#thing on your swing AU
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
rhonuscorner · 24 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
@sourtomatola I'm your Secret Skeleton! Happy Halloween!!!
I picked something from your Thing On Your Swing AU, Eclipse's introduction scene where he comes crawling out of the ground like some kind of hell born demon spawn seemed perfect for Halloween. He's delightfully creepy and unhinged <3 And I know that the tree is supposed to be a pine tree but I took some artistic license with it because I wanted to draw something more gnarly and twisted for the ✨aesthetic✨
I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun working on this ^__^
94 notes · View notes
weirdenbyferret · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
As i promised, @sourtomatola ur next!!!
Toma please, this man is so pretty, i want him to also be our hubbyyyyyyyyyy
28 notes · View notes
lec743 · 2 months ago
Note
Awesome <3
My request is fay Sun and Moon dressed in the Eclipse's date outfit.
Congrats on 1000 followers!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thank you guys so much for all the requests!!
Oh, I do have another version of the boys in fancy fae-wear
Thing on your swing masterpost
47 notes · View notes
kabutoden · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
listen i know i said they dont have godtier powers but au where they do. list. listen. are you hearing me. mage of time ceruleanblood with intense and volatile emotions and low emotive knight of doom rustblood. its doomed yuri. its timed yuri. ill love you forever but we dont have that. and we never will. duty. knowledge. resignation to fate. a single moment between enemies/lovers to last an eternity the scorpion and the fly..........
111 notes · View notes
laymedowntorest · 21 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
My shitposts will outlive me
@sourtomatola
36 notes · View notes
victorluvsalice · 4 days ago
Text
Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day Four: Let’s Dance (Severance AU)
We've reached Day Four of Valicer Polyship Week 2024, inspired by @polyshipweek, and our prompt today is "Let's Dance!" Because, while I don't talk about it as much as I used to, I am still a huge fan of my various ships dancing together. :D And I knew exactly what AU I wanted to pair the prompt with -- my new Valicer Severance AU! Otherwise known as "I Owe My Soul To The Company Store" after that one music video I reblogged. Severance the TV show has a rather iconic scene of the Innies getting a "Music/Dance Experience" in episode 7 (you can watch it here if you are so inclined -- warning, it takes a turn for the violent near the end, as one of the main characters is on edge after learning something interesting about his Outie's life the night before), so I figured this prompt would be the perfect opportunity to do my take on what an MDE would look like for my Innie trio. :) Hope you enjoy!
--
DeeedledeeedleeDIIING!
Smiler jerked their hands away from their keyboard, blinking. Across from them, Victor jumped, looking around. “W-what was that?”
“Sounded like it came from Smiler’s computer,” Alice said, getting up and peering over the partition separating their desks. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Smiler insisted, eyeing their set-up suspiciously. “I just sorted another set of numbers, and then that happened.”
“Well, you must have done something different.” Alice leaned on the partition, smirking. “Did the numbers make you feel a prohibited emotion? Ennui, perhaps?”
Smiler stuck out their tongue at her. “You know this entire job is one big study in ennui,” they said, studying their screen to see if there was anything new and exciting. There were the usual bins at the bottom, waiting to be filled with pointless bullshit; there was the giant field of numbers in the middle, a sea of remorselessly ridiculous digits; there was the name of the file at the top, the never-to-be-explained “Hill Valley;” there was the progress bar next to that – “Oh! I made 75%!”
“You – wait, really?” Victor said, getting up and coming over for a look.
“Yeah, look.” Smiler pointed at the bar. “Didn’t even realize...so I guess that was a ‘good job’ noise.”
“Huh – congratulations, then,” Alice said, looking slightly impressed despite herself. “First time any of us have managed that with a file – Wheatley!” she called over to their supervisor. “Smiler got 75% on Hill Valley!”
“They what?” Wheatley came zooming over on his rail to see, stopping just over Victor’s shoulder and making him duck out of the way. “Oh, look at that! That’s fantastic!” he declared, flexing his outer plates. “That means you, Smiler A., get an MDE!”
“MDE?” Smiler repeated, brow crinkled.
“Music/Dance experience! A five-minute dance party – DJed by yours truly,” Wheatley added, spinning on his rail. “Let me get the cart – just a moment!”
He zipped off, humming to himself. Smiler watched him go, then looked back at Victor and Alice. “I – I gotta admit, I’d kind of forgotten that was a thing,” they said, brushing their bangs out of their face.
“So had I,” Victor said, going back to his own desk. “Hang on, there must be something on it in the handbook…” He pulled it out of his drawer and flipped through it. “Here we are – yes, it’s the tier just below 100% completion and Cake Day. I’m not surprised we forgot, though – like Alice said, none of us have ever gotten that far on a file before.”
“They must have forgotten to expire yours before you hit the magic number,” Alice said, smiling. “Well, good to know that we can get rewards other than those stupid erasers and finger traps. Just don’t get your hopes up about the cake.”
