#the gentle glow around her
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Finally having an opportunity to draw something is great °^°
And this time it's Nene! There are a lot of various pretty outfits in Project Sekai, and I definitely want to try to draw more of them in future, but this one suddenly attracted my attention, while initially I planned to draw something different XD And well, it was challenging, and I'm not 100% happy with how I drew the details and colors of original outfit, but I guess I just need to level myself up to unlock a skill for drawing something that cool&difficult (ง •̀_•́)ง Still, I really like how everything looks overall and feel a bit proud too, yay~
Also, I'm happy that I finally could try to draw something with Nene. Among all the Project Sekai characters she's probably my main favourite. She has just amazing energy of "Why am I surrounded by weirdos?" (literally her phrase) and being the only more or less normal person in her team, BUT those weirdos are her precious friends anyway, and they make her feel happy :3 It's always so heartwarming and amusing to look at their interactions, especially considering that Nene is actually soft and shy type of person, and the game's stories show really well, how such people start to shine around ones who are dear to them
#YOU TOHOUGHT I WAS DONE BUT TWITTER WORD COUNT IS NOT RESTRAINING THE ABSOLUTE INSANITY THIS ART HAS AFFLICTE ME WITH#I AM LIKE THOSE CARTOON CHARACTERS WHO'S EYES POP OUT AND STEAM COMES OUT OF THEIR EARS WHEN THEY SEE SOMETHING THEY LIKE#the friggin#the gentle glow around her#that makes her pop in front of the bg#and the folds in the fabric#and the shading on the skin#and the cute socks#and you can see all the patterns though the fabric layers aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#it's so so pretty тт_тт
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ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ!ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ʜᴄs ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
Nanami editors on TikTok are cooking a little too hard and now they got me all soppy about him ☹️
🎀 Husband!Nanami who’s manages to quell every single one of your outbursts without letting the situation scale into an argument. His way of approaching any relationship issues is just so inexplicably healthy, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Whether you’re panicking, lashing out, or even crying he is present. Anything you have to say tumbles out of your mouth and when you’re done, his arms do all the talking as he tugs you close, rocking you back and forth in a soothing motion. All your emotions fizz away and you’re left a mushy mess in his arms, sniffling and nodding your head as he finally starts to talk you into calming down.
🌼 Husband!Nanami who is a big believer in spoiling you. Your hair is always glossy, your skin seems to glow from within, and your nails and clothes are nothing short but impeccable. But he also believes in spoiling you rotten with love. He has to hold you when it’s just you two alone, sitting you in his lap as his hands keep a reassuring grasp on your hips. And as you cling your arms around his neck and press your nose against his pulse, the world is quiet and peaceful and you feel like you’re falling in love all over again.
🎀 Husband!Nanami who is a sucker for feeling you scratch his back. It sounds a little strange but after a stressful day of work, all he wants is to strip down and flop onto the bed, knowing that you’ll always appear and give him what he wants. You insist on doing this anyways, settling your body on his lower back and raking your freshly manicured nails down his back to elicit rewarding little sounds from him. Low groans, gentle sighs, and cooes of “love you, baby” leave his lips and make their way to your ears, making you feel all fuzzy inside.
🌼 Husband!Nanami who lets you do makeup on him during his days off. Perched in his lap with him back against the headboard, you carefully curl his lashes before applying an even coat of mascara to his stubborn lashes. It’s not much makeup but it honestly suits him well; a cushion foundation, some concealer for his under eyes, and cheek and lip tint, and mascara. The fact your husband was so comfortable within his own skin and masculinity that you could doll him up so cutely made you giggle like a fool. And once you finish the everyday look, he’s so quick to ask about all the products and techniques you used with genuine care for what you have to say.
🎀 Husband!Nanami who slowly but surely becomes a biter. It all started when you tried to bite his cheeks while cuddling, only to pout when you nearly hit into his cheekbones. Of course he had to return to favor and nibbled on the squish of your cheeks, making you burst into laughter and squeals. From then on he’s expanded, leaving purplish love bites upon your chest and when you’re both feeling a little cheeky, on your collarbone and neck as well. It makes him flush with a little shame when he thinks about it, but the silent display of possessive affection never fails to leave him grinning like a child when he’s alone.
🌼 Husband!Nanami who has a photo of you everywhere and makes it known to anyone asking that yes, that lovely lady is his wife. His lock screen is a snapshot of your hands after a spa nail, pretty pink nails and a golden band that is your wedding ring. There's a small pic of you in his wallet from the times you were just starting to date, caught in a frenzied laughter after being told a joke. Ooh, and if anyone asks who you are after seeing such photos of you, he’ll say with all his chest “that’s my wife in these photos. I love her very much,” all while having a rare smile in public on his face.
🎀 Husband!Nanami who loves you like there’s no tomorrow. Who holds your hand everywhere outside and watches over you with critical eyes, glaring at anyone who even remotely gives you a strange look. He’s a man that drags out every kiss, a hand on your neck as he gently groans into your mouth. Who hugs you so tightly you feel like you’re about to burst at the seams, thick and burly forearms encircling your waist as you snuggle against his chest. This is where you belong, the both of you: nestled in each other in a heart-to-heart embrace.
#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#nanami kento headcanons#husband!nanami#pookie come back#the kids miss you#:(((( <3#milly writes ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა#dividers by ianrkives#mari’s dividers 🍂
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Happy house || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: just a cute fic of the Cameron family being one big happy family and infatuated with you and Rafe’s daughter 🥰
Warnings: breastfeeding (?) apart from that this is all fluff
Word count: 1388
A/n: this was so cute to write 🥹🥹 loved writing the fact that the Cameron family is tight-knit and love one another
MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
divider be @yoonitos
“Got everything?” Rafe glanced back at you, his hands full with bags laden with mostly Mabel’s things. You hummed contentedly, one hand gently adjusting the bucket hat on Mabel’s head while her plushy little hands playfully reached for your face, her giggles filling the air.
“We’re not late are we?” You called out as the two of you boarded the Cameron’s luxurious yacht. “Hmm? Not really, they can wait,” Rafe grinned, glancing around as you shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “They’re here! They’re here!” Wheezie’s voice echoed excitedly from above deck, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps rushing towards you.
You shared an amused glance with Rafe as he shook his head affectionately. “Wheezie, slow down!” Sarah’s voice called out in a mixture of exasperation and amusement, just before Wheezie came bounding around the corner, closely followed by Sarah, Rose, and Ward.
“Hey!” You greeted them warmly, arms open for hugs all around. Wheezie and Ward gravitated towards you and Mabel, their faces lighting up at the sight of the youngest Cameron family member.
Wheezie squealed, bouncing up and down in excitement as she gently pinched Mabel’s cheek. “Hey, easy there,” Rafe interjected firmly, earning a glare from his younger sister, though you couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s okay, Rafe, she’s being gentle,” you reassured him with an affectionate smile, his protective nature endearing as always. “Wanna take her, dad?” you offered to Ward, who nodded eagerly. “May I?” he asked softly, reaching out to cradle Mabel in his arms.
“Of course you can, she’s your granddaughter,” you chuckled, leaning in closer as Mabel reached out to Ward, her little arms outstretched in anticipation. You moved closer to Rafe’s side, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you in close. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice low with admiration as he whispered, “They all look so happy.”
Jesus, Sarah. Stop shoving your phone in her face,” Rafe groaned, his tone edged with mild annoyance as he watched Sarah snap yet another 0.5 photo of Mabel. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the sight, knowing that it was always Sarah’s candid photos of Mabel that Rafe eventually looked back on with a chuckle.
“Send them to me,” you mouthed to Sarah, who winked in response, both of you giggling like schoolgirls. “What are you giggling about, hmm?” Rafe asked, looking down at you with a smile, his irritation quickly fading. “Nothing, nothing,” you said, your smile widening. “Just excited to get to the island and have lunch together as a family again.”
Rafe’s smile softened, appreciating how much you valued these family moments. Before he could say more, Rose chimed in, glancing at her watch. “Okay, I think we should move this upstairs, don’t you think?” she suggested. Everyone agreed, and the group began making their way up to the spacious upper deck. The Bahamas sun was bright overhead, casting a warm glow over the yacht.
“You know, if you ever need a babysitter, I’m right here,” Wheezie offered, linking her arm through yours as you ascended the stairs. She batted her eyelashes playfully, making you giggle at her antics. Rafe, close behind, scoffed. “Yeah, as if I’m letting you look after my kid by yourself.”
Wheezie rolled her eyes dramatically. “And why not?” Rafe gave her an incredulous look. “Remember the time you almost burnt down the house because you wanted to heat up chicken nuggets in the microwave?” Wheezie huffs, “That’s not fair!” She protests, her cheeks flushing. “I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to put metal in the microwave!”
Your jaw dropped in mock horror as you imagined the scene. “Exactly,” Rafe said, patting Wheezie’s head with a teasing smile. “You’re not looking after Mabel by yourself. End of story.” He walked away, leaving Wheezie pouting with her arms folded. You squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Maybe you can help out when I’m around,” you suggested, trying to lift her spirits. Wheezie perked up a bit, her eyes brightening at the idea. “Deal!” she said, grinning.
~
“Guys! You have to tan with me, the UV rays are insane right now!” Sarah called out from one of the outdoor loungers, her phone in hand as she checked the weather app. “I’ll be right there!” you shouted back, finishing up changing Mabel’s clothes. You handed her to Rose and Ward, who eagerly took over entertaining their granddaughter with coos and smiles.
Rafe trailed behind you, intrigued by the idea of getting some sun. He settled next to you on the lounger, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun wash over him.“How are your boobs not saggy?” Sarah suddenly blurted out as she watches you tie up your hair, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Sarah!” Rafe hissed, shooting her a disapproving look.“Shit, sorry. Is that a bad thing to ask?” Sarah’s face flushed slightly, realizing the bluntness of her question. You couldn’t help but laugh, finding the situation amusing. Sarah joined in, her laughter a bit more nervous.
“I’m just asking. All my friends said that your boobs begin to sag because your baby is always sucking on them,” she explained, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “Which one of your friends has a fucking baby at your age?” Rafe interjected, his expression one of pure disbelief.
“None of them. They were just saying that,” Sarah shrugged nonchalantly. You giggled, reaching over to rub sunscreen on Rafe’s face where he’d missed a spot. “I think it’s different for everyone. I mean, I hope mine don’t sag,” you said, glancing down at your chest and giving them a light, playful touch.
“You have such nice tits, it’s really unfair, ” Sarah sighed dramatically, leaning back and closing her eyes against the sun. Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly done with the conversation. “I’m putting my AirPods in,” he announced, inserting them with a huff as you and Sarah chuckled.
~
“Mabel, come here,” Rafe clapped his hands with a gentle yet encouraging tone. Mabel babbled happily, steadying herself before taking a few small, determined steps towards you and Rafe; you were nestled against his chest as you cheered her on.
“Keep coming, sweetie,” you cooed softly, your hands ready to catch her. Eventually, Mabel reached you and crashed into your waiting arms with a squeal. You kissed her chubby cheek affectionately, “Good job, baby girl!” You lifted her up in the air, as she squealed with joy.
Rafe took the moment to take a photo, capturing the pure happiness on both your faces. As Rafe looked through the many photos already taken, you couldn’t help but notice how Mabel lingered close to your chest.
“Are you hungry, bels?” You asked gently, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Glancing at your phone, you noticed it was about time for Mabel’s next feeding.
With Rafe still focused on his phone, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked through the photos of you and Mabel, you adjusted your bikini top and began to nurse Mabel.
Noticing the quietness, Rafe briefly looks down, his eyes widening slightly. “Jesus, kid,” he muttered under his breath, quickly reaching behind him to grab his shirt.
“What? Mabel was hungry,” you said innocently, as Mabel peers up to the both of you. Rafe didn’t mind you breastfeeding in public, if his baby girl was hungry, she was hungry. But he always made sure to help you cover up with a blanket when you puly down your top, his protective instincts kicking in.
Rafe’s gaze darted around, making sure no one was watching. “You should’ve let me know beforehand so I could’ve helped you cover up,” he murmured, adjusting the shirt and to peek at Mabel.
You chuckled softly, appreciating his concern and love. Mabel watched the two of you with wide, curious eyes as she nursed contentedly. "Next time I will," you assured him, reaching over to pat his thigh affectionately.
yourusername
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Liked by itssarahcameron, christoper_thorton, rosejcameron and 85,208 others
@/rafemfcameron we’ve got the cutest baby 🥰
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rafemfcameron: damn right mamas
↘️ eloise_cameron: I just puked 🤢
↘️ rafemfcameron: throwing u off the boat
itssarahcameron: SQUISHY
↘️ rafemfcameron: are you calling my kid fat?
↘️ yourusername: HAHAHAHAHA
christoper_thorton: guys let me babysit her again
↘️ yourusername: you tried offering her one of your brownies top….
↘️ rafemfcameron: im sorry, he did what?
#drew starkey#rafe cameron#fanfiction#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron imagine#dad!rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#rafe obx#obx imagine#obx x reader#ward cameron#sarah cameron#rose cameron#wheezie cameron#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#rafe cameron fluff
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the boy is mine - r.c.
(blurb, 1.4k words, season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader)
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summary he's got finally got his shit tight, but now everybody wants him, and that just won't do...
content fem receiving oral, 18+ minors do not interact
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The sun was hot and angry, casting a golden glow on Rafe as he cracked another beer and threw it back. You watched his tall frame from your beach chair, lip between your teeth as you took in the sharp panes of his stomach. You squirmed slightly while your eyes tracked the little trail of hair that led lower, lower…
But you weren’t the only one looking.
The music bumped through someone’s speaker as a group of bikini-clad girls pulled up their chairs and umbrellas right next to your group’s coveted spot.
Your friend leaned over in her beach chair, “think someone’s got eyes for your man.” You followed her nod to the gaggle of bottle blondes with fake tans who were whispering to each other and smiling in his direction.
“That’s cute,” you snorted.
Rafe was none the wiser to their stares, reaching his hand down to help you to your feet, pulling you toward the water behind him.
“Think you’ve got some fans,” you told him once you were bobbing in the waves, your arms around his neck as he crouched low to meet your eyeline.
He smirked, “maybe I should go sign some autographs.”
You smacked his shoulder, making him laugh despite your pouty frown. He stood from the water, lifting you with him so they could see your legs wrap around his waist. He grabbed your ass, holding you up with ease as his lips found yours.
The girls on the beach were suddenly very busy checking their phones and setting up umbrellas, disappointed looks on their faces as Rafe showed you off.
Back at his house, Rafe lead you into the outdoor shower, turning on the lukewarm water to wash the sea and sand from your body. When he caught you frowning, he tapped the side of your head gently, his signature way of asking what’s on your mind.
“I’m glad you’re so successful, I just don’t like that everybody suddenly wants what’s mine,” you explained.
He looked down at you, eyelids low as his gaze traveled over your body. His hands slid up your sides slowly, thumbs slipping under the thin string of your bikini top, sweeping over your ribs.
“So possessive,” he smirked.
“Just think everyone should know you’re off limits by now,” you whispered, stepping closer to him until you were chest to chest.
You nudged your nose against his neck, guiding him to tilt his chin up and reveal his throat to you. Your lips started out soft, tickling him with little kitten licks between each gentle kiss. When you reached his Adam’s apple, you let your teeth graze over the sensitive skin. Rafe winced, his obvious erection pressing against your belly and making you hungrier for him than ever.
Finally, you sucked harder, right where his neck meets his broad chest. After a few moments of pressure, you pulled back and wiped the glossy spit from your lips, smiling in satisfaction at the purple-blue mark you left on him. You moved to leave another, but he interrupted you.
“Bet those girls on the beach wouldn’t tease me this much,” he grumbled.
You responded by wrapping your fingers around his throat. He chuckled smugly under your hold, deep vibration tickling your palm. It’s merely a symbolic gesture, your small hand doesn’t even fit half way around his neck. You squeezed harder, but he was still smiling. You narrowed your eyes at him, no more fucking around.
Your hand snaked up higher, around to the back of his neck. As you ran your fingers up over his buzzed hair, you let your nails scratch enough to raise goosebumps along his skin. When you reached as high as you could go, standing up on your tiptoes and still nowhere near matching his height, you pressed his head down hard, nails digging into his scalp.
Rafe stumbled for just a second before understanding the assignment. He lowered to his knees slowly, shuffling forward until your back brushed against the wall, the water from the shower cascading over your shoulders and down your body.
“Bet those girls on the beach couldn’t make you drop to your knees without saying a single word either,” you taunted him.
He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in, pushing you back against the wall hard.
“Tell me who else, baby,” you continued, “who else can put big bad Rafe Cameron on his knees? Hmm?”
His stare was icy as he looked up at you from the ground. You returned your hand to the top of his head, redirecting his gaze to your bikini bottoms.
“Show me who you belong to, baby boy.”
You could tell he was considering fighting back, the desire for control almost tempting enough to bring him back to his feet. But then he saw the growing wet spot over your center. Licking his lips, he nodded slowly, like a king admiring his feast.
His long fingers untied your bathing suit strings one at a time, causing the thin fabric to fall away and leave you bare in front of him. You lifted one foot to his shoulder, lowering him even further.
Rafe looked up at you, eyelashes fluttering over his pretty blue eyes as he spread you with his first and middle finger, his tongue flicking between them and hitting right where you needed it to.
“Exactly like that,” you sighed, head falling back so the water from the showerhead ran through your hair like a waterfall. “You know just what to do.”
No rush, he took his time. This was his house. He could take you on any surface, in any room, at any time. And he would. But first he was gonna make you come on his tongue right out in the open air.
He’d developed this whole neighborhood, practically running this half of the island at this point. All these new houses were filled with people who owed him money. He runs this shit, and yet here he was, on his knees for you. The thought was so fucking hot, you had to bite back your moan.
“Nah let it out, angel,” he coaxed between sharp licks to your clit. “I want you to scream ‘til the neighbors hear, yeah?”
You smiled big at that command, “you want all your new neighbors to hate you?”
“I don’t care what they think as long as their checks clear.”
He lowered his mouth to your entrance, lapping you up, grinding his nose back and forth on your clit until he was completely buried, covered in you. You couldn’t even feel the water falling on you anymore, your skin on fire with pleasure. Rafe’s hands slid up your thighs and over your stomach, before slipping under your bikini top and palming your tits with perfect pressure.
As instructed, you let your moans and cries fly. When he let one hand fall from your chest so he could slip two fingers inside you, curling at the knuckles and tapping the tips against your g-spot, your whole body trembled.
“Mmm, that’s perfect,” you praised. “You gonna make me come all over your face?”
“Fuck yes,” he groaned, licking a long stripe across your clit. “Make a mess for me, baby.”
He circled back, dragging his tongue the other way as his fingers danced along your walls. Your foot pushed hard against his shoulder, like you were trying to stomp him out, but he held himself up against you, the burning stretch in your thigh only adding to the intense pleasure.
“Oh my god! Yes, yes Rafe!”
You soaked him, one hand on his head and the other digging into the flesh of his shoulder as you came.
When you finally cooled down, body weak and wrung out with pleasure, he stood and guided you even further under the cool stream of the shower. He rubbed his hand along your inner thigh, letting the remnants of your high wash down the drain.
“Now why the fuck would I need any other girl when you give me that, huh?”
“That’s right, baby,” you agreed with a blissed out grin. “I got so much more for you, too.”
Rafe carried you into the house, and he didn’t even have to ask for you to get on your knees.
Before you started, he made sure all the windows were wide open so everyone in the neighborhood could hear exactly who he belonged to.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#rafe fic#obx fic#drew starkey#rafe fanfic#rafe obx#obx 4#rafe cameron smut#rafe Cameron x you#rafe Cameron x y/n#rafe Cameron imagine#rafe Cameron season 4#obx#obx smut#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction
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Love Beyond History
Emperor Geta x Reader
Summary: All husbands must love their wives. The Emperor was no exception.
In the magnificence of Ancient Rome, there existed a love story that defied expectations.
It revolved around Emperor Geta, a notorious figure known for his insatiable thirst for blood in the gladiator games, and his beloved wife, a gentle soul who despised violence.
As the sun cast its golden glow upon the Colosseum, Geta and his wife, you, found yourselves surrounded by a roaring crowd, eagerly awaiting the sensation that unfolded before you.
Gladiator games.
The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of sweat mixed with the metallic smell of blood.
While Geta enjoyed the brutality of the games, you struggled to moderate your own emotions with the darkness of said games.
Amidst the clamour and the rising heat, you felt a wave of sickness washing over you. You were sitting beside Geta, his brother watching from his own chair.
The sight of blood and the overbearing atmosphere became too much for your heart to bear.
Your face paled, and your breathing grew shallow.
As if sensing your distress, Geta turned to you.
With a concerned look, Geta gently took your shaking hand in his own.
He led you away from the frenzy, finding comfort in a secluded corner where the noise of the Colosseum was muted and it was a bit colder.
His voice, soft and soothing, whispered words of comfort and love into her ear.
"My Darling. It is probably way too hot for you, and also the blood. I know how much you dislike it."
"Geta. I'm sorry." you whispered as you finally felt like you could breathe.
"No need for it. I only wished for you to share the same love for the games as I do. But I see it now, this really is not for you."
"I'm truly sorry." Moved by his tenderness, you looked into his eyes, realizing the depth of his affection.
At that moment, Geta sealed his devotion with a tender kiss on your forehead.
It was a gesture that spoke volumes, an affirmation of his love for you.
As the night arrived in Rome, Geta and you retired to your chambers after dinner.
The flickering candlelight danced upon your faces, illuminating the room with a warm glow.
It all filled your heart with such happiness.
You believed, that in this room, you were only a wife and a husband, nothing less, nothing more.
No Rome, no power, no titles.
Just a man and a woman.
Geta, captivated by the beauty and kindness in you, watched you as you peacefully slept.
The Emperor rolled onto his side watched your face in the candlelight as you faced him.
Overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions, he was awestruck by the fortunate turn of fate that had brought you together.
Even if it wasn't fate. It was all him.
His selfish nature declared you as his wife the moment your eyes met his.
But in that moment, he realized that his love for you had transformed him. Softening the edges of his bloodthirsty nature and revealing a gentler side.
With a heart full of appreciation, Geta whispered silent words of adoration into the night.
He vowed to cherish you, to protect you from the darkness that lurked beyond the chambers.
And so, your love story continued to unfold, defying the expectations of a bloodthirsty emperor and his gentle wife.
It was the kind of love that exceeded history.
People the upcoming centuries learned about the brutal Emperor Geta and his beloved wife.
Truly a love story worth learning about.
Taglist:
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#emperor geta#emperor geta x reader#emperor geta x you#emperor geta fanfic#emperor geta x female reader#gladiator ii#geta#emperor geta x fem reader#emperor geta x y/n#emperor geta imagine#emperor geta imagines#emperor geta fanfiction#gladiator 2#gladiator ll#gladiator movie#gladiator x reader#gladiator emperor geta#geta x reader#geta x you#geta imagine#geta imagines#geta fanfiction#geta fanfic#fluff
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Dreaming of Peaches - Bang Chan
Bang Chan has a dream of little curls and your eyes.
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It had been a strange day. Chris had been acting a bit off, nothing too alarming, but enough for you to notice. He was quieter than usual, his touches lingering just a bit longer, as though he was lost in thought every time he looked at you. It wasn’t unusual for him to have moments of introspection, but today felt... different.
Later that evening, as you were settled in your bed, you felt his arms snake around your waist from behind. He pulled you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. His hand, warm and steady, came to rest on your stomach. It was comforting, and yet, there was a nervous energy about him.
“Chris,” you murmured, placing your hand over his. “Are you okay? You’ve been... distant today.”
There was a pause. You felt him shift slightly, his hand retreating as if it had been caught somewhere it wasn’t meant to be. That small movement made you turn around to face him. His eyes flicked away, uncharacteristically avoiding yours. That alone was enough to make you tilt your head in confusion.
“Hey,” you said softly, taking his hand in yours. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything if you want.”
His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He looked almost embarrassed, his ears tinged pink, and he ran a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze. “I... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s... kind of silly, really.”
Your reassuring look must have encouraged him, because he sighed and began to ramble. “I had this dream last night. You were pregnant... and we had a little girl. She was running around, and she had my stupid curly hair and your eyes. And – I don’t know – it felt so real. When I woke up, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t want you to feel pressured, or like I’m... pushing something on you, or that—”
“Chris,” you interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. He stopped mid-sentence, looking at you with wide, almost vulnerable eyes. “I don’t know what the future holds for us,” you admitted, your voice steady. “But if it’s with you, I’m not scared.”
There was a beat of silence before a smile broke across his face, soft and boyish. “She had your eyes,” he repeated, a hint of awe in his voice. “And the curliest little head of hair, just like mine. And—” He chuckled, his voice warming with amusement. “you had this little baby bump. Like, the cutest little bump I’ve ever seen.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the tension dissolve into something tender and warm. “The bump, huh? That’s what stood out to you?”
Chris’ ears turned a shade pinker as he grinned sheepishly. “I mean, yeah. You were glowing, and you kept resting your hands on it like it was the most precious thing in the world. I guess it just stuck with me.”
You looked at him thoughtfully, gently brushing a strand of his hair away. “Dreams can be silly, but can also hold wants of the heart. If ours don’t align, we should always be honest with each other. No matter what.”
Chris’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “You’re right. And hey, don’t worry, I’ve already got seven kids to take care of,” he said with a mischievous grin.
You laughed then raised an eyebrow, a thought hitting you. “By the way… what did we name the child?”
Chris paused for a moment, then let out a dramatic sigh. “I think we called her … Peaches,” he said, grinning like he had just solved the biggest mystery of the century.
You blinked at him, unable to hold back your laughter. “Peaches? Really?”
“Hey, it was your idea,” he teased, winking.
You gasped, still laughing, and held up your hands in protest. "Nonono, we are not naming our kid something like that," you said, eyes wide with disbelief.
Chris chuckled, the mischievous glint in his eyes never fading as you protested. But before you could argue further, he leaned in, silencing you with a gentle kiss. His lips were soft, a mix of affection and amusement, and the warmth of his touch sent a ripple of calm through you.
Shaking his head he mouthed the words "our kid" – almost as if he was testing the idea out in his own mind, as if it was too surreal for him to say aloud.
masterlist
#bang chan imagines#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#bang chan scenarios#stray kids scenarios#bang chan#stray kids#skz#skz scenarios#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#stray kids fluff
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WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK
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you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.
🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6
pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader
genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni
content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy
word count 8.9k
banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .
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North Star Pavilion, Seoul
Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.
The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.
Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.
“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.
Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”
“I’ll see you after the show, J.”
Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.
For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.
But you don’t let it.
The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.
The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.
Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.
This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.
Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.
Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.
Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.
It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.
So fucking stupid.
You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.
“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.
Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.
You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.
“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.
“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.
You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.
Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”
“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”
His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.
“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.
His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.
You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.
He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.
Until you heard it.
“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”
Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”
“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”
The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.
“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”
The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.
He followed, of course.
Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.
And now, here you are.
Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.
No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.
The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?
Whatever.
Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.
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The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.
The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.
You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.
He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.
By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.
“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”
You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.
Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.
“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”
You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”
Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”
You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.
“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.
“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”
He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”
“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”
Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”
“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.
The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.
You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.
It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.
Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.
He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.
He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.
By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.
He wasn’t.
That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.
While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.
Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.
Maybe.
Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.
“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.
“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”
You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.
She lingers.
He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.
Slut. The both of them.
Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.
His gaze catches yours from the stage.
You look away.
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The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.
The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.
Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.
“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.
You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.
The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”
You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”
Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.
The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”
You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.
From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.
Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.
Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”
The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.
Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”
You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.
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The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.
They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.
Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.
Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”
You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.
Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.
Then you see her.
The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.
Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.
But she doesn’t move.
She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.
Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.
Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.
The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”
“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.
Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.
He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.
But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.
You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.
You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.
Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.
She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.
Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.
Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”
You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.
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The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.
You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.
“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.
He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.
The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”
It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.
When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.
Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”
Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”
Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”
Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.
“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.
Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.
You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”
“What did he do?”
You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”
He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” you nod.
His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”
Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”
His brows pinch. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“Baby—”
“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”
His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.
“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”
“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”
His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”
He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.
“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.
Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”
His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.
“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.
He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.
“And what do you want, baby?”
You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.
“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”
His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”
Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.
But you know better.
There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.
His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.
Then you pull back.
His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.
“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.
“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.
You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.
“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”
“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”
“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”
The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”
Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”
One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”
A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.
“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”
Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”
His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”
“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”
Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.
“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”
“Yes!”
You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.
When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.
“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.
“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”
You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.
“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”
Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.
“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”
You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”
His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.
A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.
“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.
His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.
Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.
His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.
“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.
“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”
“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”
His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.
“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”
“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”
“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.
He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.
The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.
You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.
Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.
Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.
Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.
One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.
Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.
“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.
“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”
Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.
Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.
Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”
The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.
You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.
Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.
“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.
The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.
You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—
“Uh… J-Jungkook?”
You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.
There is no fucking way.
Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.
You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”
Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”
He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”
Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.
His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”
The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”
Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.
“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.
The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.
Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.
He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.
“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”
“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”
Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.
He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.
“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”
He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”
“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.
Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.
You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”
“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.
You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.
Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.
His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.
“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”
“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”
Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.
“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.
“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”
He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”
You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.
“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.
Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.
Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”
You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”
He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.
Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.
“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”
Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.
“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.
He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."
You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.
His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”
He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.
The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”
“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”
He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.
“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”
Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.
The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.
“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”
He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”
“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”
You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.
“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”
“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”
A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.
“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”
“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”
Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”
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sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips
#🦌: christmas & chill#📁c&c: witc#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook oneshot#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x original character#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fic#bts series#bts x reader#bts#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts x fem!reader
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AND softdom lando with slightly unexperienced reader!!!! kill me nowwwe it cannot live only in my head
Nothing less | LN⁴
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💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── No, cause you know what, anon? Let me do something about it real quick (I changed some things around on purpose, because I either go hard or go home lmao). ENJOY 💋
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𐙚 summary ──── It's their first time together, and Lando takes the lead, ensuring every touch and word is focused on her comfort and pleasure.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x virgin!reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 catetegory ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, reader's first time, new relationship dynamics, soft dom!Lando, fluff & smut, descriptive language, swearing, unprotected sex, subtle exploration of emotional and physical trust in an intimate setting.
𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k
𐙚 date ──── Dec. 26, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── Gentle reminder that I know I have a lot of requests I need to take care of, and they are going to be dealt with, slowly but surely. Thank you for your patience 😁🤍
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SHE THINKS SHE should tell him, but she doesn’t know him well enough to be sure that Lando isn’t easily scared — or worse, that he wouldn’t walk out on her the second her little secret gets out.
They’ve only been dating for two weeks, but somehow it feels longer than that. Obviously, they’ve talked about sex before — casually, the way new couples do when everything still feels exciting and full of possibilities. But she never told him outright that she’s a virgin. He never specifically asked, and she didn’t see a way to bring it up without making things awkward.
In the midst of her chaotic thoughts, two things are certain: 1) she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and 2) there’s no doubt he likes her. She sees it in the way Lando looks at her, and she feels it in the way his hands touch her: sometimes by accident, other times with intent.
That's why she doesn’t want to burden him with expectations or make him feel like he has to change to meet some unspoken standard. She wants him as he is: unfiltered, imperfect, and real.
It's almost midnight, and the room is drenched in a quiet intimacy, the only sound coming from the muted hum of the city outside. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against hers with deliberate slowness. The soft golden glow of the bedside lamp illuminates his face, accentuating the way his lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts teasing and tender.
“You’ve been quiet,” he murmurs, his voice a smooth drawl that makes her stomach flip. His thumb strokes over her palm, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “That nervous?”
Her breath catches in her throat, feeling it closing in from the inside, but she nods, not trusting her voice.
“That’s okay, baby,” says Lando gently, leaning in. The warmth of his breath fans against her skin as his lips ghost over her jawline. “I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”
She nods again, her heart thudding against her rib. But the way Lando is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters, eases some of the tension coiling in her chest.
She really thinks that she should tell him—
“Words, love,” he interrupts her thoughts, his tone soft yet firm. Lando's hand tilts her chin up so she’s looking directly at him. “I need to hear you, so I know we're on the same page.”
“Yes, Lando,” she replies back, his name dripping from her mouth like honey. “I want this with you.”
His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes — desire tempered with a bit of restraint. “Sweet girl,” he says softly, the praise rolling off his tongue like a caress.
She closes her eyes, the words making her cheeks flush, but they also spark something inside her, a yearning she’s never felt so acutely before.
The air between them feels charged with so much expectancy. She knows where this is heading, can feel it in the way his eyes linger on hers, in the heat of his touch that seems to burn through her skin. The thought alone forces a wave of excitement rolling through her. At that, her body reacts before her mind catches up — her breaths quicken, her thighs press together instinctively, and a warm, insistent ache blooms low in her belly. She’s wet already, just from the anticipation, her thoughts spiraling into images of Lando gasping for air above her.
She shakes her head to push those thoughts away, just as he pulls her closer, his hands steady and confident as they frame her face. When he kisses her, his lips are so soft, moving against hers in a way that leaves no room for doubt. He’s in control, but he’s also completely attuned to her.
“If you need me to stop,” he says against her lips, “If anything feels wrong, just tell me, and we'll talk about it. Gonna need your words for this, yeah?” he continues as she nods again, making Lando puff out a small giggle, “What did I say?”
Words. Right.
“I promise I'll tell you,” she says, her voice tinged with nervousness.
He hums in approval, his hands sliding down to her waist. He moves her gently, guiding her to lie back on the bed as he leans over her. His movements are measured, his touch firm but never overwhelming. When his hands skim beneath her shirt, she tenses for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, and Lando immediately freezes.
“Hey,” he says softly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Too much?”
“No,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just— I’ve nev—”
He doesn’t let her finish. His thumb strokes soothing circles against her hip as he leans down to kiss her again, silencing her nervous stammer.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’ll go slow, alright? You and I. Just trust me.”
His words are like a balm, and she finds herself relaxing under his touch. He takes his time removing her shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as if to reassure her with every move.
“You’re fucking stunning,” he says, his voice low and reverent.
Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for him, and he lets her take the lead for a moment, watching her with a quiet intensity as she unbuttons his shirt. She fumbles slightly, and he chuckles, the sound soft and warm.
“Relax, love. It’s just me,” he says, leaning down to kiss her temple; a small act of tenderness that somehow steadies her racing heart.
The warmth of his lips lingers, grounding her in the moment as her nerves begin to settle. When there's no barrier left between them, Lando's hands explore her body patiently, every touch giving her goosebumps. Then, his fingers travel lower, slipping between her legs, and he freezes in place, his breath hitching.
“Ah, shit,” he mumbles mostly to himself, almost in awe when he realizes how much of a mess she is already. “So eager, you're soaked. I could just slip right in.”
