don't know about Geto.." He started, making you hold your breath at the impending rejection, "But I like where this relationship is headed, so I don't think it appropriate for us to stay Doctor/Nurse and patient if want to see where this goes," He said, making Geto smile and nod in agreement, "If, that's something you want." He finished.

"You could've led with that." You said, heaving out a sigh that made the both of them laugh. "Yeah, that's my fault~" Gojo laughed, rubbing his large hand on the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rushing I just.." He scrunches up his face before speaking, "I guess I've been getting paged for the last half hour about another patient I allegedly had after you." He said, a nervous smile plastering itself over his face, making Geto facepalm.

"Scram, I'll take over from here and meet you in a second," Geto said, to which Gojo placed his hand on her shoulder and thanked her dramatically. The tall man walked up to you, grabbing your hips in his large hands before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, using his thumb to pull down your bottom lip when he pulled away. "Text me when you get that IUD and ill show you how good gettin' your pussy filled with cum can feel~" He said confidently, leaving a peck on your lips before he spoke one last thanks to Geto, and was out the door.

"I'll take good care of you, let's get our digits in that phone of yours and we can start on the transfer resuest~" Geto cooed, holding her hand out for you to place your phone in.

You might have left the building with one less doctor than you had when you came in, but you left with two potential partners, and that was more than fine with you.