“I won’t, trust me,” Smiler said, crossing their heart with a finger. “Besides, with our luck? I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave us a giant wad of tuna fish in the shape of a cake instead.”
Victor pulled a face. “If they did that, I’d burn this fucking place to the ground.”
“Can we get that in writing?” Alice asked, leaning on her hand.
Before Smiler could point out that there was no way any of them were getting access to matches anytime soon, Wheatley returned, followed by a little motorized cart that skidded to a stop beside Smiler’s desk, bearing a trio of cheap party hats in Aperture-approved orange and blue and a couple of speakers. “Here we are! Wouldn’t let me connect to it at first, but I had a few words with it,” he said brightly. “All right, so – just pick your genre of music and your accessory, and we’ll be off!”
“Accessory?” Smiler repeated – then jerked back as a drawer on the cart popped out practically into their lap, bearing a maraca, a pair of castanets, a party horn, a set of bells on a stick, and a single sad glowstick. “Oh. Uh – so – I just – pick something?”
“Yup! Grab your item, then you can choose your music,” Wheatley said, rolling his optic down toward a laminated list of musical genres lying atop the cart. “And then it’s party time! Wooo!”
Smiler snorted. “You’re happier about this than I am,” they noted, looking through their “accessory” options.
“Well, it does mean that I’ve been doing a great job as your supervisor,” Wheatley said, in a tone that said that if he had a nose, he’d be putting it in the air. “And besides, this isn’t like when you guys made those race cars out of office supplies, or went wandering off and petted those baby goats, or had your little make-out picnic in the kitchen. This is an Official Aperture Science Macrodata Refinement Incentive! Miss Glados can’t say a word about us taking five minutes to boogie!”
A grin slowly spread over Smiler’s face. “...that’s a good point.” Sure, corporate-mandated fun was probably far from the best fun they could have down here, but it was definitely the safest. And Smiler really enjoyed the idea of Miss Glados steaming over seeing them happy, but being unable to do anything about it. They picked up the glowstick and gave it a little shake, watching it light up a pleasant banana yellow (not that they ever remembered seeing a banana, but they were reasonably sure that was right). “This feels me.”
“It does,” Alice agreed, coming around to look at the list of music as the drawer retracted as violently as it had extended. “As for your music choices...you’ve your pick of Defiant Jazz, Bawdy Funk, Playful Punk, Wistful Pipes, Effusive Ska, Bouncy Swing–
“That one,” Smiler cut in with a nod, getting up. “This is supposed to be a party, isn’t it? Let’s have the happiest music we’ve got.”
“Sounds good to me! Now, everybody, this is in Smiler’s honor, but you should all feel free to get up and dance!” Wheatley announced, as if he was talking to a giant crowd instead of just three people. “Let’s get this party started!”
Right on cue, the lights dimmed, then started cycling through a rainbow of different colors as out of the cart’s speakers came the most upbeat, high-tempo music Smiler had ever heard. Not that they actually recalled ever hearing any music before, but that just made this tune all the more exhilarating, sending a thrill straight through their bones. Their feet seemed to move of their own accord, catching the beat and sending them spinning across the floor. Laughing, Smiler let their body take control, shaking their glowstick to the rhythm of the horns. Good to know some part of me knows how to dance! Would have been embarrassing otherwise!
“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Wheatley cheered, bobbing to the beat as best he could while Smiler soft-shoed about. “Come on, Victor, Alice! Not a party with just two people!”
Victor smiled awkwardly and began very tentatively to sway on the spot, raising his arms slightly. Alice, by contrast, immediately threw herself into the music, waving her hands in the air and doing some very interesting hops and skips around their cubicles. “What is that?” Smiler laughed, boogieing over her way.
“No bloody clue, but it feels right!” Alice responded with a big grin, grabbing their hands and swinging them around before flinging them away. She promptly bounced over to Victor, grabbing his hands in turn. “Come on – we know you can do better than that!”
“I don’t,” Victor said, though he did let Alice pull him forward, closer to the cart.
“Well, we wouldn’t actually know if you messed up,” Smiler pointed out encouragingly, making their way over and bumping their shoulder against Victor’s side before fluttering their eyelashes up at him. “Please?”
Victor snorted. “You’re very silly,” he noted, picking up the rhythm more as he moved from side to side. “Both of you.”
“That’s why you love us,” Alice said, twirling herself into his arms before gazing up at him adoringly.
Victor smiled down at her, then over at Smiler, freeing a hand to beckon them over. “Yes. Yes it is.”
Smiler followed his finger, their heart going all warm and runny at the deep fondness in Victor’s eyes, and the cheeky little grin on Alice’s face. Not for the first time (or the second, or the third, or the fiftieth), they found themselves wishing they could leave this stupid fucking office and actually go outside. Go live an actual life somewhere together, where there were windows and seasons and as few numbers as possible. Where they got eat things other than tuna fish sandwiches and do things other than sit at computers all damn day. Where they could be together without constantly worrying about cameras and Miss Glados and the Break Room. Where they could dance for more than five minutes to whatever music they liked.