The words send a bolt of heat through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement, but they also give her enough courage to take action. Summoning all her nerve, she reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his cock with a tentative but determined grip.
She guides him to her entrance, her voice quiet but impatient as she whispers, “Then do it.”
Suddenly, that's more than enough for Lando to let his instincts take over.
He exhales sharply as he pushes forward, the heat of her drawing him in inch by inch. The sensation of her wrapped around his length nearly undoes him — soft, tight, and impossibly warm. His jaw clenches as he stills for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He presses his forehead to hers, his voice strained but tender.
“So damn tight around me, baby,” he gasps softly, his hand coming to rest on her hip. “How's it on your end? Can I move?”
She nods quickly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she adjusts to the sweet stretch. “It’s—”
Good. Perfect. Heaven.
“Didn’t feel as big in my hand,” she ends up saying, making Lando laugh in a high-pitched voice.
“Not sure weather it's a compliment or an insult,” he admits, amused.
“Just give me a sec,” she whispers, though there’s a slight trace of uncertainty in her tone.
His thumb begins to stroke soothing circles on her hip, and he kisses the corner of her mouth. “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her.
She lets out a shaky breath, her body gradually relaxing around him. With one hand, she traces the contours of Lando's face, studying every micro expression, every mole, and the way his breath hitches as she welcomes him in.
“You're perfect,” she says softly, her cheeks flushed with warmth. “Can you fuck me now?”
Lando whines, pulling back slightly before easing forward again, setting a slow, careful rhythm. The friction is intense, almost overwhelming, and he groans quietly, his grip on her hips tightening just a fraction.
Her lips part as a soft moan escapes her, and she tilts her head back, instinctively pushing her hips to meet his movements. “Lando,” she breathes, her voice a mix of need and disbelief.
He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, his tone laced with affection. “Tell me what you like, what feels good. Let me hear you, baby.”
“You,” she manages, her fingers threading through his hair. “It feels so—You feel so good. All of it, please.”
The corners of his mouth raise into a small, breathless smile. “Such a good girl, aren't you?” he praises, leaning down to kiss her neck as he resumes his thrusts. “You’re doing so well for me.”
Her nails dig lightly into his back, her confidence growing with each movement.
“Faster,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a foreign desire.
His brows raise slightly as he slows down, just to tease her. “Faster? You sure about that?” he asks, his voice taking on a playful edge.
“Lando,” she repeats his name, louder this time, her hips rolling against his.
“You want it that bad?” he says in slight disbelief, his movements speeding up just enough to draw a louder moan from her. Lando studies her closely, his gaze softening even as his control threatens to slip. “Look at you, fuck. Let me take care of you. Let me—”
He swallows his words as his starts thrusting into her, firmly but never rough, his touch always calibrated to her responses.
“God, you’re taking me so well,” he says, his lips brushing against her ear. “So hot and tight around me. Feels right, hm?”
Her breathing quickens at his words, her body responding in ways she doesn’t fully understand but craves nonetheless. His hands trail lower, and she arches into him instinctively, another whimper escaping her lips.
“I know, baby,” he says, his voice thick with approval. “Keep me inside.”
Lando’s rhythm falters, then slows to an almost torturous pace. Before she can question it, he drags his cock out of her entirely, leaving her pussy clenching around nothing. A cry slips from her lips, desperate and aching, but he doesn’t give her time to protest. His length glides up between her slick, puffy folds, spreading the wetness everywhere, his movements calculated and teasing.
Not to mention evil.
“Lan...” she whines, her nails digging into his back as frustration and need overwhelm her. She isn’t gentle, her fingers pressing hard enough to sting, and he lets out a low hiss.
At the sudden pain, Lando stops entirely, his eyes snapping to hers, dark and intense. “Careful, baby,” he warns, his tone soft but laced with authority.
Sitting up slightly, he reaches for a pillow, lifting her hips with ease and sliding it beneath her lower back. When he thrusts back into her, it’s maddeningly slow, as if he wants her to feel everything. His hand moves to her stomach, pressing down lightly as he fucks his cock inside her. The sensation sends shockwaves through her body, and she cries out, her voice high and pleading as the pressure amplifies the pleasure.
“Feel that?” he asks, his voice rough with arousal. “Feel how deep I am?”
She can only nod, tightening her legs around him, her body trembling as she grips the sheets for support. But curiosity and the overwhelming sensations push her to rise onto her elbows, needing to see what he’s doing to her. Her gaze drops to where their bodies meet, and that’s when she sees it — the way her lower abdomen rises and falls slightly with each of his deep, measured thrusts.
Her breath catches, her eyes widening in awe. “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Is that…?”
Lando notices her reaction immediately, his own gaze following hers. The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk, but his eyes burn with something primal. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs, tightening his hands around her waist, holding her steady. “Yeah, that’s me inside you.”
The realization sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her, and Lando seems to sense it. His grip on her waist tightens further, and he begins to move harder, his hips snapping against hers with a rhythm that’s still controlled but far more intense.
The room fills with the slik sound of her pussy as Lando thrusts in and out relentlessly, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into him.
“Let me feel you,” he growls, his voice deep. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you,” he repeats, over and over again.
She wraps her arms around Lando, pulling him closer to have something to support her. The way her pussy sucks at his cock, desperate and insistent, sends him careening over the edge before he can even process it.
“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, his voice breaking as his hips stutter, spilling into her with a throaty moan. He can get drunk on the way she grips him, her heat, her hunger — every part of her pulling him into pure bliss.
His forehead drops to hers, their shared breaths mingling as they pant and moan together, riding out every wave of pleasure as they hit.
Her nails are still buried in his back, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure coursing through him. He winces but doesn’t stop, his body shuddering as her walls flutter around his cock, milking every last bit of him. They’re locked together, shaking, until the pleasure ebbs into a warm, lingering buzz.
After that, Lando finally stills inside her, his body softening, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he rests his weight against her. Only then does the sharp sting on his back pull his attention, and he lets out a low chuckle, his voice rough and spent.
“You really dug in, didn’t you?” he teases, his tone affectionate as he lifts his head to look at her. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk despite the ache in his muscles.
Her face flushes with embarrassment, her hands slipping away from his back, burying into his hair instead. “Sorry,” she whispers, avoiding to look at him.
“Don’t be,” he replies, his gaze soft and adoring. “It was worth it.”
Before she can add something else, Lando leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that’s the opposite of tender. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity they just shared, and a quiet reassurance that he’s still fully present with her. His hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing against her flushed skin as he deepens the kiss, savoring her.
When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest together again, their breathing still uneven but calming. “You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching hers.
She nods, a small, blissful smile tugging at her lips.
“Hey, don't go non-verbal on me again,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Lan?” she says softly.
“Hm?”
She swallows, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn’t look away this time. “You are… I mean, it was my first time.”
For a moment, her words don’t fully register. He blinks, his brows knitting together as if he’s processing what she just said. “First time?” he repeats, his tone slow, almost disbelieving.
When she nods, her lips parting slightly as she struggles to hold his gaze, Lando’s eyes fix on hers. His first instinct is to check if she’s messing with him, but all he sees is her wrecked, post-sex state. Her hair is mussed and wild against the pillow, her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted as she breathes unevenly. The faint sheen of sweat on her body catches the soft light, and her eyes are glassy, still hazy with satisfaction. She looks thoroughly undone — raw and real.
And he knows she’s not lying.
The realization hits him like a tsunami, leaving him momentarily speechless. His jaw tenses briefly, and instead of speaking, he leans down and captures her lips in a kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic but deep and meaningful, his lips moving against hers with a peaceful intensity. His hand cups her jaw, kissing her like he’s claiming every part of her. Because he is. The thought makes his head spin — the fact that she’s his completely.
“You should’ve told me,” says Lando, his voice thick with emotion. “I would’ve been more careful.”
“No, it was perfect,” she rushes to assure him. “Because it was with you.”
His eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Are you even real?” he whispers.
And then he’s kissing her again; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, trailing down her shoulders and neck, where he makes sure to leave marks behind. His hands roam her body with a newfound reverence, as if seeing her for the first time.
“Gonna spend the rest of the night showing you how much you mean to me,” he says, his lips brushing against her collarbone. “If you’ll let me.”
Her heart swells as she nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Good,” he says, his voice a low hum of satisfaction. “Because you deserve nothing less.”
Thank you for reading!
None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎
© trashy track tales, 2024
#lando norris x reader#virgin!reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando norris#lando norris x y/n#x reader#f1blr#trashy track tales#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 x reader#fan fiction#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#smut#ln4 smut#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4#lando#ln4 x reader#soft!dom#imagine#fan fic author#fan fic writing
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Prodigal son beyond Time - part 2
Part 1 | Masterpost
Damian first met his great uncle Danyal when he is three years old. His mother says he's met him long ago, when he was but a babe with a memory too fuzzy to remember. But the man before him is his grandfather's favorite child. The son that scowls at his father as he cradled Damian in his arms.
"What have you done?" His uncle scowled, a gentle hand pressed against the back of Damian's head. "He's a child!"
"Danyal!"
"You weren't like this with me." Danyal spat, keeping Damian in his arms and pressing his lips towards his nephew's forehead. Damian notes how cold his uncle's skin felt like, but more welcoming than that of his grandfather's.
"Danyal, he is to be trained like a proper Al Ghul." Grandfather said, frowning at Danyal.
"You trained me like a proper Al Ghul when I was older than him!" Danyal immediately protested, "He's three!"
"Danyal—"
"Ukht, I understand that you wish the best for your son but this is not it." Danyal immediately said, looking apologetic for interrupting Talia, but went back to glaring at Ra's. "I've tried to tolerate the fact that you handle an assassin league, father but this? You taught me to be loyal to the family. You taught me to cherish the family, you're blood—why the fuck aren't you giving the others the same treatment you gave me?!"
"Because they are not you!"
Damian doesn't recall what truly happened that day, but he does remember how his uncle's eyes went from soft blues to the same shade that the Lazarus pits glowed.
Damian remembers everything going dark.
Damian grows up differently.
He continues on his training, but everything is kinder to him. The world is kinder when his uncle is home, having tea with grandfather and overseeing his training. Mother loves him and uncle Danyal the most, claiming that they are blessings to her life.
Grandfather is quieter nowadays, almost docile with his uncle around.
It's a little more peaceful. The assassin's continue to train, to fight. But their reign of terror fall upon those that are corrupt and destroying the world. It's one of the compromises uncle Danyal and grandfather have led too.
Damian grows up differently.
Damian's arrival to the Bats' lives was unprecedented and quite confusing. He was a child raised by assassins, a child raised to become the next leader of the league. But he was... Strange. Strange for that kind of standard.
Damian was rather sociable, hostile but not downright murderous towards them.
His uncle did make sure that he had friends in the league.
Ra's had been utterly ecstatic to find out that he had two more grandchildren while Talia was quite pleased to know that she had a niece and nephew.
Damian had a pair of strange cousins who snuck him out of training to go watch the stars, often getting them scolded, but it was worth it. Dante was older than Damian by five years. He was what other would call an angsty teen with how he often rebelled against his father. Meanwhile, Janelle—preferebly Ellie—was only a year older than Damian himself. She was a mischievous person who made sure that everything around her was swallowed by her own chaos. So when he entered the manor, suddenly struck with the reality that he had multiple siblings instead of just one elder brother, Damian knew what to do.
Murder was not the answer.
But by the words of his gracious uncle and the wisdom of his excellent cousins: fight your siblings like a feral child but defend them by being even worse to others.
So Damian's first act as Dick Grayson's younger brother was to bite him.
The undead were restless, rising from their graves or haunting their own corpses. It wasn't something they usually dealt with, forced to call upon magicians.
But even Constantine was bewildered by just how cursed Gotham's lands were. To bring back the dead. Jason was a miracle but this was like an abomination, a literal zombie.
No one really knew how to properly deal with the dead...
Well...
"My uncle would be willing to provide his assistance in this matter." Damian piped up, examining the contained zombies from a safe distance. All eyes were quickly drawn to him, bewildered and questioning.
"I hardly think that Dusan would be suitable for this." Bruce sighed.
Damian scowled, "Not him. My grandfather's first-born is whom I speak off. He is knowledgeable in the occult arts of the dead."
"Damian... Ra's Al Ghul only has one son."
"Untrue. Grandfather's greatest pride was always my uncle. He is precious to grandfather and ensures that no one knows much off him. I expected you and Drake to be aware of the first born."
Tim stiffened, "They weren't rumours?! Ra's actually has some cryptid son?"
Bruce, who had heard of the old tales of the Demon head's beloved heir, had always thought they were stories to scare the assassins. He's never seen the man, nor has he found any evidence of him in the league.
Jason finally started paying attention, "So the league's golden boy can help? Dami, I don't think Al Ghul will even let his favorite kid anywhere near us."
"You underestimate my uncle's love for me."
"You met him?" Bruce quickly interjected.
Jason shrugged, "He helped me out back then. Patched me up when the pit madness got worse and helped me manage it. But his face was usually covered and no one really knew his name."
"Aside from myself, grandfather, and my mother."
Bruce frowned, "Nyssa and Dusan don't know their brother's name?"
"Grandfather says that they do not have the privilege of knowing his name. Mother was the first of his other children to have met my uncle."
"And what about you? You won't give us his name?"
Damian scowled, feeling rather displeased with his father's choice of words. "Names are powerful, father. My uncle taught me this when I was young."
Constantine narrowed his eyes, "You're uncle some kind of fae, kid?"
"Watch your mouth, hellblazer. He does not like you." Damian hissed, having heard all his uncle's rants about the Laughing Magician, especially whenever he'd just randomly pick up Talia and walk around Nanda Parbat like she was a kitten rather than a deadly assassin. "But I shall call upon my great uncle and ask him for assistance. This matter with the undead shall surely pique his interest."
"Tell the old man I said hi!" Jason cheerfully added, sounding quite pleased to hear about the mysterious uncle.
"No." Damian blatantly denied. As much as he loves Todd (and he will never admit that), he was not going to let anyone threaten his status as his uncle's favorite child. Over his dead body.
Damian was quick to walk away from all of them, quickly retrieving all the materials he'd need to summon his uncle. Dark green paint for the summing circle, five candles, and an astrology book.
"Bats... Why the hell is your son performing a summoning ritual? For a ghost of the realms too." Constantine's tone was strained, clearly disturbed and wary of Damian's actions.
"Damian." Bruce warned but Damian just waved him off. He watched as Jason started lighting up the candles, humming an unfamiliar tune.
"D'you think the old man will help us?"
"Of course! Uncle adores me."
"You think he'll give me his name?"
"I will gut you, Todd." Damian immediately responded with the most nonchalant tone he could ever give.
Jason shrugged, before taking a step back.
"Damian! Whatever you're summoning—"
"I'm summoning my uncle, father. He's the best person to go to with these issues." Damian insisted, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
Bruce was startled when Constantine grabbed him, eyes wide and rapidly turning pale. "Why the hell does your son know how to speak the language of the—"
Fire burst forth from the circle, slowly morphing into an icy blast.
"Dead." Constantine's breath hitched, "Holy shit, your brat just summoned the ghost king."
Bruce grabbed Damian the moment a hand emerged from the blast of cold. He shoved his on behind him, suddenly feeling frightened as his entire body felt goosebumps. Fuck. Did Damian really just perform a summoning ritual for such a powerful being? He never expected for Ra's to brainwash his son into believing that such a powerful thing—
"Nephew!"
Bruce blinked, suddenly blinded by the light.
"Uncle!" Damian escaped from his grasp, rushing into the circle. Constantine practically screamed once Damian ran into the arms of what was supposedly his uncle and the ghost king.
In front of Bruce was the most gorgeous man he's ever met.
The floating hair that reminded him of snow and the green eyes that were purer than the Lazarus pits. He couldn't help but swallow thickly, blinking. Damian was held up by the ghost king, allowing the boy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
"Hello, dami (my blood)." The king cooed, his pronunciation of the nickname much different from the shortened version of Damian's name. "I was not expecting you to call me. What's happened, my dear?"
Damian hummed, but before he could speak, he was immediately interrupted.
"Long time no see, old man!" Jason yelled, waving his arm as if he wasn't in the same room as the king.
"Jason! Hello! How are you? The corrupted ecto hasn't returned, has it? If it has, just tell me. I'll schedule a check up with Frostbite." The king quickly fussed, not minding the way Damian was baring his teeth at Jason. "Damian, behave!"
Damian just seemed to whine, refusing to behave and opting to pestering the king.
"I'm good, uncle. Haven't gone out crazy since you took me to the doctor." Jason smiled, already ripping of his domino mask to show that his eyes were green tinged with blue, not glowing green like the pits.
"Good, good. But I really must know why I've been called." The king softly said, directing his words to Damian who was already trying to wriggle our his grasp. Gently, the king settled Damian back on his feet.
"Right. Uncle, my father, Batman. Father, this is my uncle." Damian introduced, his tone hurried and a bit hesitant.
The king, Damian's uncle, smiled at Bruce. "Hello there, Mr. Wayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time." The king hummed, "My name's Danny, but the Al Ghuls call me Danyal."
"Uncle!"
"Hush, hush, Damian. I can give my name to anyone I want. I don't suppose that your father is worthy of it."
Bruce really should be more concerned about the fact that the king knew his name.
"But what of the others?"
"Little one, I sent Nyssa and Dusan letters ages ago. But rest assured, dearest Talia is still the first to earn it." Danny—Danyal—the ghost king softly spoke and patted Damian's head. "And... Oh, it's you."
"Your majesty!" Constantine enthusiastically greeted while Danny scowled.
"Tax evading bastard." Danny huffed, shaking his head before promptly ignoring the tax evading bastard in question.
"Damian."
"The dead are rising."
Danny blinked, blinked again, before he groaned and shook his head.
"Okay, sorry. That seemed to be caused by an error on my side. Some prisoners of my realms started a riot and some of them managed to break out. Some have most likely decided to overshadow their old bodies." Danny sighed, "I'll have this taken care of. Apologies for the inconveniences."
"These... Zombies have been wrecking havoc across my city." Bruce frowned, "They've been harming people."
"Vengeful spirits do that. They're criminals meant to be in prison. It's rare for breakouts to happen, in all honesty." Danny paused, just long enough to run his fingers through Damian's hair. "But if you wish to take charge, by all means. These are corpses being possessed by their own spirits and... Well... They're out of their minds. Not really considered revenants since the possession isn't quite permanent."
"Alright, Bats. We've gotta make a proper deal here. His Majesty was summoned so we've gotta offer him something—"
"That's not necessary." Danny immediately waved Constantine away, evident displeasure from the man. "The sigil I gave Damian was just to call me to him. No need for an exchange."
"Seriously?" Constantine blurted out.
Danny just shrugged, "He's family. And my favorite nephew."
Damian smirked, absolutely smug. "I am your only nephew, uncle."
"Mm... Jason's also my nephew." Danny chuckled softly, easily stepping out of the circle and removing it from the floor—leaving not a single stain. "Now... Shall we deal with the dead?"
Bruce Wayne has made many bad decisions in his life, especially when it came to his relationships. Damian's ghost king of an uncle might be one of them.
Masterpost
#Prodigal son beyond Time#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#batfam#jason todd#batman#crossover#damian wayne#bruce wayne#Damian's favorite parental figure is his amazing uncle#this boy was raised as best as Danny could#Danny went feral after that but cause this boy knew what being compared felt like and hated it#he loves his family even if they're kinda fucked uo#Ra's is a little nicer here cause he genuinely loves Danny like a son#Bruce: This man is not good for me and I know it#Danny Phantom who's cradling his son like it was him who gave birth to Damian#Bruce: But I am fucking blind HELLO SAILOR#Tim's time in the league resulted in hin hearing about the eldritch horror that was Ra's son and supoosed heir apparent#he thought it was all stories#Jason likes his eldritch uncle the most cause he made the pit madness go bye-bye#constatine is a tax evading bastard and Danny has heard enough complains about him to hate the guy himself
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Sultry Guidance Pt 1? Ft Irene and Karina
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/88c336811a58b9f65c2062ebcf51f011/867800c01286ae61-39/s540x810/023de0db1ab6de30e4bc9976a3c81fec3acbb138.jpg)
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As promised the 1k special, and I included the top 2 winners as a surprise for this fic! longest fic I have written hope you guys enjoy! Lots of smut ahead
Word count: 12254 Tags: Threesome, handcuffs, rimjob, tit fuck, rough sex, anal play, tit fuck
You adjust your collar one last time, your hands trembling slightly despite your efforts to appear composed. Tonight is the night: your date with Karina at the elegant outdoor restaurant you’ve chosen. A mix of excitement and nervousness fills you, and you glance at the clock, feeling time slip through your fingers too quickly. The distant hum of conversation and the clink of glasses from cheers only add to your mounting nerves. The doorbell of the restaurant rings, as you hear someone enter and you take a deep breath, your heart thudding loudly in your chest.
It’s been two weeks since you last saw Karina, and today was the first official date that you had asked her out on. Looking up, you see Karina walking towards you like someone who is from heaven. Her tall, graceful figure is accentuated by a flowing midnight-blue dress that drapes elegantly to the ground. The dress seems to move in elegance with her, adding a touch of ethereal magic to her presence. Her dark, lustrous hair cascades in soft waves, framing her face with effortless beauty. Her eyes, deep and captivating, lock onto yours, and your heart skips a beat.
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“You’re beautiful,” you subconsciously said. “Thank you, you look dashing as well’’. The warm, inviting smile she gives you seems to dissolve your anxiety, even if only momentarily.
As you escort her through the restaurant, you feel your pulse quicken with every step. The tables are elegantly set with flickering candles, creating a romantic ambiance throughout the restaurant. You owe your best friend Yeji for this. She had played the perfect cupid for you and her sister Karina, which was what led you to this point in the first place.
You guide her to a beautifully set table that you have reserved in the outdoors, where the city lights could be seen glimmering in the distance. Your hands are slightly unsteady as you pull out her chair, trying to maintain your composure. As you settle into your own seat, the conversation starts with a few stilted exchanges, but Karina’s laughter, the warmth of her gaze, and her easy grace begin to put you at ease.
Throughout the evening, the ambiance of the restaurant—the soft strains of a live jazz band, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the warm glow of candlelight—seems to envelop you both. Karina’s smile, her laughter, and the way she engages with you make your heart race a little less. The nerves that initially gripped you give way to a growing sense of connection and contentment. As the night unfolds under the starry sky, you realize that despite your initial anxiety, this evening is becoming something truly magical.
As the evening draws to a close, you both linger over the last of your dessert, savouring the moment and the connection that has deepened throughout the night. The waiter discreetly clears the table, and you both stand, your heart still fluttering from the enchanting evening.
You moved outside the restaurant with Karina, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the restaurant. The city lights sparkle around you as you flag a cab. As you wait, Karina turns to you, her eyes reflecting a certain form of mischief.
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” she says, her voice soft and inviting. “But I’m not quite ready for this night to end. Would you like to come over to my place? It is just around the corner.”
Your heart skips a beat, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through you. You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d like that very much.”
The cab ride to her apartment is filled with light, easy conversation. When you arrive, you follow her up to her apartment and as the door opens to her cozy, stylishly decorated living room, you are amazed at how inviting the space looked. Karina leads you inside and plays some soft music playing in the background creating a warm, intimate setting.
She heads to the kitchen to pour a couple of glasses of wine, and you take a moment to look around, appreciating the soft, ambient glow of her home. When she returns with the glasses, she hands you yours and moves closer, her smile both playful and tender. The atmosphere between you is charged, each moment stretching with the promise of something more.
You both stand close, the conversation fading into a comfortable silence. Karina’s gaze lingers on yours, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and affection. She gently places her glass down and reaches up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. Your heart races as she leans in, and you can’t resist the pull any longer. You close the distance, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that is both tender and passionate.
It’s as if the world outside has faded away, leaving only the sensation of her touch and the intoxicating connection between you. As the kiss deepens, you both lose yourselves in the moment, the excitement and longing of the evening culminating in this perfect, electric embrace. The night is still young, and with Karina in your arms, it feels like the beginning of something extraordinary.
As the make out session continues, you and Karina became more attuned to each other’s desires, each touch and kiss heightening the electric intimacy between you. You gently pull her closer, her body pressing against yours as your kisses grow increasingly urgent yet still tender. You had moved to the sofa in her living room. The plush sofa beneath you both seems to mold to your forms, creating a perfect cocoon of warmth and closeness.
Karina’s hands explore your chest and shoulders with a newfound intensity, her fingertips tracing the contours of your muscles with a delicate, teasing touch. Her touch ignites a trail of heat that travels through your body, amplifying the passion of the moment. You respond by shifting slightly, positioning yourself so you can fully immerse in the sensation of her skin against yours.
As you continue to kiss, your lips wander from hers to her neck, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that elicit soft, contented sighs from her. Her head tilts back slightly, giving you more access to her delicate skin. The combination of your gentle kisses and her soft responses creates a rhythm that feels almost instinctual, a dance of passion and affection.
Karina’s fingers move to your hair, gently tangling and pulling you closer. Her touch is both assertive and loving, guiding you with a tender but insistent pressure. You take the cue, your kisses growing more fervent as you explore the sensitive spots along her collarbone and the curve of her shoulder. The heat between you both intensifies, and Karina’s breathing becomes more rapid. She arches slightly into your touch, her body reacting eagerly to each caress.
You slide one hand down her back, feeling the softness of her skin beneath the dress. Your touch is slow and deliberate, savoring each reaction and each sigh she gives.Karina’s hands move to your shirt, pushing it over your head as she continues to explore your body. Her touch is both tender and insistent, guiding you closer as her breathing becomes more rapid. You respond by pressing your body against hers, the heat of the moment intensifying with every kiss and touch.
Your lips find their way back to hers, and the kiss resumes with an intense, passionate rhythm. You take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, your tongues exploring in a slow, intimate rhythm. The sensation of her tongue against yours adds a new layer of pleasure, and you can feel her pulse quickening in response.
As you both break away from the kiss, the air between you is charged with the intensity of the moment. You’re both panting slightly, your breaths coming in quick, uneven bursts as you take in the depth of what you’ve just shared. The closeness and warmth of the makeout session have left you both exhilarated and eager for more.
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Staring deep into Karina’s eyes, you could tell they were filled with passion. She leans in to place a final tender kiss on your lips, before pulling back slightly. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. You nod in agreement, your heart racing as you take her hand and help her off the sofa.
Karina guides you towards the bedroom, your steps in sync as she navigates the path. Her movements are graceful as she sways those delicious hips of hers. The bed is draped with luxurious linens, adding to the sense of comfort and intimacy that permeates the room.
As you enter, Karina turns to you with a radiant smile. Her eyes are filled with desire and affection as she steps closer, gently cupping your face in her hands. You kicked the door shut behind you, your arms already wrapped around Karina’s slender waist. You pressed her against the closed door and leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and filled with promise. Her lips part slightly, allowing you to explore with a soft, lingering touch.
Karina moans, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you closer, your bodies flush against each other. Her flowy dress hugged her curves and showed off her toned legs, and you couldn't wait to tear it off her.
You take your time undressing each other, each movement a careful exploration of the newfound intimacy between you. The process is filled with gentle touches and soft kisses, each layer of clothing falling away to reveal more of each other’s skin. The anticipation and excitement build with every touch, each moment adding to the deep connection you’re sharing. Finally, as the last piece of clothing is removed, you both stand before each other, completely exposed and vulnerable. The sensation of Karina’s warm skin against yours is electrifying, and you can feel the intensity of her desire mirrored in your own.
You broke the kiss, your breath hot on her neck as you whispered, "You look so fucking sexy, baby." Your hands roamed down her body, cupping her ass and squeezing the firm flesh. "
I've been thinking about this all night. I need to feel you around me, baby girl." Karina giggled, a mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in her stomach.
She loved the way you called her 'baby girl' which sent shivers down her spine. "I want you too, Daddy," she murmured, her eyes closing as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. "Please, take me. I'm all yours."
Your cock throbbed at the sound of her sultry voice calling you Daddy. You bent down, lifting her slightly as you kissed and nibbled on her neck, leaving passionate marks on her delicate skin. "You have no idea how hard I am for you, baby," you growled, grinding your erection against her. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good tonight."
You carried her to the bed, her hands exploring your body with each step. The softness of the linens beneath you and the warmth of her body creates a perfect setting for what is to come as you lay her on the bed. You admired the ethereal beauty before you. Your eyes are roaming over her perfect body. Her breasts were huge, full and perky, her nipples already hardening in anticipation.
You reached out, cupping her breasts and thumbs teasing her nipples, earning a soft whimper from Karina. "Such sensitive tits, baby girl," you murmured before bending down and sucking and biting her neck again. "But I know something that's even more sensitive, don't I?"
You slipped your fingers down to her wet core. Karina was already dripping for you, her pussy lips swollen and ready. You slid two fingers inside her, pumping them in and out as your thumb found her clit. Karina moaned, her head falling back as you fingered her slowly but firmly.
"That's it, baby, let me hear how much you love it," you said, kissing her neck and sucking on the sensitive skin. "You're so fucking wet for me already." "Oh God, Daddy," Karina panted, her hips rocking with his fingers. "Right there... It feels so good. Don't stop, please."
You added a third finger, stretching her and making her gasp. Curling your fingers, you searched for that sweet spot that would push her over the edge. "Such a good girl," you whispered, your warm breath fanning over her neck. "You're gonna cum for Daddy, aren't you?"
"Y-yes!" Karina cried out, her body tensing as the pleasure coiled tight within her. "Oh fuck, I'm close! Don't stop, Daddy, please!" You quickened his fingers, your thumb pressing firmly on her swollen clit. "That's it, baby girl, cum for me. Let it go." Karina's body shuddered as her first orgasm ripped through her. She clutched at your shoulders, crying out your name as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her pussy clenched around your fingers, her juices flowing freely as she rode out the intense climax.
You slowed your fingers, then withdrew them, bringing them to your mouth to taste her essence. "Mmm, so sweet," you said. "Now I want you to suck daddy’s cock, baby girl. I want to feel that mouth of yours wrapped around me."
Karina's eyes sparkled as she slowly dropped to her knees. She took her time, kissing and licking her way down your hard body until she reached cock. It was already thick and veiny, the tip glistening with pre-cum from how aroused you were in the make out session.
She took you in her hand, stroking the length of your shaft slowly as she admired your size. Then, locking eyes with you she leaned forward and swiped her tongue across the head, tasting the salty sweetness. "Mmm, you like that, Daddy?" she purred, wrapping her lips around the tip and sucking gently. "Fuck, baby," You groaned, your hands tangling in her hair. "Your mouth feels so fucking good. Take more of me."
Karina hummed in response, taking you deeper into her warm mouth. She bobbed her head, her lips sliding up and down your shaft as her tongue swirled and teased. She reached down, cupping your heavy balls in her hand, massaging them gently as she sucked you off eagerly.
"Shit, baby, that's it," You groaned, your hips thrusting gently, your cock sliding deeper into her mouth. "You're such a good cock sucker. You love it, don't you?" Karina hummed in agreement, her eyes never leaving yours as she took as much of your cock as she could. Before she could reach the base, she gagged slightly, unable to take it anymore, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder to compensate for this.
You could feel your orgasm building, your balls tightening as she continued to pleasure you with her mouth. "I'm close, baby," you warned, your hands tightening in her hair. "Keep sucking, take my cum." Karina did as she was told, moaning softly as she felt you swell in her mouth. With a sharp cry, you exploded, your hot cum shooting down her throat. Karina swallowed, savouring the taste of you as you flooded her mouth with your release.
She sucked you dry, milking you for every drop until you pulled away, your legs feeling weak. "That was fucking amazing, baby girl," you said, breathless. "Now I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock."
Karina stood and turned, offering her ass to you. "Take me, Daddy," she whispered, her body quivering with anticipation. "Fuck me hard." You lined up behind her, your hands grasping her soft hips. You rubbed the head of your cock up and down her slit, spreading her wetness before positioning yourself at her entrance. With one smooth thrust, you slid inside her, filling her completely.
"Oh fuck!" Karina cried out, her head falling forward as he bottomed out. "You feel so big, Daddy." You gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back onto you as he began to move. Setting a steady, deep rhythm, your cock slid in and out of her tight sheath. "You like that, baby girl?" you grunted, your eyes closed in pleasure. "My cock buried deep inside you?"
"Yes, Daddy, yes!" Karina moaned, pushing back onto you, meeting his thrusts. "It feels so good. Don't stop, please don't stop!"
You quickened his pace, your hips slapping against ass with each powerful thrust. The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the room, along with both of your moans and cries of pleasure. Karina's walls clenched around you, massaging your cock as he pounded into her.
"You're so fucking tight, baby," you groaned, your hands sliding up to grasp her shoulders. "I'm gonna cum again”
"Cum for me, Daddy," Karina urged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I want to feel you explode inside me."
Your cock twitched within her, and with a roar, you unleashed a second load, your cum pumping into her womb. Karina cried out, her own orgasm washing over her as she clenched around your spurting cock. Both of you rode out your mutual climax as your bodies trembled with the force of their release. Spent, you eventually pulled out of her, your cock semi-erect and glistening with their combined juices. Karina turned, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction as she pulled you into a passionate kiss.
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Suddenly, the door swung open, interrupting your passionate tryst. Karina's stepmother, Irene, stood in the doorway, her eyes widening at the scene before her. Her gaze took in the naked bodies, the tangled sheets, and the evidence of your actions from her daughter’s leaking pussy. A sly smile curved her lips as she realized what was happening. "Well, well, well," she purred, her eyes glinted. "Looks like someone's having a little too much fun."
You and Karina froze, your pleasure-fogged minds jolted back to reality. Karina's face flushed with embarrassment as she realized her mother had caught them in the act. "Mom!" she exclaimed, trying to cover herself with the sheets. "What are you doing here?"
Irene sauntered into the room, her eyes never leaving you. She was a mature woman in her late 30s, but she exuded a sensuality that rivalled any young vixen. Her curves were sharp and her eyes held a wisdom that came from years of understanding the pleasures of the flesh. She had a sophisticated, elegant presence, alongside her complexion being smooth and radiant that complemented her polished style. She was dressed in a low-cut black dress that showed her deep cleavage and unmatched beauty….
Anybody would die to be in this household you thought to yourself. "I could ask you the same thing, Karina," she said, her tone light and playful. "But it looks like I walked in on something interesting. And I can't say I'm disappointed." Irene said with her eyes checking your entire body, landing onto your cock.
You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with desire. The idea of being caught in the act by your girlfriend’s stepmother was unexpectedly taboo and exciting. Besides, your seed is literally still leaking from her daughter’s pussy. You glanced at Irene, taking in her seductive demeanor, she was another beauty to behold. Cheekily, you replied “I was just teaching Karina a few things, but I think there’s still a lot for her to learn.”
Karina angrily pouted at you upon hearing this. On the other hand, Irene's eyes lit up at the challenge. “Oh really? And who better to teach than a mature woman like me? I could show you a thing or two, Karina. After all, a mother always knows best."
Karina's eyes widened, a mix of shock and curiosity playing across her features. She had never thought of her mother in a sexual light, but the way Irene carried herself, the confidence in her sultry gaze, it was undeniable that she possessed a certain allure.
Irene wasted no time in putting her plan into action, not giving Karina any time to protest. She moved towards the bed, her hips swaying seductively as she glanced at your cock, causing it to slowly revitalise itself and harden again. Your desire for this mature woman was growing by the second.
Irene reached out and caressed your chest, her fingers trailing down your abs. "A strong, handsome, well-endowed man like you must have a lot of needs," she murmured. "Let me take care of you while teaching my daughter a lesson."
With that, she lowered her head and took your cock into her mouth, tasting both the remanence of your cum and her daughter’s juice. The thought of that made you incredibly aroused. Karina annoyance slowly dissipated as she watched, transfixed, as her mother sucked and licked, taking you deep down her throat. You moaned, your head falling back in pleasure.
Irene's mouth was skilled, knowing exactly how to pleasure a man. She bobbed her head, her lips sliding up and down his length. Unlike with Karina, there seemed to be no gag reflex for Irene, she can take your full length down her throat. Every time she reaches the base of your shaft, she would skilfully use her tongue to graze the underside of your balls. You did not have to guide the pace but instead just lean back into the bed and let the skilled vixen before you do the work.
Your mind was a haze at how skilled Irene was at giving head. After a few minutes she sensed your orgasm already building up, with a loud pop, she released your cock from her mouth, which was fully glistening with spit from the sloppy head that she gave. Karina watched intently, impressed at how her mother was able to deepthroat you so effortlessly as she began to rub her clothed pussy. Irene continued her oral exploration, sucking on your balls, taking each one into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, before alternating to the other, drenching them in spit. You were at the mercy of her skilled tongue as you gripped the bedsheets hard to prolong your orgasm from coming too early. “Such a delicious cock” Irene said.
Then, going a little lower, she pushed both of your thighs up and towards your chest. her tongue probing your asshole. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her hot breath on your most intimate area, and then her soft, wet, tongue traced circles around your puckered entrance. “Oh fuck” you gasp as her tongue rims you, flicking and swirling.
“Lesson number 1, Man loves it here, they are really sensitive’ Irene said glancing over to Karina
Karina gasped as she witnessed her mother licked and teased your hole, circling her tongue around it before sucking and nibbling gently. She thought it was dirty yet surprisingly hot. Despite initially feeling shy, Karina couldn't tear her eyes away, her embarrassment fading away as raw desire took over. She wanted to learn, to please her daddy the way her mother was doing, with skill and unapologetic lust.
Her hands hold your thighs in place, leaving you open and vulnerable to her playful exploration. You feel the bed dip as she shifts her position, getting more comfortable as she eats you out. Then you feel her tongue pushes past your sphincter, filling you with an indescribable sensation as it slides into your ass. You moan loudly, your hands grasping the bedsheets as she begins to eat your ass with passion and expertise. The swirling and probing drives you wild with pleasure.
“You taste so fucking good” Irene murmurs between licks, her warm breath washing over your sensitive skin. You can’t agree more. The feeling of her tongue probing your ass, the wet sounds of her eating you out, it’s driving you out of your mind with lust. You’ve never experienced anything like this before, and you can’t get enough. Your cock is rock hard, throbbing desperately, begging for attention.
Irene must have sensed your need because she reaches up with one hand and wraps her fingers around your length, stroking you in time with her tongue swirls. The combination of her tongue and her hand on your cock is too much to bear, and you feel your orgasm building quickly.
“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum!” you warn her, your breath coming in short gasps.
“Cum for me, baby” she growls, as she continues her relentless duo treatment. Her words push you over the edge, as your cock pulses in her hand, shooting ropes after ropes of hot cum onto your stomach and chest. Irene laps at your hole for a few moments before, using her tongue to clean the cum off your stomach and chest. “Mmmm, delicious” she purrs, licking her lips.
After letting you rest awhile, Irene resumed her lesson. “Lesson number 2, you must make good use of the assets you have” Irene said while glancing over at Karina’s chest. You agreed… your girlfriend was really well-endowed, and she had one of the most mouth-watering tits in your opinion. The woman who stood before you is not far behind.
You see her nipples were hard and erect, and the valley that formed between both of her mounds was deep and inviting. You gulped, having a hint of what Irene was planning to do. Just as you expected, Irene squeezed her tits together, creating a warm, soft tunnel for your throbbing shaft. Slowly, she lowered her breasts onto your cock, engulfing you in her soft flesh. You groaned, your eyes rolling back in your head as pleasure unlike any you had felt before spiked through you.
Irene's tits were like two pillows, the feeling of her nipples dragging teasingly along your sensitive shaft made it even better. She began to move up and down, her breasts squeezing and massaging his cock. Slowly, you feel your flacid cock springing back to life, to its full length again. "Fuck, that feels so good," you hissed, your hips thrusting gently to meet her movements.
Irene giggled, a sexy sound that vibrated through your tits and directly to your cock. "You like these tits, don't you?"
"Fuck yes," you growled. Lowering some spit between her mounts, she sped up her movement, turning it into a sloppy tit fuck. The sight of your shaft disappearing and appearing with each stroke, the string of saliva that connected from her chin to her tits, the visual pleasure was too much for you to handle as you sensed your orgasm approaching again.
To add to the final blow, Irene leaned her forward, capturing your tip every time it reappeared from her valley giving them a firm suck. Irene was a skilled seductress, and she was giving you the best tit fuck of your life. "I'm going to cum, Irene," you warned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Cum for me," she urged, squeezing her tits tighter around your cock. "Cover my tits with your hot cum."
You couldn't hold back any longer. With a roar, you came, your cock spurting cum across Irene's tits. She gave a delighted cry as your warm seed coated her, streams of cum sliding down her cleavage, some landing on her face which she happily licked clean. "That's it, baby," she cooed, milking your sensitive cock with her tits.
As your orgasm subsided, you leaned back, a satisfied smile on your face. Irene's tits were glazed with your cum, a sight that made your semi-hard cock twitch. "That was incredible," you murmured. “Come and clean me up dear” Irene beckoned her daughter.
Karina, hypnotized by the sight of your cum on her mother’s porcelain skin, moved over and started lapping hungrily at the skin of Irene’s mound, ensuring every spot was clean. Maybe it was the lack of action while watching both of you or maybe secretly your girlfriend was just a cum slut who loved the taste of it. Nonetheless the erotic sight before, made your cock throb.
“Think you have one more load for me?” Irene said, as she spread her already wet snatch, indicating where she wanted it this time. Nodding your head, Irene climbed on you and straddled you. Then, she impaled herself on your cock, her tight, wet pussy sliding down your length swallowing it in one swoop.
Karina watched, her breath quickening, as her mother rode you with expertise, her hips moving in slow, sensual circles. Irene had control like no other woman you ever had before, she was clenching her walls at just the right pressure to send you overboard. "Oh, fuck, Irene," you groaned, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Your pussy feels so good."
Irene chuckled, “You like that, huh, bet you never felt pleasure like this”
Karina felt a mix of emotions—jealousy yet arousal at the same time. She wanted to please you the way her mother did, to make you feel that level of ecstasy. But a part of her was also aroused watching the scene unfold and also the knowledge that her own mother was a sexual goddess, capable of driving a man wild.
Irene increased her pace, her hips moving faster, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. "That's it, take it all," she moaned. "This is how a real woman rides." You were in paradise, your cock buried in Irene's tight, experienced pussy while you watched your girlfriend aroused face, her eyes fixated on both of you. As if to taunt Karina more, Irene leaned forward and whispered to her daughter. "Your boyfriend has a delicious cock, Karina,”. "But I'll bet he's never been fucked like this before. I'm going to make him cum so hard, right inside my tight pussy."
Karina's jealousy spiked, but it only fuelled her desire. She wanted to feel that cock inside her again, to show her mother that she could please you just as well, if not better. But for now, she had to succumb to her mother's superior skills, learning from the master. Irene's pussy clenched around your cock tighter this time as she rode you harder, her juices flowing freely. "Oh, fuck, I'm close," she moaned. "I'm gonna cum all over you” .
Then, you felt Irene's pussy walls contract, her orgasm rippling through her body. This sent you over the edge, and with a grunt you released your load deep inside her, even though it was little compared to their first few orgasms. Irene moaned, her body shuddering as she milked your cock with her pussy, determined to extract every drop of your cum. As their orgasms subsided, Irene leaned back, a satisfied smile on her flushed face. The sheets had grown damp with your sweat and the air thick with the scent of sex.
"Now, Karina, my love," Irene said, her voice still breathless. "Let's see if you can make him cum like that." That was the last thing you heard, before your eyes become heavy and you drifted off into sleep, having been drained.
The next day, as the morning sun shined through the curtains, you stirred from your deep sleep, having been completely drained the previous night, your mind still hazy from what happened.
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You feel a peculiar warmth underneath the bed sheets, still groggy, you blinked and sobered yourself up before realising what that feeling was. It was a wet lip on your morning wood. You groan at this familiar feeling, before lifting the sheets to see Karina giving you head, with her stepmother Irene beside her guiding her. You wondered how long they had been at it.
“Morning sweetheart, I was just teaching Karina a few more things, let’s see if she has learnt a thing or two” Irene then grabbed Karina's hair, directing her movements as she sucked on your thick cock. Karina moaned around your shaft; her eyes filled with devotion as she followed her mother's instructions. Irene set a slow, torturous pace for you, making sure Karina took her time, savoring every inch of your hardness. As Karina bobbed her head up and down, her mouth sliding over your veiny cock, Irene would occasionally grab her hair and push down, forcing her to gag on your length, a feat Karina previously could not do.
You let out a low groan, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you feel your shaft pushing through the barriers of her gag reflex. The sensation of having your cock deep in your girlfriend’s inexperienced throat, her warm saliva dripping down your shaft, was almost too much to bear. But Irene wasn't done teaching her daughter. She guided Karina's by her hair to move to one side of your shaft, dragging her lips along the length of your shaft.
Then Irene positioned herself on the opposite side of her daughter, mirroring her daughter's movement, ensuring that no spot of your cock was missing as they continuously dragged their tongue up and down your length, making you feel both pairs of warm lips on your throbbing cock.
“Fuck.. this feels so good” You grunted. Irene continued guiding Karina to move lower, causing her tongue to trace a path along your shaft before reaching your balls. “Let’s see If you learnt anything from yesterday”.
Upon hearing this, Karina sucked one into her mouth, massaging it with her skilled tongue, eagerly slobbering it, mimicking her mother’s movement from yesterday. At the same time, Irene moved higher, planting her lips at the tip of your cock, and in one swoop gobbled your entire length with her skilled mouth. Your hips bucked slightly at the dual stimulation, your breath coming in sharp gasps, as you feel your cock being worshipped by the pair.
Irene looked up at you, her eyes sparkling at how much control she has over you. "Do you like this? Having two hungry mouths pleasing you at once?" She teased, her voice sultry and seductive. You could only manage a nod, your words failing you as you surrendered to their skilled mouths.
While Karina was not as skilled with her tongue, she made it up with enthusiasm for sure. Karina eagerly lathered your balls with saliva, at times licking up a pathway to your hilt. At one point she even tried to fit both into her mouth, slurping away eagerly as she worshipped them.
You feel the wet heat of their mouths, the slickness of their tongues, and the tightness of their lips as they work in perfect harmony. The sensation is indescribable, their mouths a wet, warm heaven, sucking and licking, mouths and throats working to please you. You begin thrust your hips gently, fucking Irene’s face, unable to control yourself as they send you spiralling towards ecstasy.
Then being the good student Karina is, she moved lower, nuzzling your balls with her nose as her tongue snaked out to tease the sensitive skin behind them, eventually reaching your sensitive hole. Her tongue traced circles around your ass, sending shivers down his spine. She worked your hole eagerly with her tongue, rimming, sucking, licking and probing it, in her efforts to recall the lesson that her mother had taught her.
The sensation of having your cock sucked while your ass was worshipped was overwhelming. You could feel your balls tightening as your cock throbbed. Irene must have sensed you were close, for she quickened her pace, bobbing her head more rapidly. She chuckled proudly as she saw her daughter becoming increasingly skilled.
You warn them, your voice hoarse and rough, "I'm gonna cum, I can't hold it!" Not that you were going to hold back, the pleasure is too intense, and you could’nt wait to explode and paint their pretty faces. Irene looks up at you, her eyes hungry, licking her lips as she says, "Fill my mouth, let me taste all of you”.
You reach down, threading your fingers into Irene’s hair with one, and your girlfriend with another. In one swoop you shoved, both of them to press their face deeper into you — Irene into her throat and Karina into your ass. At this point you were too overwhelmed to care especially if Irene could handle the rough treatment, which of course she could.
With one final grunt, you unleash your orgasm, your cock pulsing as you fill Irene's mouth with your hot seed. She swallows greedily, moaning as your cum hits the back of her throat, her tongue lapping at you to get every drop but it was too much, and it soon began to fill her mouth, some dripping down her chin, down your shaft. Karina moved to lick and kiss your balls, lapping up at every drop that her mother missed, ensuring not a single drop was wasted.
"Delicious" Irene smiled.
As you came down from your high, Irene then cupped her daughter's chin, holding her close as she dripped a mouthful of cum into her mouth. Karina's eyes widened at the taste of you, but she soon closed her eyes in pleasure, swallowing obediently, before leaning in to exchange kisses, their tongues swirling together with the taste of your cum lingering on their tongues, enjoying the cum swapping. The sight before you made your hard again almost instantly.
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"Now, my dear Karina, it's time for lesson number 2, do you remember what it is?" Irene grinned. Karina nodded. Karina positioned herself on your side once again and squeezed her large breasts together, creating a channel between them for your cock. She was more definitely more well-endowed than Irene in this area. Irene was not far behind, squeezing her own luscious breast together. Together, the two women guided your cock between their breasts, the soft flesh enveloping your sensitive shaft.
You groaned, your head falling back as pleasure spiked through you. The feeling of two sets of tits squeezing and massaging your cock was indescribable. The duo moved in sync, their tits gliding up and down your shaft.
Karina whimpered softly, the sensation of having her mother's breasts pressed against her and at times her hard nipple would glaze across her own, which only added to her arousal. "That's it, baby, fuck our tits” Irene chuckled at how much control they had over you.
Karina giggled at the sight too. "You like our tits, don't you?”
“Fuck yes” You growled as you held their shoulders and begin to thrust your hips gently driving your shaft between the two valleys before you. Irene looked to Karina and whispered in her ear, guiding her once more.
"Use your tongue, Karina. Lick the head as it appears between our tits." Obediently, Karina extended her tongue, lapping at the engorged head of your cock each time it emerged from their cleavage. She swirled her tongue around the tip, tasting the mixture of her saliva and his pre-cum. They continued their sensual tit-fuck, the soft flesh of their breasts providing the perfect amount of stimulation. He sped up your thrusting, sliding your cock between their tits, the pleasure you felt was indescribable. Sensing your orgasm approaching, they stopped their relentless assault.
“There are holes for you to fill” Irene said while reaching over to spread her daughter’s hole. Staring at her pretty pussy made you spring into action. You wasted no time in taking control. You positioned Karina on all fours with her ass raised invitingly, her pussy already glistening with her juices. She arches her back further, her curves seducing you to take her harder. “Fuck me Daddy”.
You lined up your throbbing cock with her entrance, teasing her by dragging the tip through her slit, making her whimper. With a sharp thrust, you buried the entire shaft deep inside her, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Karina. The warmth of her pussy envelops you instantly. “Fuck baby, you are so tight”.
Irene, ever the eager participant, refused to be left out and crawled beneath her daughter. As You began to set a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of Karina's tight pussy, Irene lapped at her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. Whenever your shaft slid out, Irene would take the opportunity to lick and suck on it, tasting her daughter's juices, before guiding it back into Karina's waiting hole. At one point, you were alternating between Irene's warm mouth and Karina’s cunt, giving each equal attention, switching after a few thrusts.
You could tell Irene was incredibly aroused in this position when she slipped her hand between her thighs and rubbed her folds. The room echoed with the lewd sounds of sex—the wet slapping of flesh, the moans and gasps of pleasure, and the occasional smack as you spanked your girlfriend’s ass, watching it bounce with each thrust.
Karina's body trembled as an orgasm built within her, her mother's tongue working relentlessly. Sensing your girlfriend’s orgasm through the tightening of her walls, you quicken your pace, thrusting deeper and harder into her. “Cum for us babygirl”.
Understanding the message, Irene bit down on Karina’s swollen nub, sending her into overdrive, convulsing as waves or orgasm swept through her. As Karina cried out, her body shaking through her orgasm, you pulled out, your cock glistening and slick. Irene, ever eager for more, pounced, taking your shaft in her mouth and sucking greedily, tasting her daughter's juices mixed with your pre-cum.
You moaned, enjoying the sensations of her mouth, before pulling her up for a passionate kiss, your tongues tangling as both of you shared Karina's sweet essence. Irene and you took a moment to admire Karina's satiated body, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, but there was more pleasure to come.
You smiled at Irene, with your lustful eyes, you wanted her again. You gestured to the bed, and Irene laid herself down, spreading her legs wide, her mature pussy exposed and glistening. You positioned yourself between Irene’s legs, teasing her by rubbing the head of your cock along her swollen pussy lips. She whimpered, bucking her hips slightly, desperate to feel him inside her. “Come and fuck me hard” she demanded with a certain dominance.
“Oh, I will, you desperate slut” With a swift thrust, you penetrated her, filling her tight pussy again with your throbbing cock. Irene moaned loudly, her head throwing back as she savoured the sensation of being stretched and filled. "Oh, yes! Fuck me like that”
You could tell it has been years since she had her sexual needs fulfilled. Maybe it was because she was a single mom for a long time you guessed. You set a steady rhythm pounding Irene’s wanting hole with deep and ferocious thrust. “Come here baby, let mommy teach you how to eat a pussy.” Irene beckoned her daughter with a finger.
Karina, still catching her breath, smiled deviously as she crawled onto the bed, hovering over her mother. Then she lowered herself onto her mother's face, presenting her pussy for Irene's eager mouth. They locked eyes as they began to move in sync with your thrust. Irene ate her daughter out with expertise, her tongue and fingers working in unison as she licked and sucked on Karina's clit, never breaking eye contact. "Oh, Mom! Suck my clit! Oh, that feels so fucking good!" Karina cried out, her eyes rolling back as she felt her mother's tongue bringing her more pleasure.
Meanwhile, you continued pounding Irene's wet cunt, as her walls massaged your shaft with expertise. You reached forward, grasping Irene’s hips for more stability, and pulled her onto your cock, impaling her on your length. The three of you found a rhythm, a symphony of sex. You fucked Irene, who ate out Karina, who rode her mother's face. Moans and cries filled the room as they each pursued their own pleasure. Karina's juices flowed freely, drenching Irene's face, as Irene’s own pussy clenched around your cock, milking you for all your worth.
As you felt your orgasm approaching, you quickened his pace, thrusting deep into Irene's greedy cunt. “Fuck I’m cumming” You groaned. “Let us cum all cum together” Irene said in her sultry voice before diving her tongue back in swirling her tongue around Karina’s sensitive folds driving her over the edge. Karina, chasing her orgasm began to also grind her pussy against Irene’s mouth, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body, and she reached down to massage her own breasts, pinching her nipples and tugging on them.
Within a few moments, she cried out, her body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her juice flowed into Irene’s mouth, who swallowed eagerly, revelling in the taste of her daughter. Simultaneously, you hit your peak, your body tensing as you emptied your load deep into Irene’s pussy. Irene moans, feeling the warm cum filling her up. Irene's eyes shone with lust and satisfaction as she watched her daughter ride the waves of pleasure, all while feeling her own pussy stretched around your shaft. The addition of the warm spurts in her, sent her to the edge, clenching around your shaft, milking every drop of cum out of you.
She looked up at Karina, her face shiny with her daughter's essence, and beckoned her down for a kiss. Karina dismounted, and leaned down capturing Irene’s lips, their tongues swirled, tasting the sweet lips of each other. As they kissed, you slid out of Irene's pussy, your cock spent, and watched as your cum dripped out of her, pooling on the bed beneath her.
Irene broke the kiss, and reached down, smearing the cum on her fingers, and held it to Karina's mouth. Karina opened wide, sucking her mother's fingers clean, moaning softly as she did so, tasting the mixture of fluid. “Come clean mommy up , baby girl”
Obediently, Karina, never one to waste a drop , immediately crawled between Irene’s leg, her mouth seeking out her cum-filled hole. She kissed and licked Irene's sensitive pussy, cleaning up every last bit of your sticky offering. "Mmm, you taste so good, mommy," Karina murmured, her lips brushing against Irene’s swollen pussy lips. "Your pussy is so sweet, and Y/N cum is so delicious. I could eat you both up all day."
Irene giggled with satisfaction and pride, her body still recovering from the orgasm. “Alright time to clean up, I have some errands to run, before I can teach both of you more lessons”.
"Mom, you're insatiable. But I love it." Karina chuckled back. This had been a whirlwind of pleasure for you, and you collapsed back onto the bed, a satisfied silence filled the room as three of you recovered from your post-orgasm bliss. Shortly after Irene left to wash up and run her daily errands.
You gazed intently into Karina’s eyes, her disheveled hair plastered to her forehead after the session. Gently stroking her cheek, you stirred her from a short nap, causing her to blink awake and meet your gaze. “Want to join me for a shower?” you asked softly. “Daddy’s so naughty” She cheekily giggled before you led the way hopping into the shower room to wash up together. The session continued in the shower with both of you exploring and enjoying each other more alone.
After drying off, you both head to the dining room, where the smell of breakfast wafts through the air. Karina’s stepmom, Irene, has left for errands, telling you to enjoy breakfast and that she’ll see you both later. The dining table is set with a mouthwatering spread of pancakes, crispy bacon, fresh fruit and a glass of orange juice set for both of you. You both take a moment to appreciate the spread before you.
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Despite her wild side in bed, she knows how to take care of both of you even outside the bedroom. “Damn, you’ve got a lot to learn from your mom” You teased Karina, causing her to pout jealousy. “Unfair, you even gave most of your load to her, instead of your pretty babygirl!”
You noticed Karina’s pout and immediately softened your tone. “Hey, don’t be like that,” you said, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You know I love you the most.” You smiled reassuringly. “Even you got to admit your mom’s irresistible in bed , but that doesn’t change how much you mean to me. You’re my number one, always.”
Karina’s frown slowly faded as she looked at you with a cute affection. “Really? You promise?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” you assured her, pulling her into a warm hug. “I would do anything for you!”
“Anything” she mischievously asked. Innocently, you nodded your head. “Well, don’t you think it is only right we return the favour to mom?” Karina asked.
“Oh? That sounds interesting, care to explain what my babygirl means?” You smiled, intrigued at her suggestive comments, eager to hear the details of her cheeky plan. Karina leaned in and whispered her cheeky plan into you. “Damn you are so naughty babygirl… but I like it”
“Oh, please daddy is as bad as me, look at how hard are you from hearing the plan” Karina says while pointing to your hard shaft straining at the boxers. Well, we all know what’s for desserts, before she pulls down your boxers revealing your already hard cock and devoured it for her morning breakfast.
As the day continued, you and Karina busied yourselves in the kitchen, preparing a special dinner for Irene as well as for your plan to kick in. You both put a lot of effort into making it perfect—carefully choosing ingredients, setting the table, and drinks to make it a memorable meal… well you were sure it was going to be memorable anyways.
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When Irene finally came home, she saw the spread and was delighted. “What’s the occasion?” “Oh, there’s no special occasion, really. We just wanted to do something nice for you and show our appreciation for how good you have taken care of us. We thought you deserved a little treat.” You winked at the double meaning in your sentences. Irene’s eyes softened, clearly touched by the sentiment. “That’s so sweet of you both,”
Irene tasted the food, and she was visibly delighted. The flavors were just right, and her enjoyment was evident. As the evening wore on with a few more glasses of wine and chatter, you noticed a change in her demeanour. She seemed unusually flustered and slightly flushed, fidgeting around in her seat as you noticed her rubbing her thighs together.
You exchanged a glance with Karina, and she gave a slight nod knowing things were working. Inside the food, both of you had added aphrodisiac to heightened Irene’s arousal without her knowing. "Hey, mom, is everything okay?" Karina asked, faking innocence. Irene looked at the both of you with a tinge of embarrassment before offering a sheepish smile. "Oh, it’s nothing, really," she said, a bit flustered. “I’m feeling a bit worn out from today, so I think I’ll head for a shower and get to bed early.”
“Oh please take care aunty, we will clean this up” You assured her, as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom.
You and Karina chuckled and quickly cleaned up the dining mess before sneakily tiptoeing to her mother’s room and hiding quietly for phase 2 of your plan. As Irene stepped out of the shower with just a towel covering her body, Karina sprang into action, surprising Irene as she shoved her onto her back, the towel spilling open revealing her full glory. Physically , Karina was taller and stronger , she wrestled the still surprised Irene straddling her and grabbing her wrist, before a sharp click was heard. She had successfully secured both of Irene’s wrist to the bed frame.
“Karina? What…” Her voice trailed off as she slowly realized her predicament. “Shh” She placed a finger on Irene’s lips, shushing her. “You have taught us many things. Today we are going to teach you a lesson… a lesson in patience, and you are going to learn that the sweetest thing always requires waiting.”
“You are going to watch as I pleasure my babygirl right here in front of you” You added. Irene's eyes widened as she strained against the handcuffs. “You wouldn’t dare!” she protested.
“Oh I will” “and we are going to make you beg for your release” With that you secured both of her feet to the foot of bed frame to ensure that her legs were spread. Then you began to strip, revealing your toned body and the thick, 7-inch cock that was already stiff. Irene's eyes locked onto your dick, her mouth watering, the stimulant through the food makes her pussy throb with excitement. She however refuses to let her pride down and pretends she is disinterested. “Let me out” She snapped.
In the meantime, Karina had headed over to the laundry basket in the corner of the room, picking up the fresh black thongs that were just worn by Irene. “Damn, mom, this is drenched, you must have loved the food so much” Karina said while striding over back to the bed frame. At that moment Irene realised the whole setup was planned since the dinner. “What did you put in the food!?”
“Just a little stimulant for you” Karina chuckled before using two fingers to push the wet spot of the thong out and lowering it to Irene’s nose let her inhale her aroused scent. “Look at how naughty you smell mom”
“Stop it. Let me…..” Before Irene could protest any further, Karina stuffed the thong into her mouth forcing her to taste herself, silencing any further noise.” “MMMM” You see Irene struggling against the restraints, her protest muffled. “You wouldn’t be needing that mouth unless you want to beg!” Karina glinted before positioning herself between Irene’s thighs, blowing lightly unto Irene’s mounds. Her folds were already glistening from arousal, and the breath sent more electricity onto her throbbing cunt.
Both of you were going to edge her continuously, teaching her the value of patience until you finally gave her her release. "We're going to take good care of you, Irene," "But first, you are going to watch. I want you to see how much your daughter enjoys my touch." With that, you turn your attention to Karina.
You turned her around and pulled her towards you, crushing your lips to hers in a passionate kiss. Your hands roam her body, sliding under her top to grasp her perky breasts. She moans into your mouth, her hands tugging at your shirt. Breaking the kiss, you trail your lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your hands find the waist of her shorts, tugging them down to reveal her smooth, bare pussy. She's already wet for you, her juices glistening. She too was turned on at the success of her plans and having the beautiful experience Irene at both of your mercy.
You kneel before her, your tongue snaking out to taste her. She tastes of the sweest honey, and you moan as you feast on her pussy. Your tongue flicks her clit, circling it before sucking it gently between your lips. Karina bucks her hips, her hands tangling in your hair as she cries out. She was more aroused than usual. Irene watches, transfixed, her breath coming in short gasps, she tries her best to rub against the bedsheet to gain whatever sort of friction she could, while still trying to maintain her image and pride.
You can see the yearning in her eyes, but you're not done with Karina yet. Sliding two fingers into her soaked pussy, you curl them, searching for that sweet spot that will send her over the edge.
"Oh, fuck, yes!" Karina cries out, her body tensing. "Right there, daddy. Don't stop!"
You added a third finger, stretching her, as you suck her clit harder. Her thighs tremble as you bring her closer and closer to the edge. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and her juices flow freely over your hand. "Look at me, Mom," Karina pants, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. "Watch me cum for Daddy."
Sensing her orgasm, you positioned Karina to hover over Irene's face as you increased your thrusting. Irene's eyes snap open, fixed on her daughter's heaving chest and the erotic sight of your fingers plunging in and out of her pussy. Karina's body bucks wildly, and her juices gush over your hand as she cries out in bliss, a gush of squirting splashing Irene’s face, soaking it.
As Karina's orgasm subsides, you stand, your eyes locking with Irene's. You can see the pure lust in her gaze now, and a hint of pleading. She wants this. Karina bends down, removing the fabric from her mouth and wiping Irene’s face with it. “Ready to beg now?”
“Please….” She whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs.
“Please what?”
“Please, touch me, I need that cock”
“Where do you want it?”
Irene hesitated, a certain uncertainty in her eyes, but the need is stronger at this point. “In my dirty cunt”
“Call him Daddy” Karina whispers, her hot breath in Irene’s ear. Irene’s eyes fly open, and she glares at Karina, refusing to submit.
“Fuc……” Before she could finish, the soaked fabric was once again stuffed in her mouth, this time a mix of Karina’s juice could be tasted. “Well then you won’t be needing this mouth again” Watching your girlfriend's dominant side was certainly a sight to behold.
“Watch closely as I fuck your daughter, and you’re going to love every second of it” You added.
You led Karina once again to position between Irene’s spread legs at a diagonal so Irene could see the full picture. Karina’s hands rested on the bed, supporting her as she presented her glistening pussy to you. Then, positioning yourself behind her, you grasped her hips firmly, pulling her back unto your cock, as you thrust into her. Irene's eyes started intently at the raw desire between both of you. "Oh, baby, you're so wet for me, does being in this position turns you on this much" Karina just nodded in reply, too busy enjoying the pleasure of your shaft plunging into her warmth.
Irene's mouth went dry as she watched your thick, veiny cock glide effortlessly into Karina's welcoming warmth. Karina gasped as you filled her, her body trembling with pleasure. You set a relentless pace, pounding into her with deep, powerful thrusts, making sure each sloppy thrust could be heard by Irene. "Oh, yes... fuck me... harder," Karina panted.
Irene couldn't tear her eyes away from the erotic spectacle. She felt her own pussy growing wetter as she witnessed the erotic scene before her. Then using one of your hands, you pushed Karina’s head forward, unto Irene’s core. “Taste that sweet pussy while I fuck you” Karina complies, her tongue swirling around Irene's clit as you continue to pound into her from behind. The sight before you is enough to drive you wild—two beautiful women, their bodies entwined, working in harmony to pleasure you and each other. Irene gasped as Karina's warm, wet tongue swirled over her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body, she was finally getting some attention and relief on her throbbing mound. Karina's skilled mouth teased and tormented her, licking and sucking her folds, driving her wild.
Karina's fingers joined her tongue, sliding effortlessly into Irene's dripping pussy. She curled her digits, plunging it deeper, but just as Irene's hips bucked with the promise of release, Karina withdrew her hand, denying her the climax. “MMM” Though her voice was muffled, you and Karina understood her protest. “Not yet, you will cum when you are ready to call him daddy and beg”. You could see Irene’s body arching off the bed, trying to fuck herself into Karina’s hand, but the cuffs restricted her.
Karina waited a few moments before she resumed her sensual assault on Irene's pussy, her fingers delving deep, her tongue flicking Irene's clit with expert precision. Irene's body trembled, her wrists straining against the handcuffs as she fought the overwhelming need to climax. Each time she was about to climax, Karina would deny her time and time again.
You could see her resistance crumbling each time she is denied of her orgasm until finally she mustered all her strength and spat out her gag, screaming “Please Daddy, I..I can’t hold on much longer, let me cum”
You and Karina, grinned , having your goal finally achieved. “Shall we let her cum?” Karina turned and looked at you while you were still pounding away. “Cum for us Irene!’’ you demanded “Let us see how you lose control”
Karina sensing her orgasm reached forward and pinched Irene’s nipple, tugging it hard, while thrusting her finger at an incredible speed. That was all it took. Irene's body arched off the bed, her back bowing as she cried out, her orgasm washing over her in powerful waves. Her pussy clenched around Karina's fingers, and as if a dam had broken, she squirted in spurts uncontrollably, some even landing on you.
The sight before you drove both of you crazy. Karina’s body tightened around you, her pussy pulsating around your cock as she climaxed as well. You continue a few more thrust into Karina before you reach your own climax. With a final, powerful stroke, you plunged deep in, your cock pulsating as you filled her with your hot cum.
“It is your turn to clean my pussy mom” Karina mounted Irene again, rubbing her cum-filled cunt unto Irene’s face. At this point Irene had caved, no longer resisting, she stuck her tongue deep into the folds and lapped eagerly, eating your cum directly out of Karina’s pussy and cleaning it completely. You could tell she was incredibly aroused from this, as her core was leaking, soaking the sheets below her. “Please… I need more.” The aphrodisiac was clearly doing wonders and making Irene lose her mind.
“What do you need?” You teased knowing clearly what she wanted.
“Need your cock in me.. please”
“Please who?”
“Please Daddy, fuck me, use me, fill me” You smiled, as if the first begging was not enough, this served as a confirmation that you have successfully mindbroken her at this point, into just a vessel chasing pleasure.
You lean down, your tongue extending to lick a broad stripe up her pussy, your palms digging into her thighs and you force her legs wide open. You see a tinge of disappointment through her eyes, that it was your tongue not your cock on her. “Please I need your cock”.
“Patience, girl”. You dived back in, your tongue delving deep into her wetness, tasting her sweet nectar fully. You eagerly feasted on her, your tongue lapping at her leaking juices, circling her clit and sucking them gently between your lips. She tasted so fucking delicious. Her moans fill the room, and she bucks her hips into your mouths, longing for more friction and stimulation, chasing her relief. Karina watches, a satisfied smile on her face. She moves behind her mother, crawling beside you, and slips a pillow under Irene.
“Mom, do you know what lesson number 1 is?” Irene’s eyes immediately widened at her suggestion. “I bet you are as sensitive as you say men usually are here” Karina says while circling her backdoor, pressing her thumb against Irene’s asshole, confirming what she meant.
Before Irene could respond, Karina got under you, pulled Irene's ass cheeks apart and buried her face in the crack of her ass, her tongue probing the tight rosebud. Irene gasped at the sensation, her body tingling as two tongues danced across her most sensitive spots.