But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, if ever. Not with everything they were owned by fucking Aperture and its goons. But they still had these five minutes, and Smiler was determined to make the most of them. They slid under Victor’s arm and snuggled up to him, slipping their free arm around Alice. She pulled them in close, and together they bobbed to the music, just enjoying each other’s company and the break from the endless sorting. One day, Smiler quietly vowed, glancing at their partners. One day, we’re getting out of here, whatever it takes. And when we do, the first thing I’m doing is dancing with both of you for real.
7 notes · View notes
good-beanswrites · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Woo hello 🎬!! I kept all of your ask here -- I put it like this for my own easy scrolling, but no way am I cutting any of this, it's so perfect AH
Oughhhhgh Haruka getting more confident from hanging out with everyone and getting such positive feedback… I’d imagine the back to back innocent verdict and night of compliments would do wonders for his psyche ;-; And same for Muu and Amane! Minus the inno verdict, but the sudden influx of explicit compliments and acknowledgement of “hey, that was fucked up what they did to you, okay?” I wonder if there’s any awkwardness since After Pain directly follows Bring it On, but I like to imagine Fuuta and Muu have a deeper talk about things in private (and maybe Muu hesitantly mentions her involvement with Rei in preparation for INMF…)
Damn, who’s going to give the sex talk to the kids after Yuno’s vide-- Shidou. Sidou does. Without hesitation. They have to stop him because no one wants to hear it and everyone there already understands the basics.I love the idea of she, Mahiru, Muu, and designer Mikoto chatting about everyone’s fashion sense (I can imagine them poking fun at Fuuta’s tracksuit and Shidou’s patterned shirts.) And planning shopping trips that include everyone!!! Amane and Kotoko are given no choice in the matter, and a lot of the guys are genuinely interested in coming along.
Awww, I love the thought of Haruka getting into a “boy” interest with Fuuta and Mikoto -- he never knew what it was like to have brothers but he’s really enjoying it <3 (Also I’m cracking up over Fuuta trying desperately to convince them “it’s not cringe!!!”)
ASDFSDF Mappi just straight up sobbing and Mikoto handing her tissues 😂 But yes, she also gets choked up during Magic and Amane can’t figure out why. This begins the adults’ efforts to get her out of whatever situation she’s currently in (which Jackalope was already half-working on, but is definitely spurred on by several angry almost-murderers demanding he get it done now.)
I do like that idea of Red more comfortable with showing skin than Blue. (I know people are very emotional about the stalker theory, but I personally never took it in a harmful way. I always enjoyed how it was a symbol of stripping away everything else until you’re left with your true, whole self.) So I like to think that Blue feels too exposed, but Red/Green are the ones who pitched it in a symbolic sense! 
I’m losing my mind at Kotoko/Kazui/Red talking about sparring. Everyone else is like “hell yeah, let’s see it!” and Shidou just sitting there like “you all are going to be the death of me. You are NOT fighting.” Because I really want to think about it happening, I’ll say they manage to sneak away at least once and nearly break a prop in the process, to which even Jackalope shuts them down.
I think they all manage to get pretty serious again by the time T2 rolls around, but the hiatus is filled with a lot of sweet moments and healing conversations between everyone. Also, making so many plans for the future helps keep them sane when some of the project immersion gets a bit too real. Whenever they start realizing they might be condemned for their actions and worried that they’re too broken/they’re life is ruined, they come back to those plans and relax a bit.
Absolutely no pressure, but I would love to hear your T2 thoughts! 👀👀👀 I’m so incredibly grateful you’ve taken the time to share your ideas -- from the very beginning this au has been a big collaboration, so it’s super fun bouncing ideas around :D
#milgram#ft everyone!#i really love all of these ;---;#thank you so much!! ive been enjoying these so much and im sure everyone else is as well#i keep swinging drastically from torturing myself by thinking deeply about upcoming angst#and then healing myself thinking of everyone chillin in this au sdfsdfa#pretty soon ill write up a post with little details ive had in mind here and there 👍👍#i just havent had the motivation to put em down on paper yet but youre inspiring me!!!!#and yeah... i swore id finish a few of my current milgram wips before starting anything new but youre tempting meeeee#there will be plenty of time over the upcoming trial break for me to get some writing in im sure 👀#in a more serious tone i want to write a little drabble of the prisoners leaving/returning to the prison area#the odd relief of dropping pretenses and feeling free again#and then the heaviness that settles over them when they put on their fake bandages and torn uniforms and walk back in#but movie night my beloved!!!#not in a limiting gender role sort of way but i think with all the femininity that was forced on haruka he has a great time with the boys#all that fashion advice was Not heeded when choosing outfits for backdraft and triage#the Dad Fit was all shidous idea#(<- says this but i love the backdraft look jsyk)#i feel like t2 movie night would be much more chaotic since they were involved for a lot so they can get rowdier#then again some things were left secretive -- they never got to meet shidous kids and most didnt watch tear drop filming#and some of the post-filming effects probably turned out cooler than they were expecting#lights camera sing your sins#ask
18 notes · View notes
brendathedoodler · 2 years ago
Text
From @mstormcloud’s tags on this post!