"FFFFUCC---"
“So delicious, so sensitive here” Karina murmured.
You could tell Irene was in heaven from how she was squirming with the duo stimulation. Perhaps it was the fact she was more sensitive in her backdoor that her glistening pussy became an even wetter mess. Not that you would mind, she tasted so delicious as you kept lapping up her never ending fountain of juice.
You plunged two fingers into her soaking pussy and curling them to find the G-spot. Meanwhile Karina simultaneously pressed a finger on the rosebud, trying to gain entry to her sacred hole. Irene’s leaking juice served as the perfect lubricant , however when she felt the pressure on her tight orifice , she reflexively clenched both holes, tightening her walls around your fingers, while denying access to Karina’s fingers.
Suddenly, a loud slap echoed through the room, as you see a red handprint slowly formed on Irene’s pale skin; Karina had delivered a hard spank. “Relax mom, you are going to love this” Irene began to ease her muscles , allowing the finger to break past the tight ring, entering her sacred ass, stretching and stimulating her.
The moment the finger was fully in , Irene shatters, her body convulsing as a powerful orgasm rips through her. She cries out, her voice filling the room as her juices gush over your hand. Her body shakes uncontrollably, her breaths heavy from the intensity of the orgasm.
“Wait a minute, you are an anal virgin?” Karina gasped with shock in her face, the walls squeezing around her fingers with tons of resistance, as if foreign to the experience made Karina ponder on this.
“My , my, looks like this mature vixen , have some experience she is not good at” Irene closed her eyes, her face red from embarrassment at the cat out of the bag. You give her a moment to recover, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Then, you position yourself at her entrance, rubbing the head of your cock along her holds, before slapping it against her clit.
“Fuck me, please, daddy fuck me now”
You were not going to deny her further now that she has complied. You thrust into her, filling her with your length. She's so tight, her heat enclosing you, and you groan with pleasure. You start to move, slowly at first, withdrawing almost entirely before plunging back into her.
Meanwhile, Karina had slipped a second finger to Irene’s ass, scissoring and stretching her as if preparing her for what was to come. Irene felt tighter than usual , her pussy was squeezing so hard on your shaft, and you figured that your baby girl must have been doing a stellar job. You continued to slide in and out of her sloppy pussy in a steady rhythm, reaching down to capture one of tits into your mouth, sucking it roughly. You could feel Karina’s fingers through the thin walls that separated Irene’s holes, which further added to your pleasure.
Suddenly, Karina's fingers leave Irene's ass, leaving a gaping hole that twitches with desire. She quickly makes her way to the wardrobe, opening it quietly as if not to disturb the intense pleasure you're delivering to Irene. As Karina rummages through the wardrobe, you keep pounding Irene's pussy, your pace relentless.
As Karina reappears, you notice what she is holding in her hand, a rather massive dildo . The dildo is slightly smaller than your cock, and you can't help but wonder how it will feel to watch it disappear into Irene's ass. Irene was too focused on you fucking her, that she did not notice what was in stall for her.
With a devilish grin, Karina presses the tip of the dildo against Irene's pink hole. You see Irene's eyes widen as she realizes what Karina is up to. “Wai—” Before Irene could finish her sentence, Karina sank the toy into Irene’s tight hole, slowly inching it bit by bit, trying to get it to be buried to the hilt.
“FUUUCKKKKK” Irene screamed, her body shaking as she experienced a rush of sensation unlike anything she'd felt before. The fullness, the stretch, it was almost too much, and yet it sent her careening toward the edge of ecstasy. You can't take your eyes off the sight before you. Karina grips the dildo firmly, thrusting it in and out of Irene's ass with increasing speed and force. Irene's ass cheeks jiggle with each penetration, and you can see the dildo stretching her hole, making it gape. You resumed your motion, fucking Irene’s pussy and ass in unison with Karina. Irene was in ecstasy, her eyes rolling back as she gets double-penetrated by you and the dildo.
"You like that, you dirty milf? You love being filled by my cock and a dildo in your ass?”
Irene can only manage a nod with the pleasure she was receiving.
"You're our little slut, aren't you, Irene? Taking it from both ends like the good girl you are."
As you continue to fuck her pussy, you feel your balls tightening. The sight of Karina pounding Irene’s ass with the dildo and the fact that it was making her already tight pussy even tighter was pushing you closer to the edge. You know you’re not going to last much longer.
Irene was the first to hit her peak, spiralling out of control as her body was possessed by the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. “I’m cumming!” She screamed, her body convulsing violently. Her ass clenched around the dildo, milking it as if it were a real cock. Her pussy contracted snuggly around your shaft, squeezing you tighter.
"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groan, your body tensing.
"Yes, Daddy, cum inside me, let me feel your warm cum again" Irene moans, her body moving frantically beneath you.
Before you could explode into her, Karina pulled out your cock and deepthroated you down to your base, her nose pressing into your stomach. Your cock pulsed as you filled her throat with your hot seed, your breath ragged. Irene whined at the absence and having your seed stolen from her.
“You have had enough of his load for the past 2 days, this belongs to me” Karina says and she wipes the remaining droplets of cum on her chin before sucking her fingers dry.
“You can have this instead” Karina pulls the dildo out of Irene's ass with a wet, sucking sound before roughly shoving the toy into Irene's mouth, making her taste her own ass. Irene's eyes widen in surprise, but she obediently sucks on the dildo, her tongue swirling around it.
You both moved to stand beside the bed, chest heaving, and watch Irene lying satisfied, her body spent and sated. She’s been thoroughly pleasured, and you and your girlfriend know you’ve given her a lesson and experience she’ll never forget. You exchange a satisfied glance with Karina having completed your mission. Uncuffing her, you softly rubbed her reddened wrist and exhausted all of you crashed onto the bed.
The moment Irene was free, you see her eyes darken, revealing a certain determination. “I am not done with the both of you.”
“Uh Oh…” You looked over to Karina seeking some sort of sort but instead found a mirrored look of apprehension. You both were fucked literally and figurately and you did not know why you had agree to this plan. This was going to be one hell of a long night for the both of you.
It was 7.30 am, you had phased in and out of sleep the whole night with Irene constantly fucking you, not giving you a single second of rest. “Cum for me again” You opened your eyes, seeing Irene riding your shaft vigorously , your dick lodged deeply inside her tight ass this time. To be frank , your dick hurts at this point and you felt dumb for giving an already insatiable slut , aphrodisiac, and as if that was not bad enough, to taunt into submitting to the both of you.
You were forced to give one more orgasm, this time barely anything came out, you were utterly spent. 10, 15 , 20? You do not even remember how many times you were made to cum, nothing was coming out at this point. Your girlfriend was not any better, her hands were handcuffed above her, and you see not one but two dildos deep inside both of her holes. Her body was lifeless at this point. Irene was definitely one to return the favor , and double it literally.
The door swung open suddenly.
“Kar…….WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON”
Yeji has just reached home from her trip and the sight before her left her bewildered, as she eyes Irene down, bouncing up and down your shaft. This was definitely a dejavu moment for you.
“Care to join?” Irene smirked.
“You guys are fucking crazy” Yeji started intently for a moment clearly aroused , her face flushed, before she slammed the door. You swear you could tell that Yeji's stared longer than usual as if she was actually considering Irene's offer.
“why the fuck did I introduce them together” you hear Yeji stomping away while complaining about her regrets of bringing you and Karina together. Little did any of you know, Yeji might very well be heading to her room to enjoy some personal time with the scene that unfolded before her.
Irene quickened her pace, unfazed by what happened and it was not long before another painful orgasm was forced out of you. With that last orgasm, Irene finally left to take a shower and continue with her day. You were so relieved that it was finally over and you could rest. Leaning closer to Karina, you kissed her forehead. “You’re crazy for this,” you said with a smile. “You love crazy,” she replied back. Karina nuzzled into you, and both of you settled in to catch some much-needed rest, too tired to even bother removing her handcuffs.
Ending notes
As always leave comments, suggestions , and request as per the masterlist requirements! If you like to commission a piece do drop me a pm! Hope you guys enjoy this. I left the ending open might do a part 2 but not confirmed. Am working on sex swinger cruise part 2 which will be out at the end of the month! (Hopefully) once again thank you for my first 1k notes and 1k followers (1.1k now actully) Deeply appreciate this community.
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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/82e21a50a550b7065e57e280318f5efb/c705197553bff404-1d/s540x810/1adefd0c4af642d3b082baad60cbf776924189a6.jpg)
"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o
The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.
You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option.
“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.
The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.
What a bastard
“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.
”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”
His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.
He should’ve fought harder for you.
People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.
He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-”
“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.
The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.
The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.
“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.
You’re so close
“I forgive you…I forgive you…”
“I forgive you, Ambrose…”
Oh…
His name on your tongue….
His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.
“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”
.." Or shall I beg more?"
End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)
#help idk what im doing#yandere x female reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere male x reader#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere drabble#male yandere#soft yandere#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere blog#yandere rambles#yandere fic#x reader#oc x reader#oc x you#yandere male
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♯ WOMANIZER ( you misunderstand the batboys’ intentions about you ! )
— fem!reader, bruce & dick & jason ( separated ), cursing, i believe in the imperfection of dick grayson, based on this req.!!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
. . . BRUCE WAYNE !
THE PARTY AT WAYNE MANOR WAS ALREADY WELL UNDERWAY, with the gotham’s most privileged citizens mingling in perfect suits and ethereal gowns that sparkled like they held all the stars in the universe. you didn’t really belong here. or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you stood near the edge of the balcony, nursing a glass of champagne and pretending you weren’t keeping an eye on the man who seemed to command attention wherever he went.
bruce wayne. gotham’s billionaire playboy. philanthropist. occasional heartbreaker. you’d known him for a while, though you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends. he had a knack for being charming in a way that left people breathless, and you? you’d seen through it. or at least, you thought you had.
when he’d started showing interest in you—lingering glances, invitations to these kinds of events that were hosted by him, casual but warm conversation—you’d dismissed it with a wave of your hand and a gentle no, thank you. bruce wayne didn’t date women like you. he charmed them, maybe took them to dinner once or twice and to warm the cold side of his bed, and then moved on to the next glittering distraction. that’s what you’d always assumed about him, and it didn’t help that you were acquainted with one of his exes, a woman who had once rolled her eyes and described him as a man who “likes the chase more than the catch.”
so when bruce’s eyes found yours from across the room tonight, you bristled. it was hard not to notice the way his gaze softened when he looked at you, the way his smile seemed smaller, less performative and more genuine, when it was directed your way. but you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all part of his game. was this just bruce wayne being bruce wayne, setting his sights on some pretty bird for the thrill of it? or was there more to it?
as the night went on, the man found his moment. you were standing near the balcony doors, half-hidden from the crowd, when his smooth voice broke through your thoughts.
“enjoying the party?”
you turned to find him standing a little closer than you’d expected, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit, the rich fabric complementing his broad shoulders and easy confidence. he looked effortlessly polished, as always, every detail of his appearance considered, from the subtle sheen of his shoes to the faintest trace of cologne that lingered in the space between you. but tonight, there was something different about him, something in his expression that caught you off guard. his stormy blue eyes, always so guarded, seemed uncharacteristically open, revealing an earnestness that made your breath hitch. and there, just beneath the surface, was a vulnerability he didn’t often let slip, like he was holding his heart out to you, unsure if you’d take it or walk away.
“it’s fine,” you replied, the words carrying a certain amount politeness as you swirled the champagne flute in your hand. the golden bubbles rose to the surface, catching the soft glow of the chandelier overhead. you took a measured sip and the crispness of the drink did little to soothe the edge in your tone. “not really my scene, though.”
he chuckled softly. “i had a feeling you might say that.”
“then why invite me?” The question came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t back down. you’d spent too much time wondering what exactly a man like bruce wayne wanted from you, and tonight you were in no mood to dance around it.
bruce blinked, clearly caught off guard. “i thought—” he hesitated, the usual composure faltering ever so slightly. “i wanted you here.”
“for what?” you pressed, your voice dipping lower, but it carried the sharpness of a blade meant to cut through his carefully built walls. “to add to the collection? to say you’ve charmed another woman into falling for you?”
the words hung between you, heavy and biting, and you could see the faint flicker of hurt that flashed in his eyes before he masked it. still, you didn’t back down. you’d seen this thing before—the effortless charm, the disarming smiles, the way he made women feel special, if only for a moment. you weren’t going to be another one of those fleeting moments, another name whispered in hushed gossip about gotham’s most privileged golden boy. the weight of your words wasn’t just meant to confront him; it was a shield for yourself, a barrier you put up to keep your heart out of reach of someone who could crush it without even meaning to.
but bruce wayne didn’t flinch. instead, he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.
“that’s not what this is,” he said quietly with his voice steady but threaded with softness. there was no defensiveness in his tone, no quick quip to deflect or charm his way out of the accusation. he didn’t puff up his chest or offer a rehearsed explanation to save his pride. there was no trace of the man who usually walked through conversations with the ease of someone who always knew the right thing to say.
instead, it was just bruce.
you crossed your arms at your chest, your guard still firmly in place. “forgive me if i find that hard to believe. i know your reputation, and i know you don’t exactly have a track record of . . . consistency.”
the man let out a long sigh, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair and glancing away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before he let them out for you to hear. when he looked back at you, his expression was different—softer, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him.
“i know what people think of me. but that’s not who i am with you. you . . . you’re not just some passing interest to me. i don’t know how else to say it, but i care about you. more than i’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”
his words caught you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you searched his face for any sign of deceit, any trace of the playboy side of him you’d come to associate with him. but all you saw was sincerity. it terrified you as much as it made your heart ache.
“you don’t have to believe me,” he added, his voice quieter now. “but i’ll prove it to you, if you let me.”
the vulnerability in his eyes was so raw, so uncharacteristic of the man you thought you knew, that you couldn’t help but feel a crack form in the wall you’d built around yourself. maybe he really meant it. maybe this wasn’t just a game to him. you didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything at all. instead, you let your gaze linger on him for a moment longer, trying to piece together the man in front of you with the one you thought you’d figured out. and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—you’d been wrong about bruce wayne.
. . . DICK GRAYSON !
DICK GRAYSON WASN’T USED TO BEING MISJUDGED. sure, people sometimes underestimated him—wrote him off as just another pretty face, a charmer with a disarming smile and nothing deeper behind it—but he always found a way to prove them wrong. except when it came to you.
you, with your sharp wit and guarded heart. you’d known him long enough to see past his dazzling exterior, but you also had your assumptions about him, shaped by things you’d heard and what you thought you’d observed. you’d seen him with kory, with barbara, with women who seemed to flock to him effortlessly. to you, he seemed like someone who loved the chase more than the catch, someone who couldn’t sit still long enough to really, truly care. and that’s where the problem began.
it started with a rumor. one of your friends—a casual acquaintance of dick’s—had mentioned his “reputation” in passing, how he’d always been the heartbreaker of gotham’s streets. you’d smiled politely and brushed it off, but on the inside, your walls had risen. and then there were the times you’d seen him turn on the charm with women at galas or events, the way they seemed to melt under his intense gaze. it didn’t help that you were certain he could have anyone he wanted.
when dick started paying more attention to you, your first instinct was suspicion. he’d never been anything but kind, but now, his kindness seemed . . . targeted. personal. he asked about your day, remembered small details you’d mentioned weeks ago, found ways to cross your path more often than felt coincidental. he’d even shown up at your workplace once with a bag of takeout, claiming he was “just in the neighborhood,” though you were sure that wasn’t true. it was flattering and sweet, sure, but it also made you wary. he’d been like this with others before, hadn’t he?
“let me guess,” you said one day, crossing your arms as he caught up with you after a late-night outing with mutual friends. “you’re just doing this for fun, right? another notch on the great dick grayson belt?”
the words stung more than you expected. they slipped out before you could stop them, a mixture of your own insecurities and the walls you’d carefully constructed around your bleeding heart to protect yourself. dick froze mid-step, his easygoing smile faltering for the first time.
“what?”
“you don’t have to play dumb,” you continued, keeping your tone casual, though the tightness in your chest betrayed you. “i’m not one of those girls who’s going to fall for the charming guy.” you gestured vaguely towards him, your hands betraying your nerves as much as your words. “i mean, i’ve seen it all before. the sweet smile, the compliments that sound so personal but somehow aren’t. you’ve got a whole thing, dick. it’s practically a brand.” shifting your weight, your eyes darted away from his for a second before locking back in. “i’ve seen it with kory. with barbara. probably with whoever else came before or after. you walk in, sweep them off their feet with your ‘i’m just a nice guy with perfect hair and a killer backflip’ act, and then . . . i don’t know. you move on. it’s just what you do, isn’t it?”
the words spilled out faster than you could stop them, a mix of defensive sarcasm and the tiniest sliver of insecurity you hated admitting was there. the way his expression shifted, the way his easygoing demeanor cracked, told you you’d struck deeper than you intended—but you couldn’t back down now. not when your heart was hammering against the bones of your ribs, reminding you of all the reasons you’d kept him at arm’s length.
dick blinked, as if you’d just slapped him. for a moment, he didn’t respond, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite figure out what to say. the hurt in his eyes was almost enough to make you regret your words, but you stood firm, heart pounding.
“i . . . wow,” he finally said, running a hand through his dark locks. the tone of his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it, stripped of the usual warmth and charm that seemed to come so effortlessly to him. his hand lingered at the back of his neck, fingers pressing into the tension there, like he was trying to ground himself. “that’s what you think of me?” he repeated. his blue eyes, normally so lively and teasing, searched yours for some kind of explanation, some hint that you didn’t mean it the way it sounded. but there was no teasing now, no easy smile to smooth over the rough edges of your words.
for once, dick grayson—always so confident, so sure of himself—seemed completely thrown, like you’d hit a nerve he didn’t even know existed.
in truth, the man was head over heels for you. he didn’t know when it had started exactly—maybe it was the first time he heard your real laugh, or when you’d gone out of your way to help a stranger on the street, or the way you always managed to keep up with his fast-paced banter. all he knew was that you were constantly on his mind, and he was trying everything he could think of to show you how much he cared. but clearly, he’d been going about it the wrong way.
“look, i know what people say about me. i know i’ve made mistakes, and yeah, i’ve had relationships that didn’t work out. but that doesn’t mean i’m—that i’m what you think i am.”
“then what are you, dick?” you challenged, your voice sharp even as doubt began to creep in. “because all i see is a guy who’s used to getting what he wants.”
he let out a breath, shaking his head. “i’m a guy who’s trying to show you that you’re important to me. that i care about you more than i’ve cared about anyone in a long time. but apparently, i’ve done a terrible job of that.”
the raw honesty in his voice caught you off guard. for the first time, you saw past the charm and the confidence to the vulnerability beneath. he wasn’t trying to manipulate you or play games—he was laying himself bare, and it terrified you almost as much as it touched you.
“you could have anyone,” you said quietly, your tone softening despite yourself. “why me?”
dick stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, as if he was trying to give you space while still closing the distance between you. “you challenge me. you make me want to be better. and yeah, maybe i’ve had a past, but none of that matters to me anymore.“
in the silence that followed, you felt your walls begin to crack. maybe he wasn’t perfect. maybe he’d made mistakes. but the sincerity in his eyes was impossible to ignore. he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear—he was saying what he needed you to know. you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that he was telling the truth.
. . . JASON TODD !
JASON TODD WASN’T A MAN KNOWN FOR BEING SUBTLE, especially when it came to matters of the heart. his past had been a mess, filled with pain, betrayal, and a long string of failed attempts at normalcy. but despite all the scars, despite the weight of the past, there was something about you that made him want to try, that made him want to be someone better, someone worth your time. yet, every time he tried to get closer to you, it felt like you were slipping farther away, as if you saw him as nothing more than just another guy who wanted a quick fling—someone like the men who had come before him, someone who was only interested in getting into your pants.
it frustrated him to no end.
jason knew he wasn’t perfect. hell, he knew he had a lot of baggage, a lot of things that would make most people run in the opposite direction. but you? you didn’t just run. you were cautious, almost skeptical, like you were holding him at arm’s length, convinced he was just another fool who thought he could charm you with a few clever lines and some smooth moves. the way you looked at him sometimes—it wasn’t with the disgust or anger he used to see when people looked at him, but something close. disappointment, maybe. like he was nothing more than a shadow of someone who could be worthy of your time.
the thing that gnawed at him the most was that you didn’t believe him. you didn’t believe that he was different, that he saw something in you beyond the physical. there were days when you’d look at him, laughing at something he said, a playful smile tugging at your lips, and jason would get this flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—you could see him the way he saw you. but then there were the other days. days when you’d pull away, your eyes distant, your words clipped, and it would hit him like a ton of bricks. you were still unconvinced.
it didn’t help that you knew his exes, some of the women from his past who had used him or only wanted him for the same thing you feared he wanted from you. and that only made you more guarded, more unwilling to take the chance on him. to you, it was as if he were just another man who came with a history of bad decisions. and to some extent, maybe you were right, but he wasn’t about to let that be the end of the story.
one night, after patrol, jason found himself sitting at your kitchen table. you were cooking ( his favorite ) , focused on your task, and he leaned back in his chair, watching you with a quiet intensity. he couldn’t help but study you—how you moved, how your eyes flickered over the ingredients, how you chewed on your bottom lip when you concentrated. he adored it all. and it pissed him off that he couldn’t just tell you how he felt without the weight of his past overshadowing it all.
“hey,” he finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had been hanging between you. you didn’t look at him right away, too absorbed in what you were doing, but when you did, it was with a look that said you knew exactly what was coming.
“jason,” you sighed, setting the knife down carefully and wiping your hands on the towel. “we’ve been through this.”
his brows furrowed, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “been through what?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice but failing. “what’s the deal with you?”
you paused, your face softening with an almost sad smile. “what do you mean, what’s the deal with me?” you asked with your voice a mix of amusement and something else—something more guarded. you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest.
“you act like i’m just another guy you’re trying to keep at arm’s length,” jason said, vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. “i get it, alright? i do. i’ve messed up a lot. but i’m not trying to be just some guy who’s after your body. i’m not. i don’t know what else i have to say to make you believe that.”
your eyes softened upon hearing his rant, but there was still hesitation there, that skepticism that had become so familiar in his interactions with you. “jay, you’re a good guy, but . . .” you trailed off, searching for the words. “i’ve seen how things end with people like you. how they use others, and then leave them behind. and i’m not stupid. i can see how you look at me sometimes. it’s the same way you look at everyone else, isn’t it? like they’re just a means to an end.”
jason pushed himself up from his seat, crossing the small space between you in a few long strides. “that’s not how i look at you,” he stood firmly. “i don’t look at you like that at all. yeah, i’ve made mistakes. but i’m not the same guy who was a dickhead in the past, and i’m not the same guy who thought he could just charm his way into getting what he wanted. i care about you.”
you let out a breath, dropping your gaze for a moment, and his heart skipped a beat. there it was—the doubt, the hesitation that had been there for weeks, lingering just beneath the surface. he wasn’t going to let you slip away without trying, not when he knew what he felt. not when it was so clear to him that you were the one person who had somehow gotten through the walls he’d built.
“i’m not asking for anything from you,” he continued, his tone softening as he reached out, gently cupping your cheek with one hand, lifting your face so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “i’m just asking for the chance to show you. i know you don’t trust me yet. i get that. but please, give me a shot. i’m not just gonna walk away. not this time.”
there was a beat of silence between you two, the air thick with everything unsaid. and for a moment, you just stood there, your eyes locked on his, reading him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. he was giving you everything in that moment, his heart, his truth, all laid bare in front of you. and for the first time, he wasn’t sure if you would walk away.
but then, something in your eyes shifted. a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you sighed, reaching up to gently take his hand from your cheek.
“okay,” you said softly, voice almost a whisper. “okay, jason. i’ll give you a chance.”
jason’s heart fluttered in his chest, and a grin tugged at his lips as he leaned forward to kiss you. he was a man who had always been wary of letting anyone get close, but when it came to you, he would do anything to prove he wasn’t the same man he once was.
and with that, for the first time in a long while, jason allowed himself to hope.
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne imagine#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fic#dick grayson imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fic#batman x reader#batman x you#nightwing x you#nightwing x reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#dcu x reader#dc comics x reader#dc x reader#dcu comics#dcu#batboys x reader#reader insert#x reader
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One Big Misunderstanding || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: Tensions rise when an innocent comment about a missing bracelet sows doubt between you and Rafe, sparking suspicions of infidelity.
Warnings: ANGST GALORE
Word count: 2,711
A/n: inspired by the perfect couple on Netflix 😛
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
The sunlight streamed through the grand floor-to-ceiling windows of the drawing room, casting a warm glow on the pristine marble floors. You sat perched on one of the luxurious cream sofas, a curated array of diamond necklaces sprawled elegantly across the glass coffee table before you.
Across from you, Eloise, your private jewellery consultant, adjusted her notepad, a professional yet friendly smile playing on her lips. “Madeline, sweetie, no touching, please,” you gently reminded, catching your daughter’s small hands as they reached out eagerly for the sparkling treasures.
Her curious blue eyes, so much like Rafe’s, widened in innocent protest before she giggled, retreating to your lap with a playful pout. Eloise chuckled softly, waving at Madeline. “Someone has quite the eye for jewels already,” she teased, her gaze fond as Madeline shyly buried her face into the folds of your dress.
You let out a soft laugh, brushing Madeline’s hair back as your fingers glided over the dazzling collection. “I don’t think it’ll be too long before she’ll be in my position,” You softly say. The newest designs shimmered under the light, each more stunning than the last. “They’re all exquisite,” you sighed, lifting a delicate piece encrusted with diamonds.
“But I think I’ll take this one, and…” Your eyes roamed over the display again, settling on another necklace with an intricate design. “This.” “Excellent choices, Mrs. Cameron,” Eloise praised, jotting down notes in her leather-bound book. Her tone brimmed with approval, and her smile didn’t waver as she looked up.
Madeline squirmed in your lap, reaching up to tug at the simple necklace you were already wearing. You adjusted her gently, holding her small hands to keep them still. Eloise glanced up from her notes. “Did you like the bracelet Mr. Cameron gave you?” Her tone was casual, but her words made you pause. “Bracelet?” you echoed, your brow furrowing.
Your voice held a slight edge of confusion as you looked at her. “The gold bangle with the pavé diamonds,” she elaborated, glancing up with a look of delight. “Rafe spent so much time picking it out for you.” Her enthusiasm was almost contagious as she beamed. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, your mind racing.
You had no idea what she was talking about. A heavy silence lingered for a moment, and you felt the weight of Eloise’s expectant gaze. “Oh! The bracelet!” you quickly feigned recognition, a forced smile stretching across your face. “Yes, of course. It’s lovely—he knows me so well.” Your voice sounded light, but your heart sank as the lie left your lips.
Eloise didn’t seem to notice. She rose gracefully, tucking her notebook under her arm. “Well, I’ll be on my way. I’ll see you next month, Mrs. Cameron,” she said cheerfully, giving you a polite nod before heading toward the door. You stayed seated, your posture still and tense as Madeline babbled happily on your lap.
The silence of the room closed in around you once Eloise left, leaving you to wrestle with your thoughts. Rafe had bought you a bracelet? Why hadn’t he given it to you himself? Had he left it somewhere, expecting you to find it? Or had it been an afterthought, something he had no time—or desire—to present personally?
The questions swirled in your mind as you absentmindedly stroked Madeline’s hair, your gaze fixed on the glittering necklaces on the table. As much as you tried to push it aside, the confusion, and a small pang of hurt, lingered.
~
Later that night, you sat before your vanity, the familiar routine of your skincare ritual grounding you in a semblance of normalcy. The soft hum of the bathroom light and the gentle swish of creams and serums felt like a small act of defiance against the questions that kept circling in your mind. The bracelet. Rafe’s strange omission of it.
The way Eloise had mentioned it so casually, as though it was something you should’ve known. You brushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself you were overreacting, but they lingered, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. The bedroom door creaked open behind you, and without turning, you saw Rafe in the reflection of your mirror.
Still in his suit, looking as polished and untouchable as ever. You didn’t acknowledge him, continuing with your skincare, your movements slow and deliberate. “Busy day?” you asked, your voice flat, more out of routine than affection. His response was distant, lost on you as you remained absorbed in your own thoughts, the quiet hum of your routine enveloping you.
The bracelet. “How was the jewelry showing?” he asked, his voice still detached, but something in his tone caught your attention. You glanced up at him briefly through the mirror. His eyes were on you, studying you with a faint trace of curiosity. “It was good,” you mumbled, your focus wavering again.
Rafe’s brow furrowed as he watched you, sensing the lack of the usual excitement you carried after these showings. His fingers paused at the buttons of his shirt as he tilted his head, his gaze sharpening. “Did you… pick anything you liked?” he asked, his tone slower now, as if he was gauging your mood, sensing something was off.
“Yeah, I did,” you replied, your voice empty, devoid of any real emotion. Before he could continue, you stood up abruptly, tightening the robe around your body more than necessary. The familiar movement felt like a barrier, an armour you could slip into. “I’ll just make myself some tea,” you said, the words sounding rehearsed, like you were already running from the questions.
You didn’t spare him another glance as you walked past him, leaving the room without another word. You descended the stairs mechanically, but instead of following the usual route to the kitchen, your feet took you in the opposite direction, towards Rafe’s office. Your heart pounded as you approached the oak door, glancing over your shoulder to ensure no one was watching.
Slowly, you pushed the door open, the room still and quiet in its untouched state. The room was a sharp contrast to the chaos in your mind. Your eyes darted to his desk, and instinctively, you moved toward it. You knew Rafe kept everything meticulously in order, and his drawers were always locked. But tonight, your curiosity outweighed your caution.
You pulled open the first drawer, then the second. It was the third one that caught your attention. As your fingers sifted through papers, your eyes landed on a familiar logo—the jewelry shop. Your pulse quickened as you pulled it free, finding a receipt tucked between papers. The words on the page seemed to mock you as you read, Rafe Cameron, the date, and the item listed: Nature Bangle, Pavé, priced at $18,000.
A photo of the bracelet accompanied the receipt. The image burned itself into your mind—elegant, delicate, and undeniably expensive. Your breath caught in your throat, and your mind spun. You quickly shoved the receipt back into the drawer, snapping it closed. The weight of what you’d seen was suffocating, the overwhelming question taking shape in your mind.
Was Rafe cheating on you? The thought gnawed at you, its edge cutting deep. You had been with him long enough to believe that something like this wouldn’t happen. But the pieces didn’t fit. Rafe had always been… Rafe. He wasn’t the type to hide things, or at least, you never thought he was.
The doubts began to creep in, unsettling your thoughts, but before they could settle into a clear conclusion, you stood up from the desk and made your way out of the office.
~
The morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. You sat on the plush sofa, coffee in hand, its warmth grounding you as you watched Leo and Madeline play on the rug before you. Their laughter filled the room, a soothing balm to the unease still simmering from the night before.
The sound of Rafe’s footsteps descending the staircase pulled your focus, and soon enough, he rounded the corner into the living room, his presence unmistakable in the tailored suit that hugged his frame. Despite the domestic setting, he still exuded the same composed, businesslike energy he carried everywhere.
“Jordan told me your schedule was clear for today,” you remarked, your voice calm but inquisitive as you tracked his movements. “Hm?” Rafe hummed in response, crouching slightly to press a kiss to the top of both Leo’s and Madeline’s heads. The gesture was effortless, automatic, and yet it made your chest tighten—a cruel contradiction to the doubts swirling in your mind.
“I said, Jordan told me your schedule is clear today,” you repeated, watching him carefully as he straightened, his gaze finally meeting yours. A small, almost nonchalant smile tugged at his lips. “Last-minute meeting, that’s all,” he replied smoothly, brushing off the question as if it were of little consequence. His tone was casual, but it didn’t sit right with you.
You cocked an eyebrow, your expression neutral but sharp enough to suggest you weren’t entirely convinced. “I’ll be back before three,” he added quickly, as though the reassurance might settle you. Without waiting for a response, he stepped closer, leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. The gesture was familiar, practiced, and yet it felt hollow.
You remained still, your eyes fixed straight ahead, your coffee cooling in your hand as his cologne lingered in the air. “Drive safe,” you murmured, your voice even but distant. You didn’t look at him as he pulled away and adjusted his cufflinks. The sound of his footsteps retreated, leaving a subtle void in the room once he was gone.
~
The door to your bedroom creaked open, and Rafe stepped in, his movements deliberate but calm. Your eyes lifted from your phone, following him briefly before drifting back to the glowing screen in your hand. “They’re asleep,” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with exhaustion. You hummed in acknowledgment, barely lifting your gaze as he moved toward his side of the bed, shrugging off his jacket and placing it neatly on the chair by the window.
Rafe climbed into bed beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He leaned back against the headboard, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and letting out a quiet sigh. The silence between you felt heavy, the kind of quiet that wasn’t comfortable but wasn’t quite confrontational either. You placed your phone down on the nightstand, your fingers brushing its edge before folding neatly in your lap.
The glow of the bedside lamp softened the room, but it did little to ease the tension you felt knotting in your chest. “Are you cheating on me?” The words left your lips before you could stop them, your voice sharp yet trembling, slicing through the quiet. “What?” Rafe’s hand froze, his body stiffening as he turned to look at you, his tone laced with shock and disbelief. His brows furrowed deeply, searching your face for an explanation.
“Are you cheating on me?” you repeated, softer this time, the vulnerability in your voice stark against the tension building in the room. His lips parted, words stuttering for a moment before he finally asked, “What are you talking about?” You sat up straighter, folding your arms as you exhaled shakily. “The bracelet, Rafe.” The words were laced with hurt as your eyes locked onto his, watching the colour drain from his face.
His expression shifted—confusion, then understanding, and finally a look that you couldn’t quite place. Your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes began to water, the emotional floodgates breaking against your will. “Eloise mentioned it. She said you spent so much time picking it out, but I never got it, Rafe,” your voice cracked slightly. “So, where is it? Who is it for?”
Rafe ran a hand down his face, the exhaustion in his eyes now replaced with something akin to guilt—but not the kind you feared. He pushed himself up against the headboard, facing you fully. “It’s not what you think,” he said firmly, his voice low, almost pleading, but it did little to ease the storm brewing inside you. “Then explain,” you demanded, your voice trembling with a potent mix of anger and sorrow.
Tears slipped down your cheeks, hot and relentless, and you swiped at them quickly, unwilling to appear completely undone. But your composure was already fractured, and Rafe could see it in your glistening eyes and the slight quiver of your lip. His silence was unbearable. The hesitation hanging between you wasn’t just a pause—it was an admission, a crack that threatened to shatter everything you’d built together.
It cut deeper than words ever could, leaving a hollow ache in your chest. “Explain,” you repeated, your voice firmer now, laced with urgency. “For the sake of our children, for our marriage, Rafe. Tell me what I’m supposed to believe right now.” He ran a hand over his face, his usual confidence, his composed exterior, seemed to falter under your gaze. For once, Rafe Cameron looked unsteady.
“It wasn’t meant to be like this,” he muttered, his voice low. You blinked, your breath catching. “What wasn’t meant to be like this? Stop talking in circles and just tell me.” Your voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your chest tighten with the weight of your fears. Rafe exhaled sharply, finally looking up at you. His eyes locked onto yours, their usual sharpness softened by something unfamiliar—regret, perhaps.
“The bracelet,” he began, his words slow and deliberate, “was supposed to be a surprise. For you.” Your brows furrowed as you tried to process his words, your heart racing. “What?” He leaned back on the headboard, his hands clasped together. "It’s… for our anniversary. I wanted to give it to you then. I even had it engraved.” His voice wavered, and he shook his head.
“I thought I was doing something thoughtful, but I should’ve just given it to you right away. I didn’t think it would—” He stopped, the weight of your reaction sinking in. You stared at him, your mind reeling. His explanation had knocked the wind out of you, leaving you unsure whether to feel relief or frustration. “You… were planning to give it to me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes.” He looked at you earnestly, his expression softening. “I didn’t realise it would make you question everything. That’s on me. I’m sorry.” Your tears slowed, but the tension in your chest lingered. “Why didn’t you just tell me that when I asked? Why make me feel like I was losing my mind?” Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I thought you’d laugh at me, or brush it off as something meaningless.
You don’t exactly make it easy to do… sentimental gestures.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, but it held a hint of frustration. You exhaled slowly, processing his words. The weight of your accusation settled heavily on your shoulders, mixing shame with residual doubt. “You should’ve told me,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. “And you should’ve trusted me,” he countered gently, his tone not harsh but pointed.
“We can’t keep doing this—assuming the worst about each other.” You looked away, your throat tight as his words sank in. Perhaps he was right, but the wounds of mistrust weren’t so easily healed. “I just… I don’t want to be a fool,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. “Not for you, not for anyone.” Rafe turned his head, his hand reaching over before settling on your knee. “You’re not a fool,” he said quietly, his voice steady.
“You’re my wife. And I know I don’t always get it right, but I need you to believe that I’m trying.” You met his gaze, searching for any flicker of insincerity but finding none. His blue eyes held yours, unwavering, and for the first time that night, you felt the tension in your chest begin to ease. “I’ll believe it,” you whispered, the words tentative but genuine.
"But you have to meet me halfway, Rafe. No more secrets. No more hesitation.” He nodded, his grip on your knees tightening briefly in silent agreement. “Deal.”
#rafe cameron x fem!reader forced marriage au#rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron obx#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x reader#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks x you#obx4#rafe imagine#rafecore
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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 7 ᰔᩚ
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ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader
ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.
ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse » 【note, this chapter contains heavy triggers of domestic abuse and explicit sexual content (dry humping, grinding)】
ꨄ words: 21k (i'm so... so tired guys...)
ꨄ a/n. happy thanksgiving! sorry this took so long—this chapter has a lot in it. i'm laying down a lot of ground work for what's to come so... this is kind of a unique chapter, and it didn't feel right breaking it up. anyways, here ya go! also, happy birthday @gojoslefttoenail ♡
ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)
♬ playlist
series masterlist ꨄ︎ previous chapter ꨄ︎ next chapter → pending
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ch 7 // the road ahead
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Stepping out of the suite’s bedroom, raindrops cling to the large windows—a warm glow radiating over the common area as each shimmering bead catches delicate streams of morning sunlight, but the only thing that draws your attention is Satoru.
Sitting casually on the plush couch, one of his arms is draped lazily along the backrest, his long legs stretched out as though the world couldn’t faze him. He looks utterly at ease, but as soon as his eyes meet yours, everything shifts. His expression brightens instantly, his features softening into a boyish grin, and those brilliant blue eyes of his twinkle with a warmth that feels like it’s meant for you alone.
“Mornin’ sleepyhead. Ready to get going?”
A soft smile tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze.
He never fails to make your heart skip a beat—every single time. But now, your heart flutters differently. There’s a gentle intimacy in the way he looks at you—something that is much more than casual affection.
Nodding, your fingers absentmindedly tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you begin to cross the room, closing the distance between him.
“Yeah,” you murmur, reaching for your purse on the coffee table, then sliding it around your shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
Stepping out of the suite together, it’s almost like the quiet click of the door feels like the closing of a chapter, and the beginning of something new.
You both begin to make your way down the hallway towards the elevator, and without a word, Satoru reaches for your hand, his fingers threading between yours in a way that feels so natural, so right, like they were always meant to fit together this way.
Looking up at him, he flashes you another one of those disarming smiles while offering your hand a reassuring squeeze.
Your stomach flips—but why? This isn’t the first time you’ve held hands—far from it. You do it all the time in public, in front of others. So why does it feel different now?
Ah…because this is real.
There are no cameras. And there is something different in the way he holds your hand—it’s more deliberate, more certain, as if the invisible wall that once stood between you has finally crumbled.
That realization alone sends a warmth flooding through you, spreading up your chest and into your cheeks, leaving you flushed with a delicate shade of pink. But it’s not just the hand-holding—it’s everything. The look in his eyes, the warmth of his touch, the way his presence makes you feel cherished in a way you’ve never felt before.
For the first time, you know for certain that you’re not just pretending.
And despite being able to walk beside him in comfortable silence, you can’t help but feel a little nervous around him now. Everything is different…and that’s exciting, but also terrifying in its own way.
Familiar, but new.
A subtle tension begins to coil in your chest, and then, your stomach betrays you with a low, unmistakable growl. Its soft rumble breaks the quiet moment—catching Satoru’s attention.
“Hungry?” he teases.
“Yeah… I could really use something to eat…” you mutter, almost to yourself, a faint blush creeping into your cheeks.
Satoru’s eyes glint with amusement, and he hums thoughtfully, his thumb tracing idle patterns on the back of your hand.
“Y’know… I should’ve ordered us breakfast in bed. One call, and we could’ve had pancakes, coffee… the works.” Tilting his head, he lets out a playful sigh. “Just think—pancakes and cuddles.”
The thought sends a shiver of warmth through you. His eyes flicker to yours—meeting you with a smirk, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. Nudging him gently with your elbow, you let out a soft, breathy laugh.
“Mmm, that does sound tempting…” you pause, letting the image linger, but then your smile fades slightly—tempered by a tug in your heart.
Haru—is she okay? The wind had howled so fiercely through the night, and you weren’t there to comfort her.
“But… we should get home to Haru…” your voice softens as the concern creeps in, despite your best efforts to hide it.
The teasing gleam in Satoru’s eyes soften into something warmer, more tender.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmurs, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Can’t keep the little princess waiting.”
Once you approach the elevator, Satoru reaches out to press the button. But as you stand there for a brief moment of silence, he glances at you from the corner of his eye—catching sight of your furrowed brow, your lips pressed together in a thin line. Thoughts of Haru cloud your mind—weighing you down. You’re anxious to get home to her.
He leans back against the wall beside the elevator, and then with a subtle movement, you blink as he gently pulls you into his chest.
As his warmth envelops you like a soft blanket, he intertwines both of your hands, holding them between your bodies.
“So…” he sighs, looking down at you affectionately, “pancakes or waffles when we get back?”
The question, so simple yet so thoughtful, pulls you out of your reverie.
“I could definitely go for pancakes,” he adds with a slight grin, leaning in closer, “but I think Haru’s more of a waffle girl, right?”
His thumbs brush gently over your knuckles—a wordless reassurance—and the tension within you slowly begins to fade as you relax into his warmth. Your heart swells that he has caught onto such a small detail regarding Haru.
“Yeah… definitely waffles,” a slow smile spreads up your lips. “She thinks pancakes are too mushy.”
Satoru’s face immediately falls into an exaggerated frown, his lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout.
“Seriously? Too mushy? Aww man… what kind of taste does she have?”
You can’t help but giggle at his expression, but before you can respond, he doubles down on the silliness—his voice dropping into an absurdly serious tone.
“Tch… waffles are just pancakes with abs.”
The deadpan delivery of his words catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, a burst of laughter escapes your lips and Satoru’s grin widens, clearly pleased with himself—soaking in the joy he’s managed to spark.
“See?” he teases, soft but triumphant as he unclasps your hands, only to wrap his arms around you. “Can’t be stressed when you’re thinking about pancakes with abs.”
“How do you even come up with these things?” you shake your head, still smiling.
“What? You know it’s true,” he declares.
His fingers absentmindedly rub against your lower back as he leans down to place a tender kiss upon your temple.
“But I’ll win her over one day. Pancakes will prevail.”
As his words settle, you feel a warm realization blooming in your chest.
Was… he trying to cheer you up?
Leaning into his embrace, you feel the last traces of tension melt away, replaced by a quiet gratitude that fills every corner of your chest. For once, you don’t feel the need to hold everything together alone. With him, it’s safe to let go, to simply be.
Suddenly, the soft ding of the elevator breaks your thoughts, pulling you back to the present—and as the door slides open with a quiet swoosh, you both step in together, welcomed by its faint hum.
After pressing the button to descend, Satoru’s arm slips around your waist, drawing you back against the warmth of his chest. Your heart skips a beat as his hands move slowly across you—gliding up your hips until they settle on your stomach—his fingers splayed gently over the fabric of your dress.
He nuzzles into the curve of your neck, and ripples of pleasure course through your body as he exhales deeply—basking in your presence.
“Satoru…” you whisper, but his name falters on your lips as he dips his head lower, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder and trailing soft, lingering kisses up your neck.
“Mmm?” he hums against your skin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
A quiet, airy laugh escapes you, and you tilt your head slightly, granting him better access.
“What… what are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.
“Just… enjoying this moment,” he murmurs through kisses—inhaling deeply. “Is that okay?”
Oh… this is new. He’s so… affectionate.
“Um… yeah…” you whisper, “it’s… more than okay.”
A deep, contented groan rumbles from his chest, and you feel his hands slide to your sides, his thumbs brushing slowly over your hips in a rhythm that’s both soothing and exhilarating.
“Good…” he exhales, a hint of tension in his voice. “’Cause… I can’t seem to keep my hands off you today…”
A pleasant shiver runs through you as his warmth surrounds you—the solid press of his body so close that it’s all you can feel, all you can breathe in.
Heat floods your cheeks, and just as you’re about to say something, he lets out a shaky sigh—his forehead coming to rest gently against your shoulder—his arms easing into a softer, more measured hold.
“Fuck… sorry,” he breathes. “See what you do to me?” his words come out in a quiet, almost desperate groan. “You drive me insane…”
Your heart races at his admission, and a light, breathless laugh slips from your lips.
“Do I?” you glance back at him.
The moment you catch that look in his eyes, dark and intense, a slow, deliberate smile curves up his lips—something wild simmering beneath the surface.
“More than you know,” he murmurs.
Tilting your head, you hold his gaze—a spark of mischief lighting your own as you manage a small, daring smile.
“Well… maybe I like driving you a little crazy…”
A low groan rumbles in his chest as his grip on your hips tightens with a restraint that feels as delicate as a thread.
“Oh, you’re trouble,” he murmurs, “I’m trying to be respectful here, but you’re really not making it easy.”
A thrill courses through you at his words—your heart racing in your chest. For a brief, dizzying moment, you wonder what it would be like to let him lose that last bit of control.
But…
“We’re… we’re in an elevator Satoru,” you exhale with a growing smile. “And… there are cameras, you know?”
Drawing in a slow breath, his eyes drift shut for a moment—as if gathering himself. Then, he presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, soft yet intense—leaving a warmth in its wake.
“I know, I know,” he mutters reluctantly, “I’ll behave...”
You arch a brow, the faintest smirk touching your lips.
“Really?” you tease, tilting your head. “Because you don’t exactly feel like you’re behaving.”
A deep, rich chuckle escapes him, reverberating against your skin as he leans in.
“Believe me,” his tone dips to a hushed promise, “if I wasn’t behaving… you’d know.”
“…is that so?” you challenge, just above a whisper.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear. “I’d pin you against this wall and kiss you senseless if we weren’t in public…” his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on your hips. “But for now, I’ll settle for this…”
A flush of warmth spreads up your cheeks—his words unraveling you on the inside. You manage a small, steadying breath, clinging to your composure as best as you can.
“Good to know you have some self-control,” you sigh breathlessly. “Although… I didn’t ask you to hold back… entirely.”
A spark of mischief lights his eyes, and in one smooth motion, he loosens his grip on your hips—pulling back just enough to shift the energy. His hands slide down to capture yours, and he spins you around to face him with a gentle tug—interlacing his fingers with yours.
“Don’t tempt me,” an exasperated laugh slips through his lips. “C’mon now… that’s really not fair. I’m seriously hanging by a thread as it is.”
His laugh is contagious, and it pulls one from you, breaking the tension just enough to leave you both grinning.
“Since when did you become such a risk-taker, Mr. Perfect?”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly, almost as if he’s surprised himself.
“Since you started driving me out of my mind,” with a soft sigh, his voice lowers as he brings his forehead to rest gently against yours. “You’ve got me breaking all my rules.”
A warmth blossoms in your chest, his quiet admission stirring something deeper within you.
“I guess… I’m breaking my own rules too…” you admit quietly.
ꨄ
As the limo door closes and the car pulls away from the hotel, you let out a deep, satisfied sigh, sinking back into the plush seat. Stretching your legs out, you slip off your heels with a soft groan of relief, wiggling your sore toes and savoring the freedom.
“Finally,” you murmur, leaning your head back against the seat. “I’m so ready to go home.”
Beside you, Satoru watches—a lazy, amused smile tugging at his lips as he crosses his arms and leans back.
“Mmm... I suppose it was a long night, huh?”
You respond with a dramatic groan—tilting your head back against the seat and letting your eyes flutter shut. The exhaustion from the previous night still lingers—a subtle ache in your muscles.
Will these events ever get any easier? You seriously doubt it.
“That’s an understatement,” you sigh. “No more charity galas for a while, please. I need a serious break.”
A low chuckle escapes him, and you feel the warmth of his hand as he reaches over, his fingers finding yours in a gentle squeeze.
“Oh?” his thumb brushes softly against your knuckles. “Well, well… and here I thought you were starting to enjoy the glamorous life, Mrs. Gojo.”
You open your eyes, turning to give him a look of pure disbelief.
“Enjoy?” you scoff, letting out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Satoru, my feet are still killing me from last night, and my face actually hurts from all that forced smiling. I’m serious. Please, no more galas for a bit. I’m begging you.”
Pressing your hands together in a dramatic plea, your exaggerated gesture pulls a small smirk to the corner of his lips.
“So… you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy the endless small talk, the flashing cameras, the unsolicited life advice?” his tone drips with feigned innocence.
You snort, rolling your eyes as you lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you. With a tired sigh, you murmur,
“If I have to hear one more person ask when we’re expanding our family, I might actually lose it.”
His smirk deepens, a mischievous gleam flickering in his gaze as he leans in a fraction closer.
“Well…” his voice drops to a low, intimate murmur. “I’m more than happy to help with the ‘expanding’ part.”
A flush of warmth rushes to your cheeks—your eyes widening as his words sink in. You lift your head to meet his gaze, but the intensity in his eyes only makes your blush deepen.
“S-Satoru!” you stammer.
He laughs, rich and unrestrained—clearly delighted by your reaction. His eyes glint with mischief as he leans back—stretching his arm along the back of the seat in a languid, confident gesture.
“What?” a wicked grin tugs at his lips. “Just trying to be a supportive husband.”
“You’re impossible,” you mutter, still feeling the warmth on your cheeks as you nudge him with your elbow—a reluctant smile creeping onto your face.
After a moment, you clear your throat, shifting the conversation.
“Speaking of which… Mr. ‘Supportive Husband’… you really threw me off during the interview last night, you know that? Changing the script at the last second?”
He crosses his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Oh, come on. You handled it perfectly. I was impressed.”
Raising an eyebrow, you give him a pointed look.
“Impressed or not, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t panicking. I had everything planned out, rehearsed a dozen times, and then you just… decided to go off-script.” Shaking your head, you sigh in exasperation. “I mean… you know how much I practiced those responses.”
His expression softens, the playful edge fading as he meets your gaze.
“I couldn’t help it. I just… wanted to be honest.”
The words come out quietly, and for a moment, the sincerity in his voice makes your breath catch. You swallow, your mind flashing back to last night.
“Well…” you manage—voice softening as you feel the blush return to your cheeks. “A little warning would’ve been nice. I was just standing there, trying to keep it together while you… well…”
A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans in closer.
“Oh? Did I make you nervous, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, though your heart flutters at his infuriating charm.
“Just… try to give me a heads-up next time you decide to profess your feelings in front of an audience.”
He chuckles again, and this time, his hand finds yours—intertwining your fingers in a gentle, reassuring hold.
“Fair enough,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb softly over your knuckles.
But as his fingers linger, his gaze shifts to the window, his expression tightening ever so slightly. You follow his line of sight, noticing the way his eyes narrow, his jaw setting in subtle concentration.
“Satoru?” a touch of concern creeps into your voice. “Is… everything okay?”
Before he can answer, the driver’s voice crackles through the intercom—calm but cautious.
“Mr. Gojo… I believe we have a vehicle following us. They’ve been on our tail since we left the hotel.”
Satoru’s jaw clenches slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as he narrows his eyes—focused on the dark car trailing a few lengths behind.
“I’m already aware,” he mutters, almost to himself.
Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes land on the vehicle in question—a sleek, shadowy figure weaving through traffic, keeping pace with the limo’s every turn. A prickle of unease begins to settle in your stomach.
“Who are they?”
“Probably just paparazzi. It’s nothing new, trust me. Annoying, but they usually give up after a while.”
But as he says this, his expression betrays a hint of tension—a subtle tightness around his mouth and eyes that doesn’t quite match his nonchalance.
You shift in your seat, feeling a mixture of curiosity and unease as the car continues to follow behind, relentless in its pursuit—clinging to your trail like a shadow.
“And… if they don’t give up?”
A flicker of amusement dances across Satoru’s face, though there’s a guarded glint in his eyes. He lets out a low chuckle and his smirk returns—something unreadable lurking beneath the surface.
“Then Ichiji gives them a little… tour of the city.”
As if on cue, Satoru leans forward, pressing a button on the console to speak to the driver.
“Ichiji,” he calls, “think you can lose our friend back there?”
“Understood, sir.”
The limo surges forward, weaving through the road as it picks up speed—the cityscape flashing by in streaks of light and shadow—side streets you didn’t even know existed.
Satoru’s hand tightens on yours as you feel the controlled chaos of the limo dipping and swaying with each sharp maneuver—slipping through intersections just before traffic lights change.
Ichiji’s skill is apparent as he navigates the city’s maze. Yet, each time you risk a glance over your shoulder; the dark vehicle remains close, mirroring every twist and turn with an unsettling persistence.
Satoru catches your glance, and despite the tension etched into his features, he offers you a small, reassuring smile, though a flicker of irritation sharpens his eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “Ichiji’s handled far worse. It’s just a nuisance—probably some rookie who thinks they’ve found their big break.”
You nod, taking solace in his confidence, but the tension in the car is thick, wrapping around you like a shroud.
After slipping down another narrow street, there’s a fleeting moment where hope blooms—you think you’ve finally lost them, that the shadow has fallen away.
But just as you start to relax, a chill races down your spine. Glancing over your shoulder again, there it is—the dark car, reappearing like a phantom.
Beside you, Satoru’s demeanor shifts, his usual light-hearted smirk fading into something colder, more resolute. He’s not just irritated anymore; he’s assessing, calculating.
“Sir,” the intercom crackles to life—Ichiji’s voice breaking through with a note of frustration. “They’re persistent. I’ve tried several routes, but they’re still on us.”
Satoru’s jaw tightens, though his voice remains calm, almost casual—a stark contrast to the intensity in his gaze.
“Keep going, Ichiji. Let’s see if they’re just stubborn… or genuinely serious.”
The limo surges forward—Ichiji pushing the car into tighter turns.
As the narrow roads and sharp angles blur past, your body sways, and you find yourself slipping into Satoru’s side—his arm instinctively wrapping around you to steady you.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of winding detours and narrow escapes, Ichiji makes a bold maneuver—a sudden, sharp left down an alley barely wide enough for the limo, followed by a swift merge onto a bustling main road.
With the limo straightening, he picks up speed as it merges seamlessly with the traffic—the dark vehicle disappearing into the distance—swallowed by the sea of cars.
Relief washes over you as you look back, and the tension in your body slowly unravels as you sink further into your seat, exhaling a shaky breath.
Satoru lets out his own small sigh, his shoulders loosening as the hard edge in his expression softens slightly.
“Persistent, but not persistent enough,” he mutters, casting a final glance out the rear window before finally turning his full attention back to you.
A relieved laugh slips past your lips—a blend of amusement and exasperation. You quirk a brow and give him a wry smile.
“So… is this, like, the VIP experience of being married to you? Complimentary car chases and all?”
Satoru snorts—a smirk breaking through his calm facade as he chuckles.
“Only the deluxe date package, sweetheart. I aim to impress.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes with a grin. “What’s next? Parachuting out of the jet?”
“Not today,” he lets out a dramatic sigh. “But if you ask nicely, I might arrange it for our next outing,” he adds with a wink.
A soft laugh escapes you, but as the humor fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. The adrenaline from the chase lingers, slowly dissipating into a shared quiet that feels strangely intimate.
Settling back into his seat, Satoru’s gaze drifts to the window—watching the city blur past with a distant, almost contemplative expression—absently tracing gentle patterns on the back of your hand.
You take the opportunity to study him, observing the subtle lines that have eased from his face—for although his hand, still entwined with yours, feels relaxed, there’s something lingering in his eyes.
A guarded look, a shadow of vigilance—as though he’s still braced for the next challenge, the next threat lurking around the corner.
You can’t help but feel a pang of empathy, a longing to understand, to somehow lighten the burdens he doesn’t speak of. And as you sit there, your hand in his, the question rises to the surface, soft but insistent.
“Does it ever get… easier?”
He blinks, pulling his gaze from the window to look at you, a faint surprise flickering in his eyes as he considers your question.
“Easier?” his voice lowers, softened by a hint of weariness. “I guess… you learn to live with it,” his gaze drifts again. “The constant attention, the expectations… it just becomes a part of you, like background noise.”
With a subtle pause, a quiet sigh slips from his lips, barely audible.
“Perhaps it only gets easier to pretend it doesn’t bother me.”
As his confession hangs between you, your heart aches for him—for the weight he’s constantly been forced to carry in silence.
Gently, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, and feeling a surge of tenderness, you shift closer—resting your head against his shoulder in a gesture of quiet support.
“That must have been… hard to grow up with, Satoru.”
A wry smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze dropping to where your hands are entwined.
“Well… when you grow up in a family like mine, you learn early on that everything comes with a price. Privacy, peace, even… happiness.”
He pauses, the faintest shadow crossing his face. You feel his hand tense slightly in yours.
“My father… he was very clear about what he expected, what he considered acceptable.”
A flicker of vulnerability passes through his gaze, and for a brief moment, he seems to struggle, as if wrestling with the decision to reveal more or to keep his past guarded.
His jaw tightens, as he reluctantly mutters, “…and if something threatened that image?”
Tilting your head slightly, your heart aches as you sense the struggle behind his words.
There’s a part of you that dreads the answer, that fears what he might say, but another part—the part that trusts him, that wants to understand—urges you forward.
“What would he do… if something threatened it?”
The silence feels heavy, and Satoru’s gaze grows distant—his eyes unfocused, as if he’s looking at something far beyond the present.
“He’d… handle it,” he pauses, hesitating. “He had a way of making problems… disappear. It didn’t matter what—or who—got in the way.”
A chill runs down your spine, his words settling over you like a shadow. And then, like a whisper carried in the wind, another voice intrudes, one you’d rather forget—Naoya.
‘The Gojo family isn’t as squeaky clean as they’d like everyone to believe’
Swallowing, the knot in your stomach tightens—uncertainty and unease churning within you.
‘Corporate malpractice. Insider trading. Swept under the rug.’
Your mind races with questions, possibilities—fragments of a puzzle that feel just out of reach.
But as you look at Satoru, his profile softened by the passing streetlights, his expression seemingly relaxed yet shadowed by an inner turmoil—you feel an undeniable urge to understand, to know the truth—not from anyone else’s lips but his.
What’s his side of the story?
You chew on the thought, and the question sits heavy on your tongue—tangled with hesitation and a nagging curiosity that prickles under your skin.
Part of you fears what he may reveal; wonders what will come to light if you dare pull back the curtain. But you’ve already made your choice—you have placed your trust in him, and now, it’s time to act on it.
“Hey… Satoru?”
At the sound of your voice, his expression softens, his gaze shifting from the window to meet yours, a faint smile touching his lips
“Hmm?”
Hesitating for a heartbeat, you gather your courage—finding your words.
“There’s… something Naoya said that’s been bothering me.”
Satoru’s brow knits, his relaxed posture shifting as a flicker of apprehension crosses his face. He leans in, subtly closing the distance between you.
“…what did he say?”
You swallow, steadying yourself.
“He mentioned… a court case. Said it was ‘swept under the rug’ by your family.”
At this, a faint tension settles over him, and he glances away—his gaze clouding as though he’s sifting through memories he’d rather not confront.
“Well… Naoya’s not entirely wrong,” he hesitates, a flicker of something heavy in his eyes. “There was a case… years ago, before my father passed. I… wouldn’t say it was ‘swept under the rug’ though.”
Sensing the reluctance in his words, you shift closer, letting your hand rest lightly on his arm—a quiet reassurance that he doesn’t have to face this alone.
“What happened?” you ask gently.
There is a beat of silence—his eyes flickering to yours as he lets out a deep sigh.
“Look… my father was a powerful man,” he begins, low and guarded. “He would do whatever he thought was necessary to protect our family’s legacy. But… at some point, having power like that attracts attention from people who want to exploit it.”
With a subtle pause, he holds your gaze, gauging your reaction—almost as though he’s afraid of what you might think. You offer an encouraging nod—silently urging him to continue.
“They were… dangerous people,” he continues. “At first, they saw my father’s influence as something they could control—a tool to serve their agenda. But when he refused to play along…” his voice trails off, and his lips press into a hard line. “Well, let’s just say they didn’t take it well. The retaliation started subtly—small threats, quiet warnings—but it didn’t take long before things began to escalate.”
A prickling unease creeps up your spine, the revelation unfolding an image of his family’s past that you’d never envisioned.
The Gojos? Entangled in the underworld?
It seems impossible—absurd even. Yet, as you watch the subtle tension drawing across Satoru’s face, the disbelief gives way to a somber realization. His family’s legacy, so polished and prestigious, carries a dark weight that’s been carefully hidden.
A thousand questions rush through your mind, but one stands out, pressing at the forefront.
“These people…” your fingers brush over his arm in a silent promise of support, “who were they?”
His hesitation stretches, the tension deepening in his face as his eyes darken. Swallowing, his gaze drops for a moment before he finally murmurs,
“The yakuza.”
A soft, involuntary gasp escapes you—your breath catching as the gravity of his words sink in.
“The yakuza?”
You stare at him, searching his face, trying to fully comprehend the magnitude of what he’s revealing—though all he offers is a nod, his expression grim.
“I… I had no idea it was that serious,” you stammer. “I… I thought… maybe it was just business rivals or… or people with grudges. But… the yakuza?”
“Yeah… they approached my father, tried to pull him into their world. He resisted… but with people like them, ‘no’ isn’t an option. So, they went after what he valued most—his reputation. That’s why they took him to court.”
As his words sink in, your heart races, a new fear unfurling in your chest, cold and insistent.
If they were willing to tear Satoru’s father down so publicly, to ruin him in order to make a statement, what would stop them from going after what Satoru values most now? The thought sends a ripple of dread through you, heavy and unsettling.
The memory of the car that had tailed you earlier rises unbidden in your mind. Was it really just… paparazzi? Or could it have been something more sinister? The possibility claws at you, leaving a hollow ache of unease that tightens around your chest, raw and suffocating.
And then, almost as if summoned by that fear, Haru’s innocent face flashes across your mind—her bright eyes, her soft laughter. The mere thought of her being anywhere near this kind of danger wraps around you like a vice, filling you with a terror that threatens to spill over.
“Satoru…” your voice trembles, the panic creeping in as you whisper, “If they were willing to go to those lengths… what does this mean for us? For Haru?”
Noticing the anxiety bubbling within you, Satoru’s expression softens as his hand finds yours—warm and steady, a reassuring grip.
“Hey… you don’t have to worry about that. Not anymore,” his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “My father… he dealt with them. He put their kanbu—Toji Zenin—in jail. Since then, they’ve kept quiet.”
Toji Zenin…
As the name rolls off his tongue it lingers in your mind, echoing, triggering something faintly familiar.
“Zenin?” you repeat, eyes widening as the realization dawns. “Did you say… Toji Zenin?”
He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as a faint crease forms between his brows. Nodding slowly, his gaze is steady but laced with quiet concern.
“Yeah… Toji Zenin. Why?”
The pieces fall together in a chilling clarity—a cold, uncomfortable realization settling over you like a shadow. Your pulse pounds in your ears, and your mouth goes dry.
“Satoru…” you inhale sharply. “Naoya’s last name… it’s Zenin.”
A heavy silence fills the car, pressing in from all sides, suffocating in its intensity. Satoru’s eyes widen, a crack in his usual composure—a flicker of shock as he absorbs the implications of your words.
“Naoya… is a Zenin?” he murmurs, barely above a whisper.
Leaning back, he releases a sharp exhale as though the weight of this new knowledge has landed squarely on his shoulders. His gaze shifts, unfocused, as he absorbs the impact.
“Well,” he mutters, almost to himself, “that explains a lot...”
But his reaction only sharpens the tendrils of fear coiling around your heart, constricting until it’s hard to breathe.
Your thoughts spiral, slipping beyond your control—images of Haru’s innocent face, of your family thrown into turmoil, of everything you and Satoru are trying to build, crumbling under the threat that looms over you.
“Satoru… this… this isn’t just some family feud, is it?” you struggle to keep your composure. “If Naoya’s related to Toji, he won’t just… let this go. Oh god… what are we going to do?”
Satoru’s expression softens at the panic rising in your tone, and without a word, he shifts closer, reaching out to anchor you. One hand finds yours, wrapping around it in a steadying grip, while his other rises to cradle your face, grounding you in his touch.
“Hey… shhh, look at me,” his thumb traces a gentle line down your cheek. “I will handle this. I won’t let anything happen to you or to Haru. I promise.”
Searching his face, you are drawn to the quiet intensity of his eyes—the fierce protectiveness simmering beneath his calm demeanor. Despite the fear gnawing at you, there’s a flicker of reassurance, a warmth spreading from his touch—one that eases the tension in your chest.
“I know this feels overwhelming…” he soothes, “but I guarantee you, whatever Naoya or his family think they can do, they won’t succeed. Not while I’m here. I don’t care who Naoya is or what he thinks he’s capable of. He won’t touch you. He won’t come close to Haru. Not now, not ever.”
The calm certainty in his voice wraps around you, dispelling the worst of the shadows lurking in your mind. Drawing a shaky breath, you nod—clinging to his steady presence as his words sink in.
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours.
“You’re safe with me,” his gentle breath fans your face as he caresses your cheek. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together. I’ll protect you… protect our family. I need you to trust me on this sweetheart.”
You squeeze his hand, finding strength in his resolve, in the steady rhythm of his breathing—and for a moment, enveloped in his warmth and the comfort of his words, you allow yourself to believe—if only for a little while—that you’re safe.
ꨄ
As the door of the Gojo estate clicks shut behind you, the hurried patter of small feet echoes down the hall. Haru rounds the corner, her small frame skidding slightly as she sees you—eyes wide with relief but a little red-rimmed.
“Mama!”
Her bottom lip quivers as she reaches for you, and her little arms are stretched out as far as they can go—desperate and open.
Dropping to your knees just in time, she crashes into you—her small hands clinging desperately to your shoulders as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.
“Oh, sweet girl,” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. “I missed you too, baby. It’s okay. Mama’s here.”
It’s all you can do to hold her close, stroking her back in soothing circles as her quiet whimpers are muffled against you. Then, lifting your gaze, you catch the nanny’s gentle, sympathetic smile from where she stands nearby—watching the reunion with soft eyes.
“How was she?” you ask quietly.
The nanny gives a small, reassuring nod.
“She was very brave,” she says kindly. “The storm shook her up a bit, but she’s been a trooper.”
Stepping beside you, Satoru’s comforting hand rests on your shoulder as he listens—his gaze softening as he looks down at Haru nestled against you. He turns to the nanny, and offers a grateful smile.
“Thank you for staying with her through the night. We really appreciate it.”
The nanny smiles, her gaze flickering to Haru, who is now sniffling quietly in your arms.
“Of course, Mr. Gojo. She’s a sweetheart.” Leaning down, she pats Haru’s head gently and whispers, “Bye Haru. Take care, little one.”
With that, she gathers her things and quietly slips out, leaving the three of you in the quiet of the entryway.
But as the door clicks shut, Haru’s small hands cling even tighter to you, showing no signs of letting up. Her hold is firm, as though she’s afraid you’ll slip away the moment she loosens her grip.
Kneeling down beside you, Satoru reaches out a tentative hand, brushing his fingers gently over her hair.
“Hey, Haru,” he clears his throat softly. “I’m… glad you’re safe. You had me and your Mama worried, you know.”
Haru shifts a little but keeps her face buried against your shoulder, her grip on you unwavering, causing Satoru’s hopeful smile to falter just a touch. He glances up at you, searching for reassurance.
Your heart swells at his expression. This is uncharted territory for him, and though his effort is sincere, there’s an unmistakable hint of awkwardness, a subtle vulnerability as he tries to connect.
But you’re grateful he’s trying, grateful for the patience he’s showing even when Haru’s response isn’t what he hoped for.
Offering an encouraging smile, you squeeze his hand briefly before looking down at Haru.
“Haru,” you say softly, rocking her slightly, “Satoru’s here too. And you know what? I think he missed you a lot.”
Haru’s little arms only tighten around you in response, her small face nestled firmly against your neck. There’s a hint of a pout in her expression as she stubbornly clings to you, seemingly unimpressed by Satoru’s efforts to engage.
With a soft sigh, Satoru’s shoulders slump slightly as he scratches the back of his neck.
“Guess I’ll have to work harder to get on her good side today…” he murmurs, trying to mask the slight discouragement in his voice.
“She’s just a little shaken up,” you reassure him, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. “She’ll come around.”
Determined not to give up, Satoru’s expression shifts, a glint of playful determination lighting up his gaze.
Leaning in a little closer, his voice softens, adopting a gentle, almost sing-song tone as he tries again—this time with a different approach.
“Haruuu~” he coaxes, drawing out her name with a gentle smile. “What if we make waffles for breakfast? Would you like that?”