Tumblr media
YEAH it wasn’t happy fun times for Sky
The timeline of events goes a bit differently for Sky than OG Warriors, as Sun doesn’t disappear to become Sheik until after the first big confrontation with Cia, where she scarred Sky and Sun both.
Cia had blasted away Sky’s companions with her magic, knocked them away and thrown them to the ground. Not that they really mattered to her anyway; she only had eyes for Sky.
She’d gone to try and hold his hand, but grabbed his arm when he tried to pull away. She’d professed her love to him, announced her devotion.
Cia had wanted it to be amazing. She’d wanted to show him all she’d done for him, but instead he saw her love for what it really was: obsession.
He’d rejected her, of course, and she’d lashed out at both him and Sun. Him for not seeing the beauty in what she’d done (searing her handprint into his arm, so that he’d be forever marked and branded by her alone), and Sun for being in the way of what she could’ve had (slashing a mark across her face so that there’d be a reminder every time he looked).
Sky defeated her, of course, and he hardly left Sun’s side while she recovered. Magic potions weren’t enough to stop it from scarring, and neither got out of the battle unscathed.
Sky hid his own scar from her at first. It wasn’t anything like hers, after all. His was easily hidden under a sleeve, while hers was right across her face for all to see. Cia had accomplished one thing: he *did* think of her when he looked at Sun’s face.
Sky’s own scar is something he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like looking at it, and he doesn’t like thinking about it.
He feels like he’s been branded, and the mere idea makes his skin crawl. How dare she leave a mark on him? It feels wrong to be marked by someone else when his own beloved has no such claim on him (even if he knows that she’d never want that).
He and Sun eventually have a heart to heart about it once the war is over. She starts doing little things, leaving little marks of her own. She paints his nails, brushes his hair, makes little earrings for him, and she made him a new cloak, one he wears everywhere. They’re gifts from the person he loves, and being able to choose whether or not to carry them everywhere means a lot more than he can express. He can’t remove the scar like he takes off his sailcloth, but keeping the sailcloth on his person so often means far more than having the scar he can’t get rid of.
Given time, Sky would heal from it. The scar would remain but slowly the associations would fade. He’d stop being so afraid to show it, he wouldn’t flinch whenever someone touches his arm, and that overwhelming shame whenever he looks at it would dull. Unfortunately, he’s had a mere 3 months to rest before his next adventure, so he’s nowhere near healed by the time he meets the others.
21 notes · View notes
flowerflamestars · 2 years ago
Text
Timeloop au snippet
Lucien had always been quick, but in his own territory, rattled to the point of a constant knives edge since Feyre’s kidnapping, Tamlin was quicker. Snapping the door shut, wards of the house slamming down, containing them all in one place.   “Lucien.”   Nesta’s hand slid beneath his shirt, gesture hidden, aligned to the scarred skin of his back in silent apology.   “Tam,” Lucien swallowed. “I can explain.”   Flowers blooming in his eyes- a lord of becoming, a lord of mad folly, Lucien’s friend of centuries, torn apart trying to rescue the woman he loved from what he knew to be only one of the most feared creatures in Prythian.   Slowly, Tamlin sank back against the door, furious expression muddling into a muted horror.   Both palms pressed over his eyes, he said, in a gentle sort of voice Lucien had frankly forgotten he was even capable of. “You’re her sister. The one she wrote to.”   “Yes.” Steel in the word, but also- Nesta slid out from behind him in exaggerated human slowness, coming back onto her feet to raise her chin in what read, to faery eyes, as warning. “And I wrote back. Lucien answered.”   Unreadable, Tamlin dropped his hands to stare at her. “Did he?” “Tam”- “My sister loves you,” Nesta said, right over Lucien. “So much so we let her go again, because she could not bare a world where she had not tried to save you. I couldn’t reach out, not to you, not after all that happened to her. But I couldn’t stand not knowing if she was alright.”   With his real guilt, Lucien fell into his role.   “They deserved to know,” Lucien told him, quiet, unable to stop himself from smiling, just a little, at her unwavering expression.   Tamlin caught it. Of course he did- Lucien was an excellent liar, but he wasn’t even trying.   “And now,” he said, tipping his head between them, “You”-   “Yes.” Nesta said.   The High Lord of Spring heaved a sigh, scent of roses rising through the air. Tired, stricken- but then he smiled. “You cannot be blamed for that.”