At the mention of waffles, Haru’s grip loosens ever so slightly. Slowly, she peeks out from the safety of your shoulder, her wide eyes darting toward Satoru with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Her little brows knit together as she seems to weigh her options, the slightest glimmer of interest flickering in her gaze.
Satoru notices, his eyes lighting up with a renewed sense of hope. Seizing the moment, he leans in a little closer.
“We can make them together. Extra syrup, extra whipped cream… just how you like it!”
Haru considers this for a moment, still clutching you but her gaze locked on Satoru—deciding whether his offer is worth leaving her safe place. Then, her small voice, barely above a whisper, asks tentatively,
“…with strawberries?”
Satoru’s face brightens, a wide smile breaking across his features as he nods enthusiastically.
“With as many strawberries as you want,” he promises. “We’ll pile them up nice and high. Just for you, princess.”
ꨄ
In the cozy warmth of the kitchen, the scent of waffles and melted butter fills the air. Satoru—who hasn’t spent much time at the stove since his first impromptu cooking session with you—fumbles slightly with the waffle iron, his fingers awkward as he glances over at you for guidance every few seconds.
“Careful,” you murmur, stepping forward just in time to guide his hand as he nearly overfills the iron. “Remember, less is more.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.
“Right. I was just… testing the limits.”
Rolling your eyes, you nudge him gently with a grin.
“Uh-huh. Sure you were.”
“I wanna put the toppings on!” Haru chimes in excitedly, bouncing slightly on her toes as she stands beside him on a step stool—a can of whipped cream clutched in one hand and a bowl of sliced strawberries in the other.
“Hold on, little chef,” Satoru grins, gently steadying her, a hand on her back. “We gotta make sure the waffle’s just right first. Can’t rush perfection.”
Puffing her cheeks, Haru lets out an exaggerated huff as the waffle iron starts to hiss and steam.
“It’s taking forever,” she complains. “Mama doesn’t take this long.”
Satoru arches a brow in amusement, and you chuckle softly from the counter where you’ve discreetly started mixing a separate batch of pancake batter.
“That’s because Mama knows what she’s doing,” you tease, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru with a smirk.
Clutching his chest, Satoru gasps in mock offense.
“Wow. Betrayed by my own wife. Right in front of our sous-chef.”
Haru giggles at his exaggerated reaction.
“Mama’s the boss,” she declares confidently—holding up her can of whipped cream like a trophy.
“You know what?” Satoru sighs, his grin softening. “You’re absolutely right. Without her, I’d probably burn this whole kitchen down.”
You chuckle, stepping closer and leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“You’re sweet,” you say softly. “But I trust you to handle this. I’m gonna prep something else over there.”
He blinks—a surprised but pleased smile tugging at his lips—eyes glimmering with amusement.
“Wait, you’re leaving me in charge? Bold move, Mrs. Gojo.”
“Very bold,” you reply with a smirk, backing away toward the counter. “But I have faith in you. Just keep an eye on the steam. You’re in charge of waffles and keeping Haru entertained. And don’t let her eat all the toppings before the waffles are done.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with playful seriousness, saluting you with the ladle.
As the waffles cook, you finish mixing the pancake batter and quietly heat the pan—keeping an ear on their conversation. Satoru is showing Haru how to hold the whipped cream can steady, but Haru protests the second he sneaks a strawberry slice from her pile.
“Hey! Those are mine!” she pouts, reaching out to swat his hand away as she clutches the bowl protectively against her chest.
“Quality control,” he argues, popping the strawberry into his mouth. “Someone’s gotta make sure they’re not poisoned.”
“No stealing!” she declares, shoving her own strawberry into her mouth with an exaggerated defiance.
Shaking your head, a quiet laugh escapes you as you pour pancake batter onto the hot pan. The soft sizzle of batter meeting the heat blends seamlessly with the chatter and laughter filling the kitchen.
A few minutes later, Satoru triumphantly announces, “Waffle’s done!” as he carefully lifts the golden creation from the iron and places it on a plate.
Haru squeals with delight—already reaching for the whipped cream as he sets the plate in front of her.
“Careful, careful,” Satoru warns, steadying the plate with one hand while Haru applies a generous swirl of whipped cream, her tongue sticking out in concentration.
“There we go—masterpiece in the making.”
While they’re distracted, you quietly finish stacking a plate of pancakes, adding a pat of butter and just the right drizzle of syrup—exactly how you know Satoru likes. The warm aroma wafts upward as you carefully carry the plate to the table, setting it down without a word.
Haru, oblivious, is busy adding strawberries to her waffle with a proud grin, but Satoru’s sharp eyes catch the movement—he pauses mid-motion, his attention snapping to the pancakes. As his eyes widen slightly, his expression shifts to one of boyish delight.
“You made those?” he asks, stepping closer to the table.
You smile, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “Well, someone mentioned earlier that they were more in the mood for pancakes.”
A slow grin spreads across his face as he steps toward you, his hands settling on your waist as he pulls you into a gentle hug from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder, and his voice softens.
“You spoil me, you know that?” he murmurs.
Tilting your head slightly, a soft laugh escapes you as you glance at him.
“Mmm… well, someone has to keep you in line.”
Haru, catching the exchange, glances up from her waffle with a small pout.
“Hey! What about me?” she asks, holding up her masterpiece. “Look at my waffle!”
Satoru straightens up, feigning shock.
“Oh, wow, Haru! That’s the most beautiful waffle I’ve ever seen. Way better than mine, for sure.”
Her pout shifts to a triumphant grin.
“I know,” she says, plopping a strawberry into her mouth.
ꨄ
The sound of the doorbell echoes through the estate just as you’re finishing your last few bites of breakfast. Haru, seated on her highchair, barely glances up from her waffle masterpiece—her tiny hands busy scooping up a dollop of whipped cream.
You glance at Satoru, curious.
“Are we expecting someone?”
He straightens in his chair, casually wiping his mouth before tossing his napkin onto the table with an ease that feels practiced.
“Yeah, I called him first thing this morning.”
Your eyes narrow on him as he rises from his seat.
“Called who?”
But before he can answer, Ichiji steps into the kitchen doorway, his posture as poised as always.
“Mr. Gojo—Mr. Geto is here to see you.”
“Suguru?” you tilt your head, and your fork clinks softly against the plate as you set it down—muttering softly, “I didn’t know he was coming today.”
“Figures,” a familiar, exasperated voice chimes in. “That’s because someone didn’t give you a heads-up.”
Turning towards the kitchen entrance, you spot Suguru Geto stepping into view. He’s every bit as composed as you remember—dressed sharply in a tailored black suit that perfectly complements his tall, lean frame—though his polished appearance doesn’t disguise the easygoing air he carries.
His leather briefcase dangles casually from one hand, and his eyes flicker to you—a polite smile tugging at his lips.
“y/n, nice to see you again.”
“Likewise,” you reply, matching his smile with your own.
Then, Suguru’s attention shifts seamlessly to Satoru, his expression sliding into something closer to feigned annoyance.
“Well,” he exhales dramatically, running a hand through his loosely tied-back hair, “I see you’re wasting no time dragging me into your messes, huh?”
“Our messes,” Satoru corrects smoothly, leaning back against the counter with a grin that radiates shamelessness. He gestures toward the table, a silent invitation for Suguru to join you. “I thought we agreed—you’re part of this circus now.”
Arching a brow, Suguru shakes his head in amused resignation as he steps further into the room.
“Oh, is that what we agreed? Must’ve missed the memo.”
As he approaches the table, his gaze slides back to you, softening slightly.
“And how are you holding up, y/n? Still surviving the whirlwind that is Gojo Satoru?”
A chuckle escapes you as you wipe Haru’s syrup-sticky hands with a wet napkin.
“Barely, but I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
Suguru hums thoughtfully, nodding with approval.
“Good,” he says with a wry smile. “You’ll need to keep up that resilience.”
Setting his sleek briefcase down on the counter with a soft thud, his tone shifts ever so slightly, as he steadily says,
“I’ll be representing you in court.”
The weight of his words settles over the room, a sobering reminder of the battle ahead. Yet, as Haru swirls her fork eagerly through her syrup and giggles softly, her blissful innocence seems to lighten the tension just enough.
“Thank you,” you say earnestly, your gaze meeting his. “I… really appreciate it.”
Suguru offers a confident smile, his presence radiating assurance.
“Don’t mention it,” he takes a seat next to you. “We’ll go over everything. There’s a lot to cover, but we’ll take it one step at a time. I’m here to make sure you’re prepared.”
From his spot against the counter, Satoru chimes in, his grin practically glowing.
“See? I told you he’s the best.”
Rolling his eyes, Suguru’s fingers deftly adjust the cuffs of his sleeves.
“Flattery won’t make this any easier, you know,” he quips dryly, though the hint of a grin betrays his amusement. “But I hope you realize you owe me for this. This isn’t exactly light work. Maybe start with some coffee.”
Satoru laughs, stepping over to clap a hand on Suguru’s shoulder with playful force.
“Anything for my favorite lawyer.”
“Favorite?” Suguru deadpans, arching a skeptical brow. “I’m fairly certain I’m your only lawyer.”
“Details,” Satoru quips, his grin widening. “Besides, no one else could handle me.”
Suguru sighs, shaking his head in mock defeat as a small smirk pulls at his lips.
“On that, we agree,” he mutters dryly.
ꨄ
The Gojo study hums with a quiet tension, but the rustle of paper punctuates the stillness as Suguru methodically spreads neatly labeled folders across the polished desk.
In the distance, Haru’s delighted laughter echoes faintly through the halls, a gentle reminder of her presence as Ichiji keeps her entertained—a task assigned by Satoru to ensure your conversation remains undisturbed.
Leaning against the desk, stands Satoru—arms crossed over his chest. But the absence of his trademark smirk is striking, replaced by a rare focus.
His crystalline blue eyes are sharp, intent, as they flit to you, then to Suguru.
“I appreciate you coming on such short notice,” he begins, low and unusually steady. “Look… there’s a lot we need to get ahead of…”
Suguru waves off the gratitude with a flick of his wrist, flipping open a folder.
“No problem. I’m used to you dragging me into your messes, remember?” His lips tug into a faint smirk. “Besides, this one’s actually important.”
Sitting across from Suguru, you shift in your seat, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The weight of uncertainty presses against your chest as your eyes drift to Satoru, who stands as if bracing himself to deliver a blow.
“Suguru,” he begins, tone sharpening, “we found out something big. About Naoya.”
Suguru’s brow arches in mild curiosity, but he continues thumbing through the documents, waiting for Satoru to continue.
“He’s a Zenin.”
The folder in Suguru’s grasp stills—freezing mid turn. His dark eyes flick up, recognition flaring in his gaze, followed swiftly by something colder, heavier.
“A Zenin?”
“Yup,” pushing off the desk, Satoru leans forward to plant both palms on its polished surface. “He’s got more resources than we thought. We’re not just dealing with some rich, bitter ex—we’re going up against the yakuza.”
Suguru exhales sharply, leaning back in his chair as his fingers rub at his chin. The lines of his face sharpen, his usual easygoing demeanor slipping into something far more calculating.
“Zenin… Naoya Zenin…” he mutters, almost to himself, then, a wry smile ghosts across his lips, void of any warmth. “Of course, it’s him. I knew the name sounded familiar.”
You lean forward slightly, soft but urgent.
“You know him?”
As Suguru’s gaze flickers to you, his expression darkens—he nods.
“We went to the same law school. Different years, but our paths crossed a few times.” Shaking his head, he lets out a low, humorless chuckle. “He’s… not exactly the type you forget.”
Your breath hitches as you glance at Satoru, who straightens slightly—a glimmer of curiosity breaking through the severity in his expression.
“You’re kidding…” his head tilts as he studies Suguru. “What was he like?”
Suguru snorts softly, but the sound carries no humor.
“Arrogant. Ruthless. He’d throw anyone under the bus if it meant getting ahead—professors, classmates, even so-called friends. And he did it with a smile, like it was a game. He was top of his class, but not because he was the smartest. No, Naoya Zenin was the most cutthroat. Every victory he claimed was calculated, every move designed to humiliate someone else.”
Satoru’s jaw tightens at the description, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of the desk.
“Sounds about right,” he mutters under his breath.
But as Suguru’s dark eyes sharpen, a flicker of protectiveness flash within them as he turns to you.
“If he’s tied to the yakuza, we need to be strategic. This isn’t just a custody battle anymore—it’s a power play. He’s going to use every trick in the book to undermine you, y/n.”
The knot in your stomach tightens, your hands clasping harder in your lap as you force yourself to speak.
“…what do we do?”
Leaning forward, Suguru rests his elbows on the desk as he fixes you with a steady gaze.
“We build your case airtight. Document everything—your role in Haru’s life, your finances, your relationship with Satoru. We highlight what’s best for her, and we get ahead of whatever dirt he’s going to try to throw your way.”
Satoru plops down in the seat beside you—a casualness that doesn’t quite match his intensity. As he kicks up his feet, his lips twist into a determined scowl.
“And if he steps out of line,” he grits, “we make sure he regrets it.”
Suguru raises a brow at Satoru’s bluntness but doesn’t refute him. Instead, he turns his attention back to you, his expression softening slightly.
“If Naoya’s involved, he’ll stop at nothing to win. But that also makes him predictable—at least to someone who knows how he operates. And fortunately for you, I do. His yakuza connections might make him dangerous, but they also make him vulnerable if we play this right.”
Nodding slowly, the steady conviction in Suguru’s voice grounds you, even as the gravity of the situation sinks in. But then, as your gaze shifts to Satoru, you catch sight of him, leaning back further—his hands clasped behind his head as a faint smirk tugs at his lips.
“Well,” he exhales with a playful glint, “if anyone can turn this into an advantage, it’s you, Suguru.”
Arching a brow, Suguru’s lips curve into a wry smile.
“More flattery, huh? You must really want me to win this.”
Satoru’s grin widens, his signature charm slipping back into place as he shrugs.
“Hey, I’m just giving credit where credit’s due. Besides, I’m kind of depending on you here.”
Rolling his eyes, the faintest trace of a smirk lingers on Suguru as he settles back in his chair.
“Don’t worry,” he reassures. “By the time I’m done, Naoya won’t know what hit him.”
The moment feels lighter, more hopeful, but it’s short-lived as Suguru turns his attention back to you. The weight of his gaze is discerning, his tone shifting into something sharper, more direct.
“All right, y/n,” he begins, flipping open a folder and grabbing a pen. “Let’s get into it. I need to know everything about your history with Haru—how long you’ve cared for her, the kind of stability you’ve provided. What does your day-to-day with her look like?”
You blink, caught off guard by the abrupt shift in tone, but you clear your throat and nod.
“Right… um, well, I’ve been her primary caregiver since she was born. I—”
Suguru lifts a hand, halting you mid-sentence.
“Actually, let’s start from the very beginning. What were the circumstances that led to Haru? Your relationship with Naoya? The more details, the better.”
As the question lingers in the air, you hesitate—your gaze dropping to your hands while your fingers twist anxiously in your lap.
Talking about Haru is easy—she’s your light, your joy. But the road that brought you to her… that’s where the cracks lie.
With a deep breath, you’re unable to meet Suguru’s steady gaze, so instead, you glance toward Satoru.
He’s leaning forward now—elbows resting on his thighs, watching you intently. There is an unwavering reassurance in his soft expression, urging you to continue.
Holding onto that look for a moment, you let it push you forward.
“Haru wasn’t planned,” you admit quietly, voice trembling slightly. “At first, it was… okay. Naoya was never exactly hands-on, but he wasn’t hostile either. I think… back then, maybe he thought Haru might be useful to him someday.”
Suguru’s pen doesn’t pause as he scribbles notes, his eyes briefly flicking up to meet yours.
“Useful? In what way?”
You shift uncomfortably—your hands continuing to twist in your lap.
“To him, it was always about control,” the words come slower now, as if you’re piecing them together. “Having a child—especially one he thought he could… shape—meant he could use her somehow, like leverage. But when he realized Haru was… more work than he expected, he just… started pulling away.”
Satoru’s jaw sets tightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. Leaning back slightly, his fingers drum sharply against the armrest of the chair as Suguru presses gently.
“Pulling away how?”
You hesitate, your voice quieter now.
“He started coming home less… and when he was home, it was like walking on eggshells. Nothing was ever good enough—how I held her, how I fed her, how I…” Drawing in a shaky breath, your voice wavers slightly. “How I was raising her. He had an opinion about everything. I couldn’t do anything right.”
Suguru’s pen stills, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he listens intently. Across from you, Satoru’s posture stiffens further, and you can see his knuckles whitening where they grip the armrest.
“I was young and scared,” your voice wavers, tinged with a quiet shame. “And I thought… I thought I could change him. That maybe things would get better.”
Your gaze drops to your lap again, your fingers twisting together so tightly it feels like your knuckles might split.
“But… they didn’t. If anything, they got worse. He would question every choice I made as a mother. And when I tried to stand up for myself…”
Trailing off, the memories send a familiar shiver down your spine—your body trembling slightly as you attempt to take in a deep, shaky breath.
“y/n,” Suguru’s voice pulls you back gently, and his gaze is steady, though there’s a slight edge of concern to it. “This is important. Was there ever any… abuse? Emotional or otherwise?”
Unable to look up, you can feel both men’s eyes on you—Suguru’s sharp and calculating, Satoru’s burning with barely restrained anger. Cautiously, you take in another shaky breath.
“It… depends on what you define as abuse. He never hit me, if that’s what you mean. But he didn’t have to,” pausing, your hands twist tighter in your lap. “There were times… when he’d get angry, really angry, and he’d slam things—doors, tables. It was enough to make me… worry about pushing him too far.”
The room is suffocatingly silent as your words hang in the air.
As the pressure builds in your chest, the shame coils tighter with each second that passes. Speaking the truth aloud feels like ripping open an old wound—exposing the raw, aching parts of yourself that you’ve worked so hard to keep hidden.
For a moment, you wish you could take it all back, swallow the words and let them die in your throat. But then you think of Haru—her tiny hands reaching for yours, her laughter echoing faintly through the estate.
This isn’t just about you anymore. It never was.
But as the trembling in your fingers begins to spread to your shoulders, you force yourself to breathe, to focus—though the weight of their stares only crush you further.
Is this what it feels like to be seen? To have someone actually listen?
“Is… is that enough?” you whisper, the question trembling as it leaves your lips.
“Oh, it’s enough,” Satoru’s voice cuts through suddenly, snapping your eyes up to meet his. The restrained rage is radiating off him like heat. But then his gaze softens—just slightly—and when it meets yours, you see something else beneath the anger.
Something quieter, deeper. A promise.
“More than enough…” he murmurs.
Swallowing hard, you’re unsure if the tears welling in your eyes are from relief or the overwhelming vulnerability coursing through you.
You’ve handed them a piece of yourself you’ll never get back, and yet, for the first time, you don’t feel entirely alone in carrying it.
“y/n,” Suguru begins, leaning forward slightly, “what you’re describing… controlling behavior, intimidation, emotional manipulation—that is abuse.”
There’s a quiet emphasis in his words, as if he’s trying to make sure you truly hear him.
“Even if he didn’t put his hands on you, using fear and control to keep you in line is just another way to break someone without leaving a mark.”
His acknowledgement is both freeing and suffocating—and as the truth of his words sink in slowly, for a moment, all you can do is nod—your throat too tight to form a proper response.
“I think we’ve covered enough for today,” Satoru says suddenly, leaving no room for argument. He rises from his seat. “We can pick this back up tomorrow.”
Opening his mouth to protest, the words are poised on the tip of Suguru’s tongue, but Satoru silences him with a single sharp glance and a slight shake of his head—not aggressive, but firm.
“She’s been through enough for one day,” his gaze flickers to you, and the edge of his earlier anger melts away into something gentler as he murmurs, “let her breathe.”
Suguru hesitates, studying Satoru for a moment, before letting out a sigh. He leans back in his chair, snapping his folder shut with a quiet click.
“Alright…” he concedes, “We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”
The tension in the room eases slightly as Suguru begins to gather his papers, but your body remains taut—like a string pulled too tightly.
Managing a small nod, gratitude blooms in your chest, though you’re not sure how to voice it. Your lips part to say something to Satoru—anything—but the words refuse to come.
Stepping closer, Satoru reaches your side, and he crouches slightly, bringing himself closer to your eye level. As he lifts his hand, his fingers graze your cheek, softly tucking back a loose strand of your hair.
“Come on,” he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”
And for the first time since the conversation began, you feel like you can finally exhale.
ꨄ
After Suguru leaves, Satoru doesn’t say much about your conversation in the study. There are no heavy discussions, no probing questions. Instead, his actions do the talking—offering a steadying presence that words could never match.
He eases you into a rhythm that feels unhurried and safe, and at the center of it all is Haru—her bright energy pulling you both into her orbit like a tiny sun—melting away all lingering shadows of worry.
It’s just the three of you—embracing the gentle cadence of togetherness—the hours blurring into a soft haze of tender moments, strung together like beads on a necklace.
Though what surprises you most, is Satoru.
He’s not the detached observer you’ve come to expect but something entirely different—present, engaged, and effortlessly intertwined in the fabric of the day.
Perhaps it’s the shift in your relationship—the silent understanding that this isn’t a charade anymore. Or maybe it’s his resolve to carve out a meaningful connection with Haru, to find his own place in her world.
Whatever the reason, he is there, fully and completely.
When Haru launches into a vivid narration of her stuffed animals’ daring adventures, Satoru listens with rapt attention, as if each word holds the weight of an epic tale.
Later, when she declares it’s time for an impromptu tea party, he folds his tall frame onto the floor without hesitation,
The sight is almost absurd—this man, so completely out of place yet so effortlessly part of it all. And as the day fades into evening, his presence remains constant, even as the tempo slows.
With bedtime arriving, he follows you and Haru to her room, lingering in the warm glow of her nightly routine. It’s the first time he’s joined you, yet there’s something achingly natural about it—him sitting cross-legged on the floor as you read her favorite story—the three of you together in that small, cozy space.
It’s almost as if this is how it’s always been, or perhaps how it was always meant to be—because now that the facade has fallen away, there’s a quiet sincerity in the way Satoru moves through this new dynamic, as though he’s made the deliberate choice to truly belong to it.
But when Haru’s eyelids grow heavier, her small body relaxes in your arms, and Satoru suddenly rises to his feet.
Glancing up at him, a question flickers in your gaze, but he only steps closer, slow and unhurried.
“I have to take care of something,” he whispers quietly, leaning down to brush a featherlight kiss upon your temple. “Finish up here. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
Arching a brow, you study how his lips curve into the faintest smirk—but not wanting to disturb Haru’s peaceful state, you simply offer him a subtle nod as he quietly steps out of the room.
The door closes with a soft click, leaving you alone with Haru—and the room feels a touch emptier without him.
Focusing your attention back to her, you hum a quiet lullaby, feeling her breathing grow deeper, steadier, until at last, she’s fully surrendered to sleep.
Slowly, as not to wake her, you rise from your seat and carefully lower her into her bed—smoothing the blanket over her small frame and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her peaceful expression tugs at your heart, and you whisper a soft goodnight before tiptoeing to the door.
Closing the door gently behind you, the soft click of the latch settles into the stillness of the hallway, and for a moment, you linger there, exhaling deeply as you close your eyes briefly—letting the day’s weight slip from your shoulders.
It’s been quite a day… and this is only the beginning…
But once you turn to head down the hallway, something catches your eye—something unexpected.
Just outside Haru’s door, lies a delicate trail of flower petals—soft pinks and whites, scattered purposefully across the floor, stretching out before you like a whispered invitation.
You blink, your brows furrowing in curiosity as you step closer. The petals wind down the hallway, forming a path that seems to beckon you forward.
A small, amused smile tugs at your lips as a thought flickers in your mind.
What on earth is Satoru up to now?
Following the petals, your bare feet pad lightly against the polished wood, and eventually, they lead you to the top of the staircase—cascading down the steps in a soft, scattered rhythm.
You move forward—descending the stairs, pursuing the trail that spills into the expansive space of the Gojo estate. The petals seem to playfully weave through the living area, pulling you deeper into the quiet elegance of the house.
But as the trail leads you through the kitchen, where the petals curve gently around the island in a playful arc, your gaze follows the path to the French doors, slightly ajar at the far end of the kitchen.
The sheer curtains ripple softly, brushing against the doorframe as the night breeze slips through, and with it, the breeze carries a faint crackle of fire—tugging at your curiosity.
Your heart quickens in anticipation as you step closer, nudging the doors open. The cool air greets you first, but as you step out onto the deck, the sight before you takes your breath away.
The space is utterly transformed.
A canopy of fairy lights stretches overhead—draped elegantly between tall, polished beams that frame the space in a way that feels both intimate and magical—as if the stars themselves have been drawn closer just for this moment.
And at the heart of the deck, a sleek fire pit burns steadily—its flames dancing in a quiet symphony of amber and gold. The flickering light spills across the rich wood of the deck, and the plush outdoor seats—casting shadows that sway with the rhythm of the fire.
To your left, the gentle bubbling of a hot tub catches your attention.
Steam rises from its surface, curling into the night air in lazy spirals, before dissolving into the cool breeze. It’s nestled into a private nook, bordered by sculpted planters. Small lanterns are tucked among the foliage, creating halos of warmth—a secluded sanctuary.
To your right, the deck stretches out toward an infinity pool that gleams like liquid glass under the fairy lights.
The water ripples faintly, mirroring the twinkling canopy above the deep indigo sky. And as the pool’s edge vanishes into the darkness, it blends seamlessly with the garden’s manicured hedges and flowerbeds.
But your gaze is inevitably drawn back to the center of the deck—to him.
Satoru.
Illuminated by the flickering firelight, you catch sight of him leaning casually against one of the polished beams—a picture of effortless elegance.
His white hair shimmers under the canopy lights, and beside him, sits a low coffee table. A bottle of champagne rests on the surface, nestled in an ice bucket, and a tray of chocolate truffles lies alongside it, arranged with deliberate care.
With one hand tucked in his pocket, his posture is relaxed—exuding that effortless air of confidence. His other hand cradles a champagne flute, dangling it delicately between his fingers.
Then, as you meet his gaze, his lips tug up into that faint lopsided smile—the one that always seems to hold a thousand meanings—none of which he’ll ever fully explain.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Took ya long enough.”
The hand in his pocket moves toward the champagne—his fingers brushing the neck of the bottle with an idle, almost careless grace. Tilting his head slightly, his eyes catch the light while his smile deepens.
“Was starting to think you got lost.”
The familiar humor in his tone pulls a soft laugh from your lips, but it’s the look in his eyes that makes your breath hitch—soft, unguarded, and entirely yours.
As you step forward, your feet brush against the soft petals, scattered across the deck.
“What’s all this, Satoru?”
His eyes soften, though the playful curve of his grin doesn’t waver. With a smooth motion, he uncorks the champagne—the quiet pop breaking the stillness.
“Mmm… just something you deserve.”
Pouring the champagne into both glasses, his eyes flick up to meet yours, a playful glint sparking in their depths.
“Lately, you’ve been carrying the world on your shoulders. Tonight… let me take a little of that weight.”
You blink, his words settling heavily in your chest as he steps closer, holding the glass out to you. As you take the glass from him, your fingers brush his briefly, and the simple touch sends a shiver skimming across your skin.
“You… didn’t have to do all this.”
His expression softens further, and his free hand reaches for yours—a touch warm and steady as your fingers gently intertwine.
“I know… but I wanted to. You’ve had a hell of a day, sweetheart. You deserve something special.”
Your lips part as if to respond, but the words catch in your throat—stolen by the sincerity in his voice and the way his thumbs brush softly over your knuckles. His gaze makes it impossible to think, let alone speak.
Tilting his head slightly, his grin widens, and that spark of playfulness returns to his expression.
“C’mon now,” he murmurs, a soft drawl, “are you gonna let me spoil you? Or are you planning to argue with me all night?”
A quiet laugh escapes you—breaking through the lump in your throat as you shake your head lightly, bringing the champagne glass to your lips.
“Oh, I don’t know… arguing with you is kind of my favorite pastime…”
His brows lift, amusement flickering across his face as he leans just slightly closer.
“Oh, is that so? Well, sweetheart, I hate to break it to ya, but you’re not winning this one.”
“Fine,” you sigh, smiling. “But… only because you’re impossible to argue with when you look at me like that.”
His grin deepens, a flicker of triumph lighting his expression as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.
“Smart choice,” he winks, tilting his head toward the seating area. “Now, c’mon. Let’s sit.”
Leading you towards the fire pit, the moment you both reach the couch, he releases your hand—gesturing with a playful flourish.
“After you, princess.”
Rolling your eyes, you sink into the cushions. The heat from the firepit warms your skin as he settles beside you, close enough that your knees subtly brush.
For a moment, the world feels smaller—just the two of you, the crackle of the fire, and the faint hum of the night. Sipping your champagne, the bubbles fiz gently on your tongue as you glance sideways at him.
He leans back, draping one arm along the back of the couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes focused solely on you.
“So…” he starts, voice softer now, “I think Haru was warming up to me today. Did you see the way she handed me her Pikachu like it was a peace offering?”
A soft laugh escapes you, and you nod, relaxing further into the cushions as the warmth of the fire wraps around you.
“I did. Pikachu is her most prized possession, you know… she doesn’t hand him over lightly.”
Satoru raises a brow, his grin widening with unmistakable pride as he leans forward to grab a truffle from the platter.
“Ahhh, so I’ve officially been accepted into her inner circle?” He pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly before pointing a playful finger at you. “That’s a big deal, right?”
“Oh, it’s huge,” you tease lightly, swirling your glass as you watch him. “Haru doesn’t trust just anyone with Pikachu. You should consider yourself lucky.”
He chuckles, turning to fully face you now as he shifts his weight, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and propping his chin in his hand.
“I do. But now I’m wondering…” he pauses, his eyes widening dramatically with mock seriousness, “Oh god… have I peaked? What comes after Pikachu? Do I get a spot on her bedtime story roster?”
You laugh softly, shaking your head as you lean forward to grab your own truffle, popping it into your mouth with an exaggerated chew.
Swallowing, you mirror his position, your elbow resting against the back of the couch as your fingers absentmindedly toy with the edge of your glass.
“Nonsense, you’re already on it. Didn’t you notice the way she was sneaking glances at you during her book tonight? She was practically daring you to jump in.”
His brow arches in surprise, and his grin softens as he watches you, lingering as though memorizing the curve of your smile.
“Really?” he murmurs, sighing softly, “Damn… missed my chance. I guess next time, I’m doing all the voices for her.”
You share a quiet laugh, and the sound seems to stretch between you, filling the space with a lightness that feels almost fragile. The firelight dances across his face, painting shadows that soften the sharp angles of his features and highlight the lopsided curve of his smile.
As he shifts closer, the fabric of the couch creaks softly, and his knee brushes against yours again, the subtle contact sending a quiet jolt through you. He settles directly next to you now, close enough that the warmth of his presence mingles with the heat of the fire.
For a beat, he just looks at you, his expression unguarded, the teasing edge in his smile replaced by something deeper. The crackle of the fire fills the quiet space between you, and his voice dips lower, softer.
“You know… I think the real challenge isn’t winning over Haru though. It’s keeping up with you.”
You raise an eyebrow, but the weight of his gaze makes your chest tighten, a warmth spreading through you. A shy smile tugs at your lips, and you lower your eyes briefly before meeting his again.
“Oh, stop it…” you murmur, edged with a breathy laugh. “You’re keeping up just fine.”
Tilting his head slightly, he studies you, the firelight casting golden highlights across his face. As his grin softens, the shift in his expression draws you in, your pulse thrumming faintly in your ears.
“I don’t know about that…” he murmurs. “You set the bar pretty high. You’re… really amazing with her, you know that?”
The sincerity in his tone disarms you, stealing the words from your tongue. Glancing down at your glass, your fingers trace the delicate stem in a deliberate motion now.
But the quiet heat of his gaze pulls you back. It always does.
“You make it look so easy,” he continues, quieter now. “The way you handle everything—it’s like… second nature to you.”
You shrug lightly, though the weight of his words stirs something deep within you, curling around the parts of you that often feel worn and stretched too thin.
Exhaling slowly, a faint smile flickers across your lips.
“It’s just… what you do when you’re a parent. You just… figure it out as you go, I guess.”
He watches you for a moment longer, and then his lips curve into a small, lopsided smile.
Lifting his champagne to his lips, he takes a slow sip, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans back slightly.
“Well…” he says, his eyebrows raising as he sets the glass down on the table. “I’m figuring out that bribery works. Waffles for the win, huh? Glad she let me in today. Even if I had to work for it.”
Your laugh comes easily, shaking your head as you set your own glass aside.
“Come on now. It wasn’t just the waffles,” you counter, meeting his gaze fully now. “You’re good with her, Satoru. She sees that. And so do I.”
His grin falters slightly, softening into something quieter, more vulnerable. The playful edge that feels so naturally him gives way to an expression so raw and genuine it almost takes your breath away.
Shifting again, he leans just a little closer, tilting his head as his eyes search yours.
“You… really think so?” he whispers, a quiet thread of uncertainty lacing his tone.
Your chest tightens at the openness in his expression, the way he’s looking at you as though your answer means everything.
Slowly, you reach out, your fingers brushing lightly against his hand as you offer him a small, reassuring smile.
“I know so.”
Your fingers move slowly, languidly against the back of his hand, both deliberate and tender, and he responds with his own subtle movement, interlacing his fingers with yours.
“She doesn’t warm up to people easily, but with you…” you pause, searching his gaze as the firelight casts golden reflections in the depths of his eyes, “I think… she feels safe.”
He exhales softly, his gaze dropping briefly to your joined hands, his thumb brushing against your skin in a slow, thoughtful motion. The quiet crackle of the fire fills the space between you before he finally speaks.
“That’s all I want,” he murmurs, and as he looks back up at you, his expression is raw with sincerity. “For her to feel safe… for both of you to feel safe.”
His words settle over you like a weight, soft but heavy, pulling your thoughts to a place you’ve tried to avoid. The sharp edges of Naoya’s threats resurface—the dangers of the yakuza.
Satoru’s gaze sharpens instantly, as if he can sense the shift, the way your fingers falter against his. His grip tightens slightly, grounding you before the spiral can take hold.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady, pulling your focus back to him. “She’s going to be okay, you know. Haru. She’s got you.” He pauses, his eyes softening as a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “And… she’s got me too.”
The sincerity in his voice pulls at the tight knot in your chest, loosening it just enough to let a quiet breath escape. His hand squeezes yours, gentle but firm, and the steadiness of his presence wraps around you like the fire’s warmth.
“C’mon,” he adds, his tone lightening, playful now, “no worrying tonight, alright? Just… let me take care of you for once. Relax. Let me spoil you.”
The corners of your mouth lift despite yourself, and your gaze shifts toward the bubbling water of the jacuzzi in the corner of the deck, steam curling into the night air like an invitation.
“Well…” your voice lilts teasingly as your eyes flick back to his, “I was eyeing that jacuzzi…”
His grin widens instantly, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his expression.
“Oh, were you now?” he drawls, already standing and tugging you gently to your feet. “Guess I better make good on my promise to spoil you, then.”
Leading you to the edge of the jacuzzi, the bubbling water shimmers under the soft glow of the fairy lights, and the quiet hum of the jets fill the space between you.
But as soon as he releases your hand, his attention shifts to the buttons of his shirt. With deliberate, unhurried movements, he pops the first one open, instantly drawing your gaze like a magnet.
You blink, your breath hitching as his shirt falls open—the fabric slipping off his shoulders, pooling at his feet to reveal the smooth, toned planes of his chest. The firelight catches the lean lines of his frame and the faint gleam of his skin.
Tossing his shirt casually onto a nearby lounge chair, his grin turns devilish as his eyes meet yours.
“What?” he teases, entirely too smug. “Figured I’d lead by example.”
For a moment, he stands there, utterly composed, as though he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you. Which, of course, he does. The subtle curve of his lips, the relaxed angle of his stance—everything about him radiates confidence.
You huff softly, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you, and as your gaze flickers to the water, you shuffle slightly—nerves fluttering in your stomach.
Bathing suits hadn’t even crossed your mind tonight, let alone his, and now… now you’re standing there, knowing what comes next but feeling completely unprepared for it.
The thought of stripping down in front of him? Oh god… it makes your stomach flutter with anticipation.
“I-I…” you stammer, biting your lip as your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. “Um… I wasn’t exactly prepared for this…”
His grin softens, though his playful tone remains.
“What, nervous? It’s just me.” He gestures toward the jacuzzi with a slight tilt of his head. “C’mon, your turn. Unless you’re planning on soaking fully clothed?”
Your lips part to protest, but the words catch in your throat. The warmth creeping down your neck has your pulse thrumming, and you quickly avert your gaze.
“Turn around…” you mutter finally, barely meeting his eyes.
He chuckles, low and warm
“Really? After everything?”
But as you give him a pointed look, his amusement softens into something gentler.
“Alright, alright...” he turns with a mock sigh, hands raised in exaggerated surrender. “I’ll behave.”
True to his word, he faces the firepit, though you catch the playful tilt of his head as he calls over his shoulder, “Just don’t take too long. I’ll be claiming the best spot for myself if you do.”
Rolling your eyes, the faintest laugh escapes your lips despite your nerves. But as soon as you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle, your heart leaps, and you quickly turn your focus to your own clothes.
Your shirt comes off first, followed by the rest, peeling them off piece by piece. But for a moment, your fingers linger at the clasp of your bra, and your gaze flickers to his back, broad and steady in the firelight.
Oh god… should you?
Before sitting on the thought for too long, on a whim, you unhook it—slipping it off and setting it down with the rest of your clothes. The cool air kisses your bare skin, and you cross your arms instinctively over your chest, feeling exposed yet exhilarated.
Left only in your panties, you step toward the edge of the jacuzzi, the steam curling against your skin like a whispered invitation.
As you dip a tentative foot in the water, behind you, Satoru shifts slightly. He’s stripped down to his boxers—an easy confidence radiating even as he waits.
“You okay back there?” he calls, light and teasing. “Not chickening out on me, are you?”
“I-I’m fine,” you reply quickly, the quiver in your voice betraying you. “Just… wait.”
Slowly, you sink into the bubbling water, the warmth melting away your nerves as the jets hum softly against your skin. The water laps at your shoulders as you settle into a corner, your gaze flickering to him nervously.
“Okay… you can look now.”
Satoru turns, his gaze sweeping over you briefly, a triumphant grin curling upon his lips before he steps into the jacuzzi. His broad frame settles into the water with a quiet sigh, and the firelight dances along the droplets clinging to his skin.
Sliding into the spot beside you, he stretches his long arms along the edges of the tub while he sinks back, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he stares at you, one that instantly puts you on guard.
“What…?” you glance at him sideways, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, nothing,” he drawls, his smirk widening into a full grin. “Just wondering how I got so lucky to share a jacuzzi with such esteemed company.”
Rolling your eyes, you exhale with amusement.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter.
“Mm, so I’ve been told,” he quips.
As he leans his head back against the edge of the jacuzzi, the firelight casts golden highlights across the sharp angles of his face. Tilting his head slightly, he lets out a theatrical sigh.
“Well, well… look at you, finally relaxing. Didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”
Your smile softens as you close your eyes briefly, letting the warmth of the water and his teasing words melt away all the lingering tension in your chest.
“Well, the hot tub helps,” you admit, glancing at him again. “Gotta say, this was a good idea.”
The water ripples softly between you as he shifts, leaning closer—his arm sliding along the edge behind you. The proximity makes your pulse stir faintly, though you try not to let it show.
“I’ll take partial credit for that,” his grin widens, triumphant and full of mischief. “After all, this was my idea.”
“Your idea to spoil me, you mean,” you counter, raising an eyebrow. “My idea for the hot tub.”
Satoru hums thoughtfully, tilting his head toward you, feigning consideration.
“Technically,” he begins, holding up a finger, “Who was it that brought you out here, hmm? The petals? The champagne? The fire? You wouldn’t even be in this hot tub if it weren’t for my setup. So, really, it’s all connected to me.”
You scoff, though the laughter bubbling up in your throat betrays you.
“Oh, is that how it works now? You’re just taking full credit for everything?”
“Not taking full credit,” he corrects. “Just… connecting the dots. It’s a chain of events, sweetheart. Genius-level planning, if I do say so myself.”
Shaking your head, you laugh as the water ripples softly around you.
“Careful, Satoru. Your ego’s showing.”
“My ego? Sweetheart, this isn’t ego—it’s confidence.”
“Oh, my god,” you laugh, sending a playful splash of water his way. “You’re absolutely impossible.”
He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest in mock outrage.
“Did you just assault me? In my own jacuzzi? The audacity.”
“Your jacuzzi?” you tease, arching a brow. “Pretty sure it’s our jacuzzi now, buddy.”
“Oho, is that right?” he murmurs, grin widening into something sly. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the one trespassing.”
Before you can retort, his hand dips into the water, sending a small wave your way in retaliation. The warm splash catches you off guard, and you let out a startled laugh, lifting your arms defensively to shield yourself, but careful not to expose your chest.
“Satoru!” you protest, but he’s already closing the distance between you, the playful challenge in his eyes unmistakable.
“You started it,” he teases.
Moving closer with a daring glint, his knee brushes against yours beneath the water. The contact is subtle, but it sends a ripple of warmth through you.
“Satoru…” you warn again, lacking any real bite.
Pressing closer, his arm comes to rest along the edge of the tub behind you, caging you in with a mix of ease and intention. The bubbling water hums softly against your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from him now.
Your pulse quickens and you press your back slightly against the edge. His proximity suddenly becomes overwhelming as he brings his face mere inches from your own.
“Hmm?” his head tilts slightly and the damp strands of his hair fall just over his brow.
Your lips part as his gaze drops briefly—tracing the soft flush in your cheeks and lingering on the delicate curve of your lips—before returning to your eyes.
Suddenly, you feel his hand move beneath the water, brushing lightly against your thigh in a way that feels far too casual to be accidental.
“Something wrong princess?” he murmurs, low, velvety smooth.
Your breath hitches, your throat tightening under the weight of his gaze. The bubbling water ripples softly as you shift, your cheeks burning.
“N-no… nothing’s wrong…”
For a beat, he doesn’t move—his face close enough that you can feel the faint warmth of his breath mingling with the rising steam. His smirk softens slightly, and his eyes darken with something deeper—the tension in the air almost tangible.
Then, as his gaze dips once more, for a moment, you swear he’s about to close the distance entirely—to capture your lips in a kiss that would leave you utterly breathless. But just as quickly, he seems to catch himself.
Pulling back ever so slightly, his jaw clenches faintly and his eyes flicker with restraint.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he sighs, the teasing lilt returning to his tone as he settles into his seat beside you. “I was just enjoying the view.”
Swallowing hard, the tension still hums through your veins as you glance away briefly, focusing on the way the steam curls into the cool night air.
Breaking the silence, his voice is softer this time as he murmurs,
“Speaking of amazing views… look at that.”
Tilting his chin up at the sky, you follow his gaze, your eyes drawn to the endless expanse of stars glittering against the inky blackness. Lifting his hand, water drips from his fingers as he gestures upward.
“See that there?” he murmurs. “That’s Orion. You can tell by the three stars in the middle—Orion’s Belt.”
Your eyes flicker to him, and a boyish smile spreads across his lips as he continues.
“Orion was this great hunter in Greek mythology. A giant, actually. Depending on the version you hear, he was either killed by a jealous goddess or a scorpion—hence why Scorpius, the constellation, is always opposite him in the sky.”
Leaning forward slightly, you trace the constellation with your gaze.
“I… never knew that,” you admit softly.
Shifting again, he leans closer to you. His hand lifts up again—this time pointing to a different part of the sky.
“And there… that’s Cassiopeia. It’s shaped like a ‘W.’ She was a queen, but apparently, she bragged a little too much about how beautiful she and her daughter were. The gods didn’t like that, so they stuck her up there—forced to sit upside-down half the time as punishment.”
You can’t help but laugh quietly at the irony.
“A queen with a bit of an ego, huh? Sounds like someone I know.”
His eyes flick back to yours, his grin widening.
“Hey, if the gods want to immortalize me for my confidence, I wouldn’t say no. But I’d at least negotiate for better seating arrangements.”
Shaking your head, you smile.
“Of course, you would.”
A low chuckle slips through his lips, and as his gaze lingers up again, you catch sight of the shimmer of stars reflecting in his eyes.
“But… you’ve got to admit, she’s got a better view than most.”
His expression softens as he looks back at you—fingers brushing absently along the edge of the hot tub.
“It’s kind of funny, though. These stories… they’ve been passed down for centuries, and they’re still here. Still lighting up the sky.”
The wistfulness in his voice catches your attention as you hold his gaze—a small smile tugging at your lips.
“You really know a lot about this. I didn’t know you were into constellations.”
He smirks faintly, his voice taking on a playful air again.
“What, you think I’m just a pretty face?”
Rolling your eyes, you laugh softly, but the quiet vulnerability lingering in his expression doesn’t escape you.
“Well now… I didn’t say that.”
Leaning back slightly, the bubbling water hums softly against your skin as he looks up at the stars again—his expression becoming retrospective.
“Truth is…” he starts, voice dipping lower, “I used to sneak out on my balcony when I was a kid. We had this old telescope, probably the only thoughtful gift my dad ever gave me, and I’d spend hours just… staring at the stars. Learning their names, their stories.”
Tilting your head slightly, the quiet shift in his tone sparks your curiosity.
“Why the stars?” you ask softly.
He exhales a quiet laugh, though it’s laced with the weight of something long buried—devoid of any true humor.
“Because… they didn’t expect anything from me,” he admits, gaze fixed on the constellations above. “Looking at the stars…. made everything feel smaller. They didn’t care about who I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to accomplish. Up there… it was just space. Quiet. Endless.”
“So… the reminder of something bigger was an escape for you?”
Glancing at you, a small, almost sheepish smile tugs at his lips.
“Maybe. I guess I’ve always been drawn to the idea of infinity… something that can’t be controlled or contained.”
As his words linger, you can’t help but think of how beautifully they echo the person he is now—brilliant, unpredictable, and endlessly complex.
“Well… I never would’ve guessed,” you murmur, your gaze flickering upward to the stars he’d named for you. “But… it also makes sense. You’re always reaching for something bigger, aren’t you?”
His smile softens, a flicker of vulnerability slipping through as he admits,
“Yeah… guess I can’t help myself.”
Nodding quietly, the bubbling water hums between you as a comfortable silence stretches—charged with something unspoken.
You glance at him, and his profile is softened by the fairy lights—the damp strands of his hair curling against his skin, wet droplets sliding along the line of his jaw.
“Do you still?” the question slips out before you can stop yourself. “Look at the stars, I mean.”
Scratching the back of his head, a wry smile tugs at his lips.
“Mmm… not as often as I used to. Life gets in the way, you know?”
Another quiet pause lingers between you, and your heart aches at the tenderness in his expression—the bittersweet look in his eyes.
For all his teasing confidence and easy smiles, there’s something almost fragile in the way he speaks about this, as if the memory of that boy stargazing on a balcony still lingers—a deeper part within him.
It’s almost unbearable, the way he seems both so close and so far away in this moment, and all you can think about is the need to close that distance. The desire to touch him, to draw him back into the present—it becomes impossible to ignore.
Slowly, your hand moves, almost on its own, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm beneath the water. He looks at you, a flicker of surprise at first, but it softens, quickly giving way to warmth.
“You should,” you whisper. “If it makes you feel that way… then you should make time for it.”
Your fingers trail absently against his arm, the gentle movement sending ripples through the water, and your gaze drops to the curve of his lips before meeting his eyes again.
“Yeah, well…” his voice drops as he shifts closer to you in the water, “now I’ve got something even better to escape to.”
Moving beneath the water, his hand brushes lightly against your thigh—a touch that pulls at something deep within you—soft, deliberate, yet somehow still electric.
“And… it’s not up there.”
As his hand shifts, trailing lightly up your hip, your heart races. His touch urges you to close the distance—pulling you steadily like gravity itself.
Without thinking, your fingers glide up his arm, lifting to his cheek. You brush away a stray droplet of water from his jaw, and his eyes flutter shut briefly at the touch—a soft exhale escaping his lips.
Your breath hitches, and as his eyes slowly open again, they’re filled with something raw and unguarded—a depth that steals your breath away.
Lifting his own hand, it comes up to cover yours, holding it there for a moment as he leans into your touch. And then, slowly, he turns his head, pressing a soft kiss to your palm—so gentle, so reverent, it leaves your chest aching, aching for more.
Your fingers slide further, lacing between the damp locks of his silky hair, and he shifts, leaning in just slightly until his lips ghost yours.
The warmth of his breath mingling with yours is enough to unravel you, and slowly, tentatively, you brush your lips against his—a featherlight touch that sends a spark of pleasure down your spine.
Instinctively, he leans in, deepening the kiss, and his hand slides to the small of your back—steadying you as the water begins to ripple softly around you.
But it’s the faint rasp of his breath that draws you in further. Your own hands move, sliding from his hair to his shoulders, your fingertips tracing the contours of his damp skin.
Suddenly, his lips part slightly—inviting you to explore more.
And the moment his tongue brushes softly against your bottom lip, it flares into something else—the kiss shifts, no longer soft and tentative, but filled with a hunger that neither of you can seem to deny.
Your hands find their way to his chest, and you feel his heartbeat against your palm, strong and steady as he hums in your mouth, breathy moans through each movement of his lips.
Without thinking, you shift in the water. The bubbling warmth ripples against your skin as you move closer—settling your legs on both sides of him, straddling his lap as you press your chest against his.
Everything stills.
His breath stutters, his lips faltering against yours for the briefest second. His eyes flicker open to meet yours, and you see the exact moment it clicks—the moment he feels your bare chest. Freezing slightly, his hands grip your waist with just enough pressure to ground himself.
“You’re not…” he starts, voice hoarse as his gaze dips, taking in the bare skin of your shoulders, the way the water laps teasingly against the curve of your chest.
His throat bobs, swallowing hard, and when his eyes snap back to yours, they’re darkened with desire—flickering with a restraint that’s fraying at the edges.
“Fucking hell…” he mutters under his breath, exhaling heavily as his head tilts back slightly. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
The rough, almost reverent sound of his admission sends a shiver racing through you, emboldening you, and leaning forward, your lips graze the exposed line of his neck.
Groaning softly at the contact, his hands tighten their grip on your hips as you trail tender, deliberate kisses along his skin. Your chest presses closer to him, molding against his as one of your hands slides up to cup his jaw, keeping his head tilted back for your exploration.
“S-shit,” he breathes unsteadily—a quiet, guttural moan escaping him as you brush the base of his throat.
A jolt of heat rushes through you as his hands shift lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass—kneading the flesh as if he can’t help himself.
Instinctively, you shift in his lap, but the moment you feel the firm, unmistakable hardness of his cock pressing against you, a moan slips past your lips—your kisses faltering against his skin.
Your thighs immediately tighten around him, and something snaps in him. A low, desperate groan tears from his throat, and his hands slide back up to your waist—guiding you against him with an increasing boldness.
“God, you’re driving me fucking crazy,” he rasps, thick with desire. “Do you even realize what you do to me? How badly I want you?”
Pulling back to meet his eyes, your breath hitches at the unfiltered need blazing in his gaze.
“Maybe…” your fingers tangle in his damp hair, pulling him closer until your lips hover just above his. “…but why don’t you tell me Satoru?”
His breath stutters, the tension between you crackling like electricity.
“Oh, sweetheart… you’re dangerous,” he mutters, low and wrecked, brushing against your lips with every breath. “Dangerous, and so fucking tempting…”
His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and consuming, his restraint dissolving as his tongue slides against yours with a fervent desperation. You whimper softly into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his hair as your hips continue to shift instinctively against his cock.
Every movement is amplified by the bubbling water, ripping against your skin as his lips claim yours over and over again, but it’s his hands—wandering and deliberate—that make your cunt quiver.
They’re everywhere—sliding up your back, tracing your waist and gliding up to your chest. His palms cup the soft curve of your breast, and when his thumbs roll over the hardened peaks of your nipples, a soft, muffled cry spills from your lips.
Oh, your sound undoes him.
His hips buck up reflexively, grinding his rigid length against your core with a desperation that suddenly sends the water churning around you.
“Fuck… shit—I’m so fucking hard for you,” he groans against your lips, trembling with want. “Baby, I can’t—can’t fucking get enough of you.”
Biting your lip, your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, gasping against his lips while his cock rolls underneath you.
“Been wanting you for so fucking long…” he grunts, dropping his head to drag his lips down your neck.
“Satoru…” you breathe, trembling against him as his tongue flicks against your skin, sucking the sensitive hollow above your collarbone.
“You don’t even fucking know,” he mutters, gripping you with a bruising intensity. “I stood outside our bathroom door…” he rasps, punctuated with another thrust. “…listening to the water, imagining you in there, naked and soaked. Fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
His lips trail up, grazing your ear as his hands drop lower, gripping the curve of your ass and pressing you flush against his throbbing cock.
“Had to touch myself,” he groans, “my hand wrapped around my cock… thinking about pressing you against that tile. F-Fuck… about how fucking tight you’d feel around me.”
A strangled whimper slips from your lips, the filthy image his words paint setting your body on fire.
“God, baby…” he rasps, his lips ghosting along your jawline as his hands guide your hips in perfect rhythm against his. “I came so fucking hard just thinking about you, sweetheart. Fucking my own hand. Thinking about being inside you… stretching your perfect little pussy, making you mine.”
But then something shifts.
His breath stutters against your skin, and suddenly his hands still on your hips. His body is trembling, his head dropping to your shoulder as a low, guttural sound escapes him—half frustration, half restraint.
“Shit…” he mutters, his voice breaking as he shifts beneath you.
Before you can process, his hands grip your waist firmly, guiding you as he adjusts your position, spinning you gently until your back presses against the curved edge of the hot tub.
He cages you there, his arms braced on either side of you, his body hovering so close that the heat radiates between you. For a moment, his head drops, his forehead pressing against yours as he exhales shakily, the tension in his body almost unbearable.
“I can’t…” he starts, voice strained and wrecked. “I—fuck—I’m about to lose it, baby.”
He groans, low and rough, pulling back slightly as his hands slide to your waist—a grip firm but steadying.
“You said…” he mutters, voice softening, “…you said you wanted to take things slow. And it’s been one day, sweetheart. One fucking day, and I’m already losing my goddamn mind.”
His words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable, as his chest heaves with every labored breath. His eyes close briefly, as if trying to gather the strength to pull himself back from the edge.
“I want you so fucking bad,” he admits, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t even know. But… I don’t… I don’t want to screw this up.”
“Hey…” you whisper, cupping his cheeks, your thumbs brushing gently against the rough edge of his jawline. “We’re figuring this out together.”
Leaning into your touch, his eyes slowly open as his breath fans against your face—letting the tension ebb just slightly.
“You’ve got to help me out here,” he murmurs, voice soft but laced with a thread of desperation. “What does ‘taking it slow’ even mean? Because right now… all I can think about is you, and it’s killing me, sweetheart.”
You hesitate for a moment, his question hanging in the air, and the way his eyes search yours—pleading, vulnerable—makes your chest tighten.
“Taking it slow… doesn’t mean I don’t want you, Satoru. I do. So much that it scares me a little...”
His eyes blink open wider, his expression softening as he absorbs your words.
“Scared?” he echoes. “Sweetheart… I’m fucking terrified. I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you. And that terrifies me because honestly, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
His words settle between you like a confession, raw and unguarded, and for a moment, you’re both quiet—the bubbling water lapping gently against your skin as you process the weight of his admission.
With a quiet breath, your fingers brush along his forearm, sliding up to rest lightly against his chest.
“I… don’t want to lose you either,” your voice trembles slightly as you peel back a layer of your own walls. “Satoru… you’re important to me. And maybe that’s why I want this to be different.”
His brows draw together slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as he tilts his head in question.
“Different… how?”
Biting your lip, your gaze drops momentarily to the rippling water as you gather the courage—trying to find the words.
"Different because… it feels like, for once, I’m not rushing into something just to fill a void. I want to savor this… savor you. I’ve never had the chance to do that before."
His gaze softens further, and the vibrant blue of his eyes darkens under the pale glow of moonlight. You allow the steady warmth of his thumbs brushing absentminded circles against your waist, to keep you grounded—letting the words spill out, your own quiet confession.
"I guess… for once… I… want to enjoy every moment of falling for someone instead of wondering when it’s going to fall apart.”
Satoru pulls you closer, his eyes holding your gaze with a quiet tenderness. Then, after a beat, his lips quirk into a soft, lopsided grin, one that makes something flutter in your chest.
“Well shit,” he exhales, a playful edge creeping into his voice. “I think you like me.”
The unexpected shift in tone catches you off guard, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, light and genuine, shaking your head at his ridiculousness.
“Oh, you think?” you tease, rolling your eyes at him.
“I meeean…” he drawls, his teasing grin widening. “All this talk about savoring me? Falling for me? Sounds like you’re pretty smitten, sweetheart.”
Your laugh turns into a wry smile as you shake your head, nudging him lightly.
“Okay, fine. I like you. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he replies smoothly, his grin turning downright triumphant.
As his face softens slightly, he leans forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he murmurs, “You know… I’ve never really had that either.”
“Yeah?” you ask gently, your fingers moving without thought, brushing against the damp strands of his hair.
He nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“I’ve always moved fast, maybe because I didn’t want to feel… too much,” he admits, his tone quieter now.
Tilting your head, your fingers brush along the sharp line of his jaw, encouraging him to go on.
“What’s different now?” you ask softly, the question slipping out before you can stop it.
“With you…” his hand comes up to cup your cheek, tracing a slow, deliberate line. “It’s like… I want to feel everything. Every single moment.”
Your breath hitches at his words, and he leans in closer, lips hovering just above yours. The heat radiating off him mingles with the steam curling around you.
“Hmmm,” you murmur, grinning as you playfully nudge your nose against his. “Well… I think you like me too, Satoru Gojo.”
His brows shoot up in mock indignation, and he huffs out a laugh, his hands tightening slightly on your waist.
“Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?”
Before you can respond, his mouth crashes against yours, cutting off your laugh with a kiss so consuming it makes your head spin. Pulling you flush against him, his lips move in a fervent desperation—his teeth capturing your bottom lip, his tongue stroking against yours in a heated dance.
You gasp softly in his mouth as your hands wrap around him, the bubbling water lapping against you as his hands explore once again—sliding to your breasts, twirling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
A soft whimper escapes you, and he hums in your mouth—pleased and unrestrained—but just as you feel yourself melting completely into him, surrendering to the pull of his touch and the weight of his kiss, he pulls back.
His gaze is heavy-lidded and dark, his pupils blown wide with desire. Yet there’s something maddeningly smug about the way he’s looking at you, his lips curling into a slow, insufferably cocky grin.
“Hmm…” he hums thoughtfully, brushing his thumb against your swollen bottom lip, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I quite enjoy getting you worked up.”
Your cheeks burn as your eyes narrow, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to fire back. He takes full advantage, leaning in close, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers,
“If you want to take it slow, sweetheart, that’s fine. But I’m turning it into my own personal game.”
You blink, his words swirling in your mind as the heat of his lips shifts to the curve of your neck—pressing open-mouthed kisses against your damp skin. Tipping your head back involuntarily, his lips blaze a trail along your collarbone.
“A game?” you manage, breathlessly.
“Mhmm,” his lips ghost along the line of your jaw. “And I’ll have you begging for me by the end of it. Count on it.”
His voice is dark—rich with confidence and something wickedly seductive, and the heat of his promise sends a jolt of need shooting through you. When he finally pulls back, his insufferably cocky grin is enough to make you want to throttle him—and kiss him senseless all over again.
It’s infuriating. It’s intoxicating. It’s Satoru.
With an exaggerated sigh, he settles beside you in the hot tub, the bubbling water rippling against his toned chest as he leans against the curved edge. He’s infuriatingly casual, the image of smug satisfaction as he reaches for his champagne flute resting on the side of the tub.
Taking a slow, deliberate sip, he casts you a sideways glance, his grin widening when he catches the heat in your gaze still lingering.
“What?” he asks innocently. “You look like you’ve got something to say, sweetheart.”
With a pointed look, you roll your eyes—settling beside him.
“Oh, nothing,” you exhale with a smirk, mirroring his casual tone as you reach for your own glass. “I’m just thinking about how funny it’ll be when this little ‘game’ of yours backfires Mr. Gojo.”
His grin widens in amusement as he leans back further against the jets—an arm draping along the edge of the tub behind you.
“We’ll see about that,” he murmurs, lifting a brow and clinking his glass against yours.
But then, his gaze shifts, flicking just past you toward the estate’s edge.
At first, his expression doesn’t change, his teasing grin frozen in place—but as his eyes narrow slightly, for a fleeting moment, his jaw tightens.
“Satoru?” you ask, tilting your head as you take another sip of champagne. “You okay?”
He blinks, his gaze snapping back to you, and his easy smile returns almost instantly.
“Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”
“You… zoned out,” your brow furrows slightly as you study him. “Something on your mind?”
“Oh… just strategizing my next move in our little game,” he says smoothly, his grin turning playful again, though his eyes flick briefly toward the edge of the estate once more. “Gotta keep you on your toes, sweetheart.”
Narrowing your eyes slightly, you sense there’s something he isn’t saying, but before you can press further, he shifts closer, his arm brushing yours as he leans in conspiratorially.
“Speaking of toes,” he murmurs, low and teasing, “I think we’ve spent enough time in here. Don’t want you turning into a prune on me.”
For a moment, you pause—considering whether you should push him further. But instead, you let out a soft sigh.
“Aww, man…” you pout playfully. “I was really enjoying this hot tub, too.”
Satoru’s smile softens, but there's a flicker of something protective in his eyes. He shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours as he gently leans in.
“Well… we can come back again. It is our hot tub, after all. Remember?”
Raising an eyebrow, a half-smile tugs at your lips. Despite the shift in the air, you nod, choosing not to press him.
“Right...” you mutter lightly, “our hot tub.”
Satoru stands, offering his hand to help you out of the water. Pulling you up gently, the cool night air kisses your skin as you step out—the warmth of the hot tub already fading.
He’s quick to wrap a towel over you—his hands gliding across your skin as he subtly dries you off. But the way his gaze flickers towards the trees again, leaves you slightly unsettled. Though, a moment later his smile returns—almost like he’s trying to shake something off.
“Let’s get inside,” he murmurs, carrying an edge that wasn't there before. “It’s getting late.”
As you follow him, you glance back briefly toward the estate’s edge, where the shadows of the trees sway gently in the wind.
But… whatever had drawn Satoru’s attention earlier remains a mystery, tucked away in the dark beyond the gates.
A mystery that perhaps… you’d rather not know the answer to.
ꨄ
The heavy thud of binoculars clatters against the wooden table—Toji slamming them down with a careless flick of his wrist. Catching a dim light, the lenses slide to a stop, and Toji pulls out a chair—leaning back while plopping his feet up.
"Almost blew my cover," he mutters, exhaling in annoyance. "Satoru's more perceptive than I gave him credit for."
Naoya’s eyes flicker toward the binoculars before his gaze settles back on Toji. His fingers drum impatiently on the table—a rhythm quick and sharp.
“What do you mean? He didn’t see you, did he?"
Toji waves a hand dismissively—unfazed, but calculating.
“Nah… didn’t actually spot me. But he kept looking in my direction. I could tell. It’s like he felt me there. That gut feeling, you know?”
“Of course,” Mei-Mei chimes in, smooth and tinged with affection.
Leaning back in her chair, a slow, fond smile curls upon her lips. She twirls her drink languidly in her glass—crossing one leg over the other.
“That’s Satoru for you, isn’t it? Always a step ahead of everyone. It’s honestly incredible how sharp he is.”
Sighing dramatically, she sets her glass down on the table with a soft, deliberate clink. Then, leaning forward, she props her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand.
"He always did have that uncanny ability,” she drawls, dripping with admiration. “It’s just another reason why he’s so... impressive."
Naoya rolls his eyes, his frustration building. His fingers tap a rapid rhythm on the table, betraying his growing impatience.
"Jesus, not this again,” he mutters. “Focus, Mei-Mei. We're here to deal with this situation, not to fawn over Gojo."
Mei-Mei flicks a quick glance toward Naoya, her smile widening just slightly. She runs a finger lazily along the rim of her glass.
“Oh, I am focused, darling,” she purrs, smooth and teasing. “Perhaps this means it’s time to speed things up.”
Shifting to Toji, her voice becomes more calculated—a quiet edge of authority seeping in.
“We’ve played around long enough. Naoya’s plan needs to be put in motion soon. Before Satoru gets… too comfortable.”
Toji chuckles darkly, low and mocking—a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Yeah… well… about that…” he pauses for a moment, glancing towards Naoya. "You sure your intel’s still solid ‘cuz?”
Naoya’s eyes narrow just slightly—his fingers stopping mid-tap on the table. There’s a shift in his posture, a subtle tightening around his jaw.
“What do you mean?”
Toji shrugs nonchalantly, the grin on his face widening.
“After what I saw tonight... I’m wondering if things are a bit more complicated than we thought."
Naoya’s brow furrows, confusion flickering for a moment, before irritation flares up again. He leans forward, his eyes locked onto Toji as his fingers tighten into a fist.
"What the hell are you talking about? What did you see?"
Toji’s smirk stretches—predatory and full of amusement.
“Saw the whole damn thing. They’re not just playing house. I watched them in the hot tub, and I’ll tell ya, that make-out session wasn’t for the cameras. Hell, they almost fucked right there, in front of me. I practically got a show.”
The room falls into an eerie silence. Mei Mei’s expression shifts, her interest piqued, though she masks it with a slight tilt of her head. Naoya’s face twists in frustration, his breathing shallow—the air around him thickening.
"No… no, that can’t be,” Naoya grits, the words slipping from clenched teeth. Leaning forward, his voice trembles with the weight of his disbelief. “She’s just a pawn—he’s using her. There’s no way he’d get attached to her."
Mei-Mei scoffs softly, laced with both frustration and longing. She sets her glass down delicately on the table—her eyes glinting an unsettling mixture of envy and disdain.
"Tch… I never understood why Satoru chose someone like her. He deserves someone who can match him, not... her."
Naoya’s anger erupts, boiling over into a loud, harsh growl. His eyes burn with fury as he slams his fist onto the table again, causing the wood to shudder under the force. His voice cracks with intensity, raw and full of rage.
“This wasn’t part of the plan!” he spits. “I’m not letting that bastard keep her!” His eyes flash with dark intent as he leans forward, hands clutching the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. “He won’t have control over her! I won’t let him.”
Mei-Mei raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling into a wider, almost cruel smirk as she watches Naoya’s outburst. The tension in her body relaxes, but only slightly, as she takes a slow, deliberate sip from her glass.
"Oh… you poor thing," she coos, dripping with sarcasm, "how cute. It looks like you really did lose your toy, didn’t you?”
Naoya’s glare sharpens, his face darkening with even more rage, but before he can snap back at her, Toji clears his throat—cutting through the tension like a knife.
“Alright, alright. Relax. Both of you.”
Leaning back in his chair, the smooth wood creaks beneath him as he stretches his legs out lazily, exhaling slowly through his nose. His expression shifts to one of cold calculation, his eyes locking onto Naoya with an almost imperceptible smirk.
“This just changes the plan, that’s all. No need to get all bent out of shape over it.”
Naoya’s eyes narrow further, the lines around his mouth deepening into a hard, angry frown.
“What do you mean, ‘changes the plan’?” he spits through clenched teeth.
Toji’s grin turns sharp—his tone dropping to something more dangerous
“Common now, ‘cuz… is your toy making you lose your edge?” he pauses, letting his taunt hang before continuing. “Think about it. To bring Satoru Gojo down, we’ve gotta go after what’s most important to him, right?”
The silence is thick—Naoya’s brow furrowing as the meaning of the statement slowly sinks in. His breath hitches slightly, his mind racing as the pieces fall into place.
“Before, we thought it was his precious reputation,” Toji continues, “—his image as the untouchable, perfect heir. But now…” he trails off, a malicious gleam in his eyes. “Now we’ve got a much bigger target.”
Naoya’s eyes narrow even further, a flicker of realization creeping into his expression as the truth starts to dawn on him. His hand moves to rub the back of his neck, the tension in his body building as he mutters under his breath,
“You’re saying… her?”
Toji’s smirk deepens, turning positively devilish as he leans forward.
“Bingo,” he mutters, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Satoru’s attached to her, whether he wants to admit it or not. That’s the leverage we’ve been missing. Forget the public image—if we take y/n out of the equation, he’ll break. His whole world will collapse."
A tense silence falls over the room, everyone holding their breath as Toji’s words sink in. Then, after a moment, Mei-Mei hums softly—sweet but carrying an edge of approval.
“Well, well… not bad, Toji. I suppose jail didn’t take the fight out of you after all.”
Toji’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, the smirk on his lips fades, replaced by a cold, hard edge in his eyes.
“Jail didn’t make me soft. It just made me more… determined,” he growls—dripping with resentment. “The Gojo family—they think they can lock me up and forget about me? Tch… I’ve got a score to settle, and this... this is just the beginning.”
Naoya’s eyes flash with a bitter, twisted smirk—his frustration mixing with simmering excitement as he shifts forward in his seat.