24 notes · View notes
south-sea · 2 years ago
Text
i don't talk a lot about the whole world-hopping aspect of second chance au because i figure it's one of those details that are a little eyeroll-worthy in that it's just so self-indulgent/out there, but let's do it today anyway
(this one got a bit longer than average so under the cut it goes)
literally one of the first things that happens after metal's repaired is that he's given this ability. his new company is real big on giving people, coming from situations like his, freedom.
the way the ability's normally supposed to work is that early on, it drains a moderate amount of energy and takes a while to "recharge", but is supposed to gradually get easier the more you use it. so for months he just tricks other people with the same ability to take him places instead. sure, he can do it himself, but why expend the effort when there are people offering to hop him themselves? he's not going to say no. just look at him, he's just a little guy, this shouldn't be his responsibility. (let it be said metal can be a manipulative little bastard, but sometimes he doesn't even need to be.) he pretty much only ever uses the ability himself to get home.
his caretaker eventually catches onto this, and later upgrades it to work a bit more like chaos control, so it's less of an energy drain/doesn't have such a significant cooldown period. it's definitely cheating, and is only possible because he's a machine, but both he and his caretaker are not ones to play by the rules and intentionally handicap themselves. if there's a way to make something more efficient, they will do it.
and yet, despite this total and absolute freedom, metal still doesn't really like to go places alone. early on he did, and at one point this led to stripping one world of its copper to bring to another world that buys it at an extremely inflated rate, because someone made the mistake of teaching him about the basic gist of money/capitalism, but not economy. this led to two outcomes: he has more currency than one little robot hedgehog could ever need (and has nothing to use it on), and the realization this is all so pointless.
he might now occasionally take commissions to seek out and gather information on specific worlds for other people, and that's good enough incentive to go somewhere alone, but he doesn't explore just to explore. he'd much rather tag along with someone else.
i think some part of it too is that he just likes having the option available. it's his idea of rapport-building and getting to know someone. you can learn a lot about a person based on what their favorite place is to visit, as far as he's concerned. one of the first things he practically demands of new people who he has even a little appreciation for is "show me to places you like". they'll (usually) take him to a variety of worlds, he adds them to his database, and then just... doesn't really do anything with the worlds after that.
he cannot see the artistic value in things, so "pretty scenery" doesn't mean anything to him. he approaches things in a purely scientific way. really the only thing he does when arriving at a new place is: make a profile for it, record atmospheric data, log other unique aspects of it, link the world to whoever introduced him to it to add to that person's profile too, and then move on.
and then there's shadow.
shadow, who is unable to return to his timeline's earth, all related timelines, and feels like going to a completely unaffiliated-timeline's earth would be wrong, is "limited" to the rest of the multiverse in every other direction. he takes full advantage of it.
during his down-time/between testing, wandering around different worlds and whatnot is definitely his main source of entertainment. when he gets recommendations from others, he explores the places on his own time, and more for the sights/experiences. some part of him is a little guilty/haunted by the fact he's unable to see earth like he's "supposed" to, so in a way, visiting other places is almost like supplementing what he could've/should've/would've been spending his time on if he hadn't kicked the bucket the first time.
very, very early on, before he had gotten his bearings and realized he could lowkey donate himself to science for a cure, he had been introduced to photography. for a while (and still, sometimes), that's what he did. he'd take photos of places and scenery--anything he thought maria would like, and one hobby turned into another.
the thing about shadow is he thinks he doesn't have any hobbies, but the reality is he finds and rotates through them at a fair pace. world-hopping is at the core of it, and fuels all the other ones: exploration, photography/scrapbooking, trying new foods, and generally just experiencing all the new things he possibly can, to name a few.
(on a less serious note, it's also a fun excuse to throw the boys into existing-media worlds just for fun, like shadow ending up in the Sky world and getting himself a cloak or two, or the current season's ultimate gift that's basically a light-dimming projector. so add "collecting various interesting objects" to his hobby list.
you could hand shadow a piece of driftwood and he'd still proudly keep it--display it somewhere in his home, even--because here is a thing that has history. everything is new to him. he wouldn't just see "a piece of wood", he would research it and find out it's something that's been altered by its time in water, and that makes it special.
so shadow's world-hopping hobby is somehow at its core very similar to metal's habit of compiling libraries worth of data on every person he meets or place he visits. they both just want to Learn in their own ways, but while shadow's content to do so on his own, metal would prefer to travel with him/someone else, so it is not central to his own enjoyment. his enjoyment comes from the people he's with, not the places they're in.)
5 notes · View notes
sourtomatola · 24 days ago
Text
Oh my gosh this is phenominal!!! I've spent the last 10 minutes just zooming in on this and admiring it, it's so perfect for halloween!! I love the artistic liberties you took, I can't stop looking at this!!
His hands are beautiful!! The horns, the tree, the shading, ✨️ THE ABS!!! ✨️
This is so gorgeous I think it's my new desktop background thank you so much!!!!!
Tumblr media
@sourtomatola I'm your Secret Skeleton! Happy Halloween!!!
I picked something from your Thing On Your Swing AU, Eclipse's introduction scene where he comes crawling out of the ground like some kind of hell born demon spawn seemed perfect for Halloween. He's delightfully creepy and unhinged <3 And I know that the tree is supposed to be a pine tree but I took some artistic license with it because I wanted to draw something more gnarly and twisted for the ✨aesthetic✨
I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun working on this ^__^
94 notes · View notes
sahkuna · 2 months ago
Text
LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU
Tumblr media
synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.
content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, office au, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sex??? (it's in an office), pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write
word count: 6.7K+ holay molay...
a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-
Tumblr media
“I’ll miss you.”
You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under. 
Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to finish on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself. 
You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.
Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”
“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”
When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.
“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.
Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom. 
Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.
“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!” 
You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful gaze above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.
Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?
You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”
Pity denied.
Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.
When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.
“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”
While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…
“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.
Ah, right.
After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.
Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.
Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out the paperwork, mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.
To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement. 
Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver. 
“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off. 
“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.” 
There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means. 
However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.
Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours, but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.
“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?”
Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.
But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”
“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”
With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes to not drift down his body and toward his lap.
Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him. 
“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”
Your heart stutters in your chest at his question. 
Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him. 
Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”
He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.” 
You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant. 
Keep it professional.
“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.
Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.
He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—
“Satoru!” you hiss.
Shit.
Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.
Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.
Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”
You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”
Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that. 
“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally. 
“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”
The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”
The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he asks, “Yeah?”
You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.
Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”
“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.
You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.
“Yes?”
“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”
Tumblr media
As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.
Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.
But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either. 
Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown. 
When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.
You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.
But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.
It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.
You both wonder when that’ll be.
“This is crazy.”
You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).
“What is?” you ask.
Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space. 
“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”
Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer. 
“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.” 
Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.
You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”
“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”
And speak of the devil… 
Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.
“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”
“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot. 
He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”
Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”
Huh?
What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.
White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question. 
“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”
Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.
Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”
“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.
“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.
You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”
Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.
“We do?”
“Since when?”
Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.
“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.
“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.
If only she knew how true that statement would be.
Tumblr media
Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone. 
Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.
If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.
But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.
Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric. 
Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.
Game fucking over.
Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.
But this?
You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.
Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.
Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.
“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.
Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.
“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor. 
Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. 
There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.
It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”
Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you. 
The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.
The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.
“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy.  “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!” 
Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.
Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?” 
Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”
“Why not?”
You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake! 
You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—
Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”
You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake. 
It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.
“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”
You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.
“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit. 
And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation. 
You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.
“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”
With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.
“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?” 
“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true. 
Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”
“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.
Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.
Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”
You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.
You could die and go to heaven right now.
Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.
“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other. 
Oh! You didn’t know it could do that. 
“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.
“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”
When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.
With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.
You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.
So much for wanting to see you.
“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.
Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.
It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.
Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.
“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”
If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.
But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.
You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.
“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.
Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.
Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.
When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.
There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.
He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.
So, he does.
His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back. 
“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.
“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”
You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.” 
Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”
Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”
“Are you sure?” 
 Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”
Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.
“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock. 
Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.
With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.
“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.
You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—” 
The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile. 
“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.
Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.
With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”
You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away. 
Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”
When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.  
But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.
“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.
Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.
“What hap—”
“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast. 
From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.
“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”
Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.
“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”
“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”
You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header. 
Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.
“Ah! Wait—”
Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.
Until it's not?
The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.
“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”
She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features. 
If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.
But what was there to be mortified over?  
“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”
Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.
Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—
That’s until you notice that some of the pages are sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.
Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers. 
Oh no.
“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?!  “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”
Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.
“Just saying!”
FIN
Tumblr media
i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!
9K notes · View notes
sourtomatola · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Dream eater Puppet!
35 notes · View notes
laymedowntorest · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Trying to beat back my hate of things not turning out right by doodling and hoping something comes out good
Idk why stinky fae boy there but I just wanted to fill the scene and also got an itch to draw the two again! Idk canonically why he's there! Maybe to talk about extended car warranty! I will be cringe for no reason!
Enjoy nonetheless despite that!
Dark fae Eclipse @sourtomatola
31 notes · View notes
tonycries · 9 months ago
Text
Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.
Tumblr media
Synopsis. He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, wild west! AU, cowboy! Satoru, mayor’s daughter! Reader, Satoru is SO DOWN BAD, angst, kinda slowburn, friends-to-lovers, bartender! Nanami, cunnilingus, oral sex (female + male receiving), unprotected sex, gun violence, pet names (m’lady, my love, + others), tumbleweed bandits, reader and Satoru are both going through stuff, Gege cameo, swearing, author’s daddy issues come out.
Word count. 12.1k (I’m scared)
A/N. You know how hard it was to make this all cowboy-y. Anyway that’s off the bucket list.
Art by @_3aem on X.
Tumblr media
“So, you itchin’ for a beating from me or yer’ wife?”