“Great. We go after her. If Satoru thinks he’s got control over her, he’s in for a rude awakening.” His voice drops to a low growl as he mutters, “If I can’t have her… then no one can.”
Mei-Mei smiles serenely—cool and calculating.
“And after we destroy everything he cares about,” she murmurs, “Satoru will have no choice but to fall into my hands."
Toji leans back in his chair, folding his arms with grim satisfaction. His eyes flick between the two, the corners of his mouth curling into a slight smirk—one that speaks of cold, calculated victory.
“That’s right. Once she’s gone, Satoru’s nothing. And when he’s broken, we’ll take him down, piece by piece.”
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a/n. oh wowee, hi guys. i wanna thank you all so much for your support with this fic. every kind comment really puts a smile on my face :') i know you all waited a bit longer than usual with this chapter, but thanks for your patience! life is kicking my ass lately, but i'm almost done with this school semester 😭 there's a lot going on in this chapter. the yakuza coming into play—satoru trying to connect more deliberately with haru—suguru joining the battle—and satoru and y/n exploring their new relationship together! a few of my favorite things to write this chapter: satoru and suguru interacting together. i just love their friendship in the canon story, so i always have fun writing it (without suguru going genocide crazy, lol). another scene that was my fav, was in the hot tub, where satoru is talking about the constellations 💕 and when satoru realized y/n didn't have her bra on 🤭 hehe. the scene where y/n is sitting in the study with both satoru and suguru... that scene was really tough to write... very emotional 🥺 if anyone has ever been in a position like y/n, don't hesitate to seek help. emotional manipulation and physical intimation is indeed a form of domestic abuse. i also had a lot of fun writing the last scene, with toji, naoya and mei-mei. it was a nice change up! fyi, ya'll will be getting a satoru pov chapter in the future (soon-ish?) huge thank you as always to my friend @strychnynegirl for helping me immensely with this chapter 🥰 she is literally incredible. anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and i hope you have an amazing thanksgiving 🫶🏻 much love! -aly💕 → you are currently all caught upꨄ
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ⅶ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝑔𝑜 ⁾
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, sloppy writing, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, wendigo/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, gang bang, dubcon, fear, kidnapping, reader wears glasses, porn no plot. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : ya'll i hate this so much, but i wanted to post something today-- sorry if it's all over the place!
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: while babysitting for your aunt, you find yourself stranded in the living room.
꒰male!wendigo ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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" Don't worry Aunt J, I got this. "
𝒯he woman gazes at you with a concerned expression, her eyes filled with worry. However, she manages to muster a nod and gently plants a tender kiss on your cheek. "Make sure to lock the doors before you go upstairs. The house only locks my room and the kids’. You must be upstairs before 9:30, as that's when the doors lock. If you're not there by then, you'll be locked out until morning, but even so, if you've locked the front and back doors, you'll be fine. Don't. Forget."
You give her a firm nod, "I won't, I promise."
Recent sightings of a peculiar creature moving around the neighborhood have stirred up fear among the locals, particularly your Aunt whose anxious for the safety of her kids. She sighs and lovingly kisses your forehead, "Alright, enjoy yourself."
As you wave goodbye and lock the back door behind her, you pivot to find your younger cousin watching you with excitement, struggling to manage the baby boy in her arms. You laugh and relieve her of the baby. "How about we bake some brownies together?"
She lets out a joyful cheer, giggling as she dashes towards the kitchen, her excitement palpable. You carefully place the baby in his high chair, turning him to face the bustling kitchen. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes in the scene, a big grin spreading across his little face.
You enthusiastically bring your hands together, a wide grin spreading across your face. " Shall we? "
—
As you cradle the baby boy in your arms, a sense of warmth and tenderness envelops you and you can't help but pout softly, and coo at him. His little tiny fingers have loosened their grip on the milk bottle, causing it to slip from his hands and land softly on your lap. His eyes are closed, and you can't help but admire the long, black lashes that frame his lids. With a gentle touch, you press a loving kiss to your cousin's forehead, careful not to disturb his sleep.
You rise from the comfortable couch, making sure to move with utmost care so as not to awaken the sleeping child. A soft giggle escapes your lips as you hear a shuddering sigh emanate from him. It's moments like these that remind you of the innocence and beauty of childhood, it's something you miss.
Navigating your way around the couch, you begin your ascent up the stairs towards your Aunt's room. The woman had been nervous to leave them with your grandmother, though loving and caring, she's started to show signs of hip pains and occasional forgetfulness. Hence, your Aunt relies on you to watch over the little ones during her night shift at work.
Using your foot, you nudged the door open and switched off the lamp that cast a faint glow in the room. Gently placing the boy on the bed, you made sure his tummy was flat against the soft mattress before pulling the blanket over him and only up to his waist. You brush his hair away from his face before quietly exiting the room, the soft click of the door closing making you heave a sigh.
Turning around, you take a couple of steps forward and enter your other cousin's room. She's lying with her laptop open on her chest, her eyes closed, and her soft snores filling the room. A smile played on your lips as you walked over to her, closed the laptop, and placed it on her desk. Using her LED remote, you turned off the strips of light around the room, plunging it into darkness.
After your eyes swiftly adapted to the darkness, you carefully tucked the covers over her petite frame and quietly exited the room. The gentle sound of her door closing brought forth another sigh of relief. Glancing at your watch, you nodded with contentment, realizing that you had a valuable half an hour before all the room doors would be securely locked for the night. It provided ample time to tidy up and prepare for the following day.
As you made your way down the stairs, the creaking noise made you wince, fully aware that you couldn't afford for either child to stir. Swallowing hard, you descended the stairs with newfound caution. As you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, a wave of relief washed over you. The tension that had been building in your chest slowly began to dissipate without any sounds of the baby crying or the little girl calling out.
You started by straightening up the living room, turning on some lo-fi music, and cleaning quickly. After switching off the main light, you flick on the display light, which emits a soft glow, barely doing anything to brighten the room. The kitchen took a lot longer, particularly when clearing out the solidified chocolate from the bowls and wiping down the counters. In the end, it took a total of 20 minutes to finish cleaning the kitchen.
You couldn't help but feel a surge of nervousness as you stole another glance at your watch. The timer displayed only 10 minutes left, intensifying your anxiety. Shaking your head, you dismissed your nerves and concentrated on preparing for tomorrow.
Lost in thought, the sound of your watch going off caused your heart to skip a beat. Cursing, you quickly packed up, whispering small, scared 'no's to yourself. A faint cheer escaped you as you completed the task, rushing to ascend the stairs on time. Your heart sank as the resounding click of all the doors locking echoed in your ears.
You felt a slight vibration and immediately retrieved your phone from your back pocket. It was your Aunt, making sure everything was okay with you and the kids.
Auntie : Hey girly, are you and the kids in alright? Did you make it to the room?
Nervously, you gulped, your hands shaking and palms moist with sweat. Without hesitation, you promptly responded, your teeth prodding at your bottom lip.
You : Yes we did, the kids are asleep.
Lying to your aunt made your heartache, but you were too prideful to tell her the truth. Instead of offering a reply, she simply responded with a thumbs-up emoji and a heart. Letting out a heavy, ragged breath, you swiftly returned your phone to your pocket. Descending the stairs, your eyes slowly adapted to the dimness. The previously illuminated display had now turned off automatically, leaving you huddled on the couch, overwhelmed by a sense of unease.
Following a good thirty-minute interval, your fear gradually subsided. You reached for your phone, scrolling through social media to find no one online.
Growing more confident, you entertained the possibility that whatever had caused unrest in the community had either disappeared or would not manifest tonight. As you removed your glasses, your vision blurred slightly, your body relaxed, and your gaze fixated on the phone screen that was dangerously close to your face. ( It was probably why you had glasses in the first place. )
Time slipped away faster than expected, and suddenly, it was midnight. The profound silence stirred up a fresh wave of concern, as the absence of wildlife sounds, like crickets and owls, made you feel the urge to curl up and disappear into the couch.
Your phone vibrated, signaling the low battery before shutting down abruptly. You clicked your tongue in annoyance and silently made your way towards the charger, plugging it in. Slipping out of your tight-fitting jeans, you remained in your undergarments, stretching your legs. Folding the jeans neatly, you placed them on the back of a nearby chair before returning to the couch and settling in comfortably with a soft, velvet blue throw draped over your exposed legs.
As tiredness crept in, your eyes began to droop, causing your vision to blur and lose focus. The sudden piercing bark of a dog jolted you out of your drowsy state, causing your entire body to freeze. Which was so unusual for the neighbor's dogs, who were known for their friendly demeanor and familiarity with the community, this feral, unfamiliar bark made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
The barking grew increasingly louder and more aggressive, accompanied by menacing snarls. The sounds elicited a pounding sensation in your chest, so intense that it caused a searing pain. Unexpectedly, the barking and snarling abruptly ceased, but rather than providing any relief, it caused a profound sense of despair, causing your heart to sink.
Holding your breath, your eyes widened as a towering, monstrous, and slender figure glided past the frosted windows adjacent to the door. Its voice was distorted, emitting broken and eerie sounds, desperately pleading in its otherworld gravelly voice, "Help me. Someone help."
The arrangement of your Aunt's house was peculiar. The back door functioned as the main entrance, revealing the dining room and kitchen upon entry. Moving forward led to the living room, while continuing onwards brought you to the front door. Situated to the right of the front door were the stairs leading to both your Aunt's and the children's rooms.
At the moment, you found yourself positioned in the living room, standing tall with your gaze fixed on the door. In an instant, the door seemed to draw nearer than you had initially perceived, causing a sense of fear to grip you. As it vanished beyond the second window, you released a sigh of relief, nearly letting out a scream as the shadow reappeared by the window, as if it had detected the sound of your breath.
The door was locked, it couldn't get in, right? Your vision became obscured by tears, and you chastised yourself for your stupidity. Part of the prep was making sure that the doors that couldn't be locked by the system were locked manually. Regrettably, in your rush to reach the room, you had completely forgotten to lock the front door.
The turning of the doorknob emits a high-pitched squeak, prompting you to immediately flatten yourself against the couch while covering your mouth and nose with your hands. The grating sound of the door opening compels you to tightly shut your eyes. A cool draft of air infiltrates the room, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Within this tense ambiance, a menacing snarl and a huff reverberate, accompanied by the unsettling noise of bones cracking as the intruder maneuvers to enter the house.
The soft whimper of the floorboards serves as a warning of its presence, prompting you to reluctantly open your eyes. A sudden gasp escapes your lips as you behold its towering horns, skeletal face morphing into a snout, and blood-red eyes. With a shudder, you tightly shut your eyes as the creature's head swivels in your direction, swiftly advancing toward where you lay on the couch.
Merely a few inches away from your position, the creature sniffs the air intently before gradually drawing nearer. As you open your eyes once more, you carefully scrutinize its appearance. Contrary to your initial perception, the creature's physique is not as slender as it seemed from afar. Adorned with a layer of fur, its arms display a muscularity that is not excessive, striking a harmonious balance. Furthermore, its thighs possess a substantial thickness, evoking a sense of strength. However, as your gaze trails down, you notice that its hind legs taper into a much skinnier form.
The creature looms closer than anticipated, its intense heat palpable against your skin. Despite its towering presence, its warm breath gently brushes your face. Your breathing stops as you feel something drag across your skin, it's rock hard but there's a softness to it. It pulsates rhythmically, and you swear that you can feel veins throbbing along its surface, a sticky and viscous substance oozing along your skin, inflicting a searing sensation.
You come to the realization that you are positioned just below the creature's waist, nearly at the same height. Was it– its cock touching you? Tears escape from your eyes, and you find yourself unable to move as it accidentally nudges against your lips. The creature is still in search of the sound it heard earlier, but your motionless state and barely audible breaths are causing confusion. You wonder briefly if it's blind.
You ache to turn your head away from it, yet you're acutely aware that any movement on your part could potentially alert it, and you could be killed. You endure it, eyes watching its head whip around for you. It leans closer, hips following suit. Scared that it'll notice your presence, in a hushed surrender, you part your lips, just in time for its throbbing member to slide into your warm, saliva-laden mouth— you had refrained from swallowing, fearing that the sound might betray your presence. Underestimated, its long thick cock pushes against your throat, forcing you to suppress any sound that threatens to escape. Perhaps you should've just made a run for it.
You can feel the hefty weight of its balls against your chin and clench your eyes shut as it jerks its hips back, causing you to exhale shakily through your nose. With its motion paused you observe one of its hind legs tapping on the wooden floor, seemingly quivering with delight from the sensation of being in your mouth.
Tears stream down your face as you stifle your sobs, desperately attempting to keep yourself from gagging. The creature's hips begin to thrust with an untamed ferocity, its primal growls and snarls resonating through its chest. Its flavor is raw and invigorating, not entirely repulsive but rather tolerable. The living room fills with the wet, squelching sound as saliva overflows in your mouth. Its member plunges deeper into your throat, causing drool to cascade down your cheek.
Your pussy throbs and clenches despite your fear. The disgust you feel towards yourself for being turned on in such a situation only heightens the sensation of disdain. The beast emits guttural grunts now, its hips faltering, and you can sense its impending climax. Arousal drips from your cunt, coating your labia and making your panties stick to you uncomfortably.
As terrified as you are, the urge to swallow is becoming overwhelmingly difficult to ignore. Squeezing your eyes tightly shut, you succumb to the temptation, swallowing as discreetly as possible, relieved that the sound remains unheard. However, this action seems to have an unexpected effect on the creature, as the feeling of your throat squeezing the tip of its cock causes it to thrust forward abruptly, causing you to gag, feeling it nearly reach the depths of your throat.
Thick ropes of tacky, sweet cum coat your throat white and you find it hard to swallow. Its legs shudder for a moment and it continues to move its hips in your mouth before it thankfully backs away from the couch, seemingly satisfied.
Anticipation filled your gaze as you observed it retreat toward the entrance., almost sighing in relief as you parted your thighs, feeling the tension release as your pussy lips spread apart, the sensation of wetness trickling down your thighs.
Sniff
Your gaze darted upwards, and a surge of fear coursed through you, and it made you want to scream. The creature was gazing in your direction, yet not directly at you. The door became a distant memory as it slowly retraced its steps toward your position, its nose held high in the air. You realized it must have caught the intoxicating scent of your arousal. In a discreet attempt, you closed your legs, hoping to dissuade its advances.
But it persisted, undeterred. With your eyes clenched shut, tears streamed down, obscuring your vision. It halted at your head, lowering itself to take a deep, lingering sniff, still unsatisfied. Lower and lower it ventured, until it paused just above your belly button. Another teasing sniff, followed by a playful chuff, before it finally made its way towards your tightly closed legs.
With a gentle nudge, its snout caressed your thighs, urging you to surrender. You hesitated, knowing that if you resisted, it would employ a more forceful approach. Reluctantly, you yielded, parting your thighs, cursing your decision to forgo pajama bottoms after removing your jeans. A jolt of surprise coursed through you as its elongated, slightly pointed tongue sensually traced the contours of your inner thigh.
Drawing nearer, it sniffed intently, determined to locate the exact origin of the alluring scent. One of its legs rested on the couch, its body contorted to get closer to your pulsating entrance. Though fear gripped you, causing tremors, your wet pussy clenched and released, eagerly anticipating something, anything. The heat of its breath brushed against your legs, its horns pressed against your stomach. Its elongated black tongue slithered forward, disappearing between your thighs, causing your soaked panties to dampen even more so as it leisurely licked and coiled around the fabric.
Eagerly, it buried its head between your luscious thighs, its horns grazing against your quivering stomach. Your body tensed as its teeth sank into your delicate underwear, tearing it apart with horrifying ease. A provocative sniff caused a blush to bloom on your cheeks, and you resisted the urge to close your legs.
And suddenly you’re lost in a haze of desire, your eyes rolled back, surrendering to the intense pleasure coursing through your cunt. Its tongue skillfully traced a path up your slick folds, lavishing attention on your throbbing clit with a delicious roughness. Your legs tensed, responding to the electrifying sensations, while its commanding hands firmly grasped your thighs, ensuring a steady grip as it delved deeper into your pussy.
The relentless drag of its slippery, warm tongue had you gasping for air. It was evident that the beast had developed a fascination with your tender bundle of nerves. As it continued to lap at it, your juices drooled from your throbbing pussy, the thin part of its tongue coiled around your clit, squeezing and prodding it.
You couldn't help but moan out as you came, pussy spasming. Paying no mind to the noise, it continued to lick up your moist slit, rumbling as it stumbled upon your small, tight entrance. Withdrawing, it grasped your legs tightly, almost folding you in half, pressing your thighs against your breasts.
What was happening? What was it doing?
The sheer heaviness of its throbbing member grazing against your drenched folds elicited a sharp intake of breath, at this point you didn't care if you made noise or not. That thing would surely rip your pussy apart.
It prodded at your entrance, clumsily trying to find your hole. When the head of its cock finally slid against you, it snarled lowly, the tip of its cock getting drenched from your arousal. The wendigo slowly inched in and you whine out as the bulbous tip slowly pops in, painfully stretching you. Your thighs tremble as your pussy reluctantly give way to its overwhelming thickness, pulsating around the beast timidly.
You're a moaning mess, completely enthralled as its fat, long cock disappears into your dripping cunt. Every vein and ridge pulsates against your sensitive walls. Your tightness clenches around its cock, causing it to emit a deep growl as it sinks deeper and deeper. The bulbous head tenderly grazes your cervix, while its weighty, thick balls press firmly against your ass. Your whimpers and spasms intensify, your eyes rolling back and your nipples straining against your blouse. It remains motionless for a moment, its breaths labored and its grip tightening against your trembling thighs.
With a forceful pull and a swift thrust, it sets a punishing rhythm. The silhouette of its member presses against your abdomen, and it makes you even whine in embarrassment, cheeks flushing. The fear has ebbed away and you can only moan and cry for more, you can feel the drag of its pelvis touch your aching clit when it pulls out. The pain and pleasure meld together, distorting your vision, your eyes bleary and lips parted.
A particular rough thrust against your g-spot has you cumming hard and long, your pussy gripping its cock tightly, milking it with fervor. It thrusts into you once more, gently stretching your cervix open, its tip finding a comfortable resting place. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your womb, the sheer girth of its member ensuring not a single drop escapes, it lasts for a few minutes until your stomach extends slightly and you're too tired to move.
As it withdraws, a torrent of cum spills onto the couch, causing your belly to deflate slightly, yet not completely. The wendigo is finally sheathed, its cock nowhere in sight.
In an instant, a sensation of weightlessness engulfs you, as if you are floating on air. You find yourself nestled against the powerful chest of the creature, your mind clouded with desire and confusion. Despite your desperate attempts, you are unable to break free from its hold, your throat throbbing with pain.
In the blink of an eye, the two of you are whisked away, leaving the safety of the house behind. Your feeble attempt to reach for the door is futile, as it vanishes into thin air. Now, surrounded by the mysterious allure of the forest, you realize that you are not alone. More of those captivating creatures encircle you, their presence both exhilarating and unnerving.
Tears cascade down your delicate cheeks as your gaze is drawn to their thick, long, heavy cocks hanging between their legs— despite how absolutely terrified you are, your pussy begins to ache and drip. Gradually, you are lowered onto the soft ground, the sensation of the grass teasing your supine form. One of the creatures steps forward, communicating with its companion in a series of excited chitters.
Your trembling legs are gently parted, allowing a thicker, lengthier shaft to penetrate your eager entrance. The keening sound of your wanton moans fills the air, blending with the rustling of the grass in the secluded clearing. Suddenly, something nudges your lips, and as you gaze upwards, another creature stands before you, its gaze fixated upon your vulnerable form. Without hesitation, you part your lips, your eyes widening in anticipation as their hips thrust forward, plunging into your mouth, instantly throat-fucking you. You splutter and gag, fear settling deep in your chest.
Your gaze becomes misty as your eyes well up, and as you peer through them, you notice a multitude of over 50 more of them, cocks oozing with precum, waiting for a chance to fuck you themselves.
Is this how you'd be living now?
#monsterfucker#monster fucker#monster smut#monster headcanons#monster lover#monster nsft#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x you#monster romance#tw monsterfucking#fantasy#female writers#possessive#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#female reader#mates#monster imagine#male monster#monster bf#submisive and breedable#wendigo#wendigo x reader#monster kink#deunmiu dessie
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Filling the void
aaron hotchner x afab!reader
Warnings!: smut minors DNI
summary: After tucking in jack, you realised how badly you wanted a baby with Aaron
Wc: 3.7k
Heavy on the breeding kink!!, p in v (wrap it up tho), creampie, lactation kink kinda (?), dirty talk, age gap (later seasons aaron, reader is in her twenties) lmk if i forgot something!
a/n: i orginally was not planning on posting an aaron fic today but I'm ovulating rn and i just need this man to breed me. That's it. Also I can't find a gif of later seasons aaron smiling so😭
You heard the front door creak open just as you pulled Jack’s bedroom door closed behind you. The soft click of the latch was a quiet reward after successfully getting him to bed. Aaron’s return brought a wave of relief; his presence always grounded the house, making everything feel more complete. You saw him standing at the entrance, pulling off his suit jacket with practiced ease, his hair slightly mussed from a long day of work.
“Is he already asleep?” Aaron asked, glancing toward Jack’s door as he set his bag down by the entryway and hung his jacket over the back of a chair.
You shook your head, smiling softly. “Not yet. Go say goodnight before he drifts off,” you suggested, knowing Jack would want that last moment with his dad.
Aaron’s face softened at your words. He closed the distance between you and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours with a familiar, tender kiss that sent warmth spreading through your chest. “You’re the best,” he murmured against your lips before pulling away and heading down the hallway to Jack’s room.
You watched him for a moment, feeling the love and contentment settle around you like a warm blanket. This was home. Jack was tucked in, Aaron was back, and everything felt just as it should. You made your way to the living room, slipping into your comfortable loungewear. The cozy clothes were a contrast to the busy day you’d had, a signal that it was finally time to relax.
As you sank into the plush cushions of the couch, you could hear Aaron’s soft voice coming from Jack’s room. He always had that gentle, soothing tone when he talked to his son, even after the most stressful days. It was one of the many things you loved about him—the way he could switch from FBI Unit Chief to loving father in the span of a breath.
Soon, Aaron returned, the familiar creak of the floorboards under his feet signaling his approach. He had changed into his pajamas—flannel pants and a plain white T-shirt that hugged his strong frame. His hair was still slightly tousled, and there was a tired but peaceful expression on his face as he walked into the living room and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders without a word. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
The soft glow of the television illuminated the room, but neither of you paid much attention to it. The comfort of being near each other, after another day of navigating the complexities of life, was enough. You absently traced patterns on Aaron’s arm with your fingertips, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his skin. His hand squeezed your shoulder gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.
Minutes passed like this, quiet and content, the peace between you a testament to how strong your relationship had become. It was in these small moments, tucked between the chaos of your everyday lives, that you truly felt how much you loved him. And Jack. And the life the three of you were building.
But tonight, your heart was full of more than just love for what you already had. It was full of a new kind of hope, a desire that had been quietly growing in you for some time now. You lifted your head from Aaron’s shoulder and shifted slightly, turning to face him. Then, in one fluid motion, you straddled his lap, your knees sinking into the couch on either side of his hips.
Aaron’s eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face as his hands instinctively found your waist. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What are you doing?” His voice was teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity as his eyes searched yours.
You smiled back, your fingers trailing up his chest before resting on his shoulders. “You know I really love Jack,” you whispered, leaning in close, your noses almost brushing.
Aaron’s expression softened immediately, his gaze warm as he looked up at you. “Yes, I know you do,” he said softly. “And he loves you.” His eyes searched yours, a hint of emotion flickering beneath his words. “And so do I,” he added, his voice low and sincere.
He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss, his hands sliding up from your waist to your back, pulling you closer against him. The familiar sensation of his touch sent warmth flooding through you, but tonight, your thoughts were on something more, something deeper.
As the kiss broke, you leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered the words that had been on your heart for some time now. “I want a baby Aaron.”
For a moment, everything stilled. His hands froze on your back, his breath catching in his throat. You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face, to see the way his expression shifted from surprise to something that mirrored the emotions swirling in your own chest.
“A baby?” Aaron repeated softly, as if he needed to make sure he heard you correctly.
You nodded, your fingers brushing through his dark hair. “Yes,” you said, your voice steady, but your heart racing. “I love you, Aaron. I love Jack. And I want to grow our family. I want to have a baby with you. Please make me pregnant.”
His eyes softened, but behind that softness was something else, a shadow of hesitation. He swallowed hard, his hands resting on your hips, keeping you steady in his lap. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could tell he was thinking, his mind racing through all the things he hadn’t said yet.
“I… I don’t know,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m scared, to be honest.”
You blinked, pulling back just enough to see his face more clearly. “Scared?” you asked softly, your hands still resting on his chest. “Why?”
Aaron let out a long breath, running a hand through his tousled hair. “It’s just… with my job, everything I see, the risks I face every day… I’m not sure I can handle bringing another child into that world. Jack is already a huge part of my life, and he’s growing up. But starting over… it’s a lot. And…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering down for a moment before meeting yours again. “I’m not exactly getting any younger. I already feel old some days.”
Your heart ached a little at the vulnerability in his words. He rarely let down his guard like this, and hearing his worries laid bare reminded you just how deeply he cared about the people in his life. But you also knew that this hesitation came from a place of fear—fear of the unknown, of losing control, of risking more when he already had so much to protect.
You shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “Aaron,” you whispered, leaning in closer, your lips grazing his ear. “I get that you’re scared. I understand. But I also know you. And I know how much love you have to give. You’re an amazing father to Jack… and you’d be just as amazing with another baby.”
His grip on your hips tightened a little as your words washed over him, but you could still sense the doubt lingering in his mind.
You smiled softly, letting your fingers trace along the back of his neck. “And besides,” you added with a playful glint in your eye, “I’d look so good pregnant with your baby.”
Aaron’s eyes widened slightly as you shifted again in his lap, your body pressing more firmly against him. The playful grin on your face made heat rise in his cheeks, and you could feel the subtle reaction from his body beneath you—the growing bulge between his legs. He inhaled sharply, his hands moving to steady you, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward into a small smile despite himself.
“Hmm,” he groaned softly, leaning his head back against the couch, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “Your hormones are just talking,” he murmured, trying to play it off, but you could see the way his resolve was beginning to melt under your touch.
Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. The sudden interruption broke the moment for a split second, and you glanced down at the screen, seeing the notification flash. It was a reminder to take your birth control.
Aaron’s chuckle broke the silence. He raised an eyebrow, his hand resting on your thigh now. “Ah, look at that. It’s a sign we shouldn’t do it,” he said, half-serious but with a teasing edge to his voice.
You met his gaze and without a second thought, you tossed your phone across the room, hearing it land with a soft thud on the carpet. “Or maybe,” you whispered, leaning down so that your lips were just inches from his, “it’s a sign that I should stop taking birth control.”
Aaron’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with the weight of your words. His hands froze again on your hips, his mind clearly racing as he tried to process what you were saying. “Stop taking…?” he began, but you cut him off with a seductive smile.
“Wouldn’t it be fun?” you whispered against his lips, your voice sultry. “Just to try for a baby anytime we can. No more holding back. Just us… trying, whenever we feel like it and keeping your cum inside of me for as long as I can.”
You rolled your hips ever so slightly, feeling his reaction underneath you. Aaron groaned, his head falling back against the couch again, eyes closed as he tried to hold onto the last threads of his self-control.
“Please, Aaron,” you continued, your voice a soft plea as your lips grazed his neck. “I want this. I want you. And I know you want it too…”
His hands tightened on your waist, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggled to maintain his resolve. You could feel the conflict in him, his logical, cautious side battling with the desire you were stirring up with each movement of your body against his.
He opened his eyes, looking up at you with a mixture of hesitation and raw emotion. “This is a huge decision,” he said, his voice thick. “Are you really sure about this? About us… having a baby?”
You smiled softly, cupping his face in your hands as you leaned down to kiss him, your lips gentle but full of promise. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you whispered against his lips.
Aaron’s resolve finally broke. With a groan, he pulled you closer, his lips crashing into yours with a sudden intensity that made your heart race. His hands roamed over your back, your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The tension that had been building between you both finally released, and in that moment, you knew that he was ready-ready to take this leap with you, ready to start this new chapter of your lives.
As you straddled Aaron’s lap, the heat between you became unbearable, the tension of the moment thick in the air. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over your body. Slowly, he lifted your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. The cool air hit your exposed chest, and immediately, your nipples hardened, betraying how sensitive you were to his touch. His gaze locked on them with raw hunger.
Without a second’s hesitation, Aaron’s mouth found your breast, his lips closing around your sensitive skin as he began to kiss and suck, his tongue flicking over your nipple in a way that made you whimper. His hand came up to cup your other breast, squeezing gently as his mouth worked its magic, driving you wild.
“Fuck, it’d be so sexy if these were full of milk,” he murmured, the sudden filthy talk catching you off guard. His voice, so deep and seductive, sent another wave of arousal straight through you. The idea of being pregnant with his baby, your body changing for him, made your heart race and your body tremble with need.
You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, your body aching for him. “Fuck, Aaron, please,” you gasped, your voice breathy and desperate. “Just fuck me.”
He pulled back from your chest, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Oh, you’re so impatient,” he whispered, his tone laced with playful arrogance.
Unable to wait any longer, you leaned in, crashing your lips against his in a hungry kiss. As you kissed him, you ground your hips harder against his, feeling the bulge beneath you grow even more. Aaron groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tightly, but he wasn’t giving in just yet. His control, his teasing, only made you want him more.
Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and stood up from the couch, holding you against him as if you weighed nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to make too much noise as he carried you down the hallway toward your shared bedroom, being mindful of Jack sleeping in the next room. You could feel Aaron’s heart pounding against your chest, the heat of his body pressed so close to yours, and every step made your anticipation grow.
As soon as he pushed open the door to your bedroom, he laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes dark with need as he hovered over you. His hands moved quickly, tugging off your pants and underwear in one swift motion. You shivered at the feeling of being exposed to him, your body aching for him to touch you. He wasted no time in pulling off his own pants, revealing his already hard, leaking cock. The sight of it made your mouth water, your eyes glued to the way it pulsed, ready for you.
Aaron caught the way you were staring, and a wicked smile curved his lips. “Be patient,” he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “There’s going to be a lot of this inside you soon.”
And then, without warning, he pushed himself inside you in one smooth motion. The sudden stretch made you cry out, your back arching off the bed as your fingers gripped the bedsheets tightly. He filled you completely, his cock so thick and hard inside you that it made your entire body shudder.
Aaron groaned as he bottomed out, his head falling to your shoulder as he took a moment to savour the feeling of being inside you. “God, you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.
He started to move, slow at first, each thrust deep and purposeful, hitting all the right spots inside you. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the delicious friction driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your body responded to his every movement, your hips rising to meet his as you moaned his name, lost in the feeling of him inside you.
There were kisses, soft and sweet, shared between moans and gasps for air. His lips found yours, then your neck, then your chest again, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed your body, fingers exploring every inch of skin he could reach, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.
Just when you felt yourself on the brink of release, Aaron pulled out, leaving you gasping from the sudden emptiness. You whimpered in protest, your body aching for him to fill you again, but he wasn’t done yet.
He grabbed your legs, lifting them and placing them over his shoulders, angling your hips just right. When he thrust back inside you, the new position made him hit deeper, harder, a spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving red marks as you clung to him, your moans filling the room.
Aaron’s head fell back, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the sensation of being buried so deep inside you. You could feel him twitching, the tension building in his body, and you knew he was close. “Please,” you moaned, your voice shaky with need. “Please make me pregnant, Daddy. Just use me whenever you want.”
Your words sent him over the edge. His hips snapped forward, his thrusts becoming erratic, harder, faster. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “I’m going to get you pregnant. Everyone will know that you begged for my cum and that I gave it to you.”
With one final, deep thrust, you both came together, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your entire body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Aaron followed right after, groaning deeply as he emptied himself inside you, filling you with his release. You could feel him pulsing, twitching inside you as he rode out his orgasm, his hips still moving as he pushed himself deeper.
For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies still locked together.
As the waves of pleasure finally began to subside, you collapsed onto the bed beside Aaron, your breathing still heavy, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to his side, and you nestled into his warmth, feeling the afterglow of everything that had just happened between you.
Your head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you both slowly came down from the high. The room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing and the occasional rustling of the sheets as you shifted to get comfortable.
You let out a soft chuckle, still catching your breath. “I guess I’ll have to throw my birth control away,” you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.
Aaron’s deep laugh rumbled through him, the sound making you smile. “Yeah, you should do that,” he replied, his voice still husky from everything you’d shared.
You grinned, but as the moment settled around you, the weight of what you were discussing—the enormity of the decision—began to creep into your mind. You lifted your head slightly, looking up at him. The soft light in the room highlighted the contours of his face, the small lines around his eyes that came from years of both stress and joy, and the way his lips curved into that subtle smile he reserved just for you.
“Hey,” you whispered, your voice a little more serious now, “are you really sure about this, Aaron? I mean, I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.” You paused, your heart racing a little, unsure of what he might say next. The desire for a baby was real, but so was the reality of what it would mean for both of you.
Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes soft as they met yours. He reached up, gently cupping your cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing across your skin in a tender, reassuring gesture.
“Sweetheart,” he began, his voice steady and filled with that signature calmness that always made you feel safe, “I’m an old man. I’ve been around long enough to know what I want, and I can make my own decisions.” He gave you a teasing smile, but there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “And I want this with you. I’m not going to lie—it’s a big deal, and I’ve thought about it. But seeing you with Jack, seeing how much you love him… I know you’ll be an amazing mom. And I want to share that with you.”
Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest as you held his gaze. You leaned into his touch, feeling the truth in everything he was saying. He wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear; he truly meant it.
“And,” he added, his voice dropping into that playful, husky tone again, “I really love the process of making the baby.”
You laughed softly, the tension in the air dissolving as his teasing words brought a smile to your lips. “Oh, I can tell,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly.
Aaron kissed you back, his lips slow and gentle against yours, the tenderness of the moment wrapping around both of you like a warm blanket. When you pulled away, you could still feel the smile lingering on his lips.
“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping out naturally, effortlessly. They felt like the most honest thing you’d ever said.
“I love you, too,” Aaron whispered back, his voice filled with the weight of all the unspoken promises between you.
You both shifted under the covers, settling into each other’s arms as the exhaustion from the night finally caught up with you. His hand rested on your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin as you drifted closer to sleep. The soft rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a comfortable, peaceful state, and the warmth of his body next to yours made you feel like you were exactly where you belonged.
Just before sleep claimed you, you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll figure this out together,” he whispered, his words barely audible but full of meaning.
You smiled against his chest, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. And as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. The possibilities felt endless, and with Aaron beside you, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it with love, strength, and the kind of partnership that only deepened with time.
taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch
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