Glowering down at the drunk old pervert as he waddled away in fear, you sigh as you dust down your heavy skirts. Typical. The sun beats down on your face as you look up at that familiar faded banner.
Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon
The only bar in your little town of Rustcliffe, and by default the only one around for miles. You hated this place - not the saloon, no, the handsome bartender there was always a sweetheart. But at some point, the comfort of your quaint old town had become too comfortable.
But that’s a story for another time. Right now, you were here to drag your father back home - per usual. 
Rolling your eyes at the cacophony of drunken voices carrying from inside, you step through the dust-bitten swinging doors. 
What hits you first is the stench of cheap alcohol, and then the inebriated camaraderie of the men around you. In the dim lighting of the saloon, you squeeze through the crowded tables and make your way to the bar. 
Not a hair out of place, as usual, Nanami lights up when he spots you. “Well, it’s been a while. Here for the mayor again?” he speaks over the boisterous laughs around you. 
You flash him a smile, “Yeah, you know my father. Fraternizin’ with the voters and all that.” you wave off your father’s excuse to come down here. 
“Certainly takes his job very seriously.” Nanami chuckles, “You’ll find him over by the window, in the back.” he points. 
Tipping your head in thanks, you walk the treacherous track to take your animated father home. When you come in view of his table, you find that he wasn’t alone. Damn, it was always harder to convince him to go when with other people.
You know your father has spotted you by his lively laugh and gleeful shouts, “Ah, my daughter! My beautiful daughter! Whatcha doin’ here? Come come! There’s someone I wan’ introduce you to.” 
A smile slips out unintentionally at his almost-endearing pride. You mentally prepare yourself to say some awkward hellos to some of your father’s old drinking buddies before dragging him home. 
Upon reaching your father, he immediately pulls you into a drunken embrace, wrapping his slightly rocky arm around your shoulders. “This is the daughter I was telling ya about! Prettiest girl in town! Hell, maybe even the country, knowin’ ma girl.” he prattles. 
In his jovial state, he abruptly turns to face whoever he was drinking with, unsteady on his two feet. Probably another old geezer, you assume not taking your eyes off your father until you could make sure he won’t collapse on the bar floor for the third time this month.
Finally, you look up. 
Your eyes meet blue. 
Blue, blue summer skies. 
To Satoru, you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you menacingly threatening that creep outside through the window, every word the mayor said went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the other. Too entranced. 
And when he introduced you as his daughter? Shit, it might just be fate.
“C’mon now boy! Cat got yer’ tongue? What happened to that sharp mouth of yours?”
The booming voice of your father snaps Satoru out of his captivation. Damn, he must’ve been staring for too long. 
Mentally praying you weren’t spooked by his speechlessness, he finally speaks, voice slightly shaky at your presence, “Ah- Good day m’lady. Apologies for my impoliteness, the name’s Satoru Gojo.” he tips his crisp white hat. Gently grasping your hand in his, he places a delicate kiss, looking up at you as he awaits your response.
You gaze, slightly awe-struck, at his ethereally beautiful white locks and the impish grin from where he held your hand. His lips were so soft.
“Oh!” you startle at the clap of your father’s hand on your shoulder. Shit, you were definitely staring too long.  Rushing to introduce yourself, you quickly interject a “Nice to meet you, Satoru” before your father starts leading the conversation once more.
“Satoru here is a traveler, arrived jus’ today! Told him people like us could never, I mean imagine, right?” he slurs. 
Your ears perk up at this piece of information, “Oh? Are you really a traveler, Satoru? How admirable.” you gush, previous bashfulness forgotten. Was that…a blush spreading across his face? Couldn’t be - your town's whiskey was known to give people rosy cheeks on occasion.
“Thank you, m’lady. It’s nothing special really, jus’ staying here a while.” he barely gets the words out before you father bellows a tangent - “Don’ be shy, boy! How wondrous traveling is, kids these days could use some toughening up!”
Both of you rush to catch your father as he sways with a passion seen only during election rallies. It takes the two of you to steady the man. As he continues babbling half-lucidly, you cock your head sweetly at Satoru, “Help me take him outside?” 
Satoru thinks his knees might give out then and there.
The air is chilly by the time the three of you step outside, sun making its way below the horizon. Despite your father’s protests that he can ride home on his own, he knocks out as soon as Satoru gracefully mounts him on his horse. Carefully saddling behind him, you try to make sure your father doesn’t fall off of Satoru’s beautiful white Quarter horse.
“You really don’t have to escort us home, Satoru. My ol’ man wouldn’t even feel it if he fell, I swear.” you insist as Satoru holds onto the reins from the ground, feeling bad for bothering him.
“It’s no trouble. After all, Gege seems to like him very much, hm?” Satoru remarks as he turns to his stallion, who attempts to bite him in response, “Can’t say the same for myself.”
“Hmm, how can I be sure yer’ not a serial killer?” you tease, reveling in the sharp laugh it draws from him.
“You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me, m’lady.” he hums, eyes sparkling with mirth. There’s a lull in the conversation as Satoru pulls on the reins to start walking you down the road, the rhythmic clip-clop! of the horse filling the still air.
“So you travel?”
“This is a nice town.”
Both of you speak at once, anxious to fill the silence, only to sputter self-consciously.
“You can-”
“No no, it’s only customary for a lady to go first.” he hums, looking up at you. 
“Tell me stories of your travels.” you breathe out, eager for any crumb of escape from your little town. 
As you made your way home to the sprawling family ranch, the night adorned itself with twinkling stars that matched the mischievous glint in Satoru’s eyes as he told you bizarre tales from his life on the road. 
“IN MY DEFENSE, it was dark an’ that tumbleweed was shaped suspiciously like a lowly bandit. Hey- don’t laugh- it was a very heated standoff!” Satoru exclaims animatedly as you cackle. 
“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Even bandits woulda run away from your clownery.” delighted at the way the moonlight illuminates the blush that tinges his ears. 
Making a fool of himself, Satoru’s stories have you laughing until your cheeks hurt, wishing you could experience them too. You almost forget about your father’s deafening snores and the bite of the wind. 
But Satoru does not. Brows furrowing as he catches your slight shiver, he mentally berates himself for forgetting his manners. How dare he let a lady suffer the cold while he still had his fuckin’ coat! What a sorry excuse for a cowboy, this is worse than that time he accidentally lassoed a rattlesnake.
Hastily shrugging his coat off, he passes it to you with a sheepish smile on his face. 
Face heating up against the cold draft, you breathe in the smell of pine, amber, and something so Satoru. Clearly not as affected as you are, Satoru launches back into his stories.
If Satoru thought his knees were going to give out before then he knows they’re about to now. He aims to keep his eyes steadfast on the road as he recalls his endeavors, because he’s aware that even one glance at you all wrapped up in his coat wouldn’t be too good for him.
Making out the warm lights in the distance, his heart falls as he realizes his time with you is drawing to an end. You seem to share similar sentiments, as you sigh silently.
Once again, a silence falls upon you two (well, three if your slumbering father counted) - but this time, it was serene. You could almost drift to sleep if it wasn’t for your mother’s frantic calls for you from the front porch. 
“Oh, darlin’, I was so worried! I didn’t think it would be so late out!” she frets as Satoru helps you get down from his horse. Hands on your waist searing into your skin. 
Clearly awoken due to the commotion, your dad stumbles his way down and towards your red brick villa. 
“Ah, honey! I’m home…somehow…you know, I met the most interesting fella Something-toru. A wanderer, real interesting.” turning comically to Satoru, he exclaims in delight “Something-toru! How didya get ‘ere?” 
Stifling his laughs, Satoru backs away, claiming he had to leave before your father roped him into more rounds of drinks. Which clearly didn’t work because your mother approaches him, “Stay, Satoru, stay! Can’t have you sleepin’ underneath some tree when you escorted our darling daughter all the way out here.”
Any refusals are immediately blocked out by your very inebriated father yelling out in agreement, claiming he wanted to listen to more of Satoru’s “funny lil’ stories”. Your parents head inside - well, more like your mother heads inside with your father in tow - having taken his speechlessness for agreement.
As you follow, you turn to Satoru, a strange part of you gleeful at the fact you won’t have to part with him for now. “We’ve got an extra room, and it’s got yer’ name on it. The stablehand will stall Gege, c’mon, it’ll be a lot better than the ground.” you grin.
“Hey! The ground can be very comfortable.” Satoru declares defensively, yet follows you inside anyway.
It’s only rushed goodbyes and promises to talk tomorrow morning as the housemaids fuss around Satoru. “Goodnight m’lady.” he’d winked as your head housekeeper clutched her pearls at his dirty boots on her recently polished hardwood floors.
That night, as you lay in your childhood bed, you realize that you still have Satoru’s coat on. Whether from his coat or something else entirely that you did not want to explore, you felt so warm inside.
---
Morning dawns with the symphony of the Western meadowlark that nudges you gently awake - usually. Today, it’s abruptly shattered as the door bursts open and someone barges into your room. Judging by the thud of hefty boots, you knew very well who it was. 
“Rise n’ shine, m’lady!” Satoru’s voice - way too cheerful for six in the morning - chirps out. 
It’s been a few days since Satoru has been staying with you. Now more a friend than a guest, you expect he’s come to wake you up for a morning ride with Gege, watching the sun rise as you exchange silly banter. But it’s so early…
“What do you want, Something-toru.” you grumble out from in-between your comfy covers. You secretly delight at his whines of “How dare you not remember my name, I even told you about the rattlesnake lasso!” 
The warmth of your bed and the melody of Satoru’s voice has you sluggishly falling back asleep - that’s before he promptly sits on your bed. The force of it bouncing you both, making you sit up with a laugh.
Satoru was on your bed.
Satoru was on your bed. Shit, after what your father told him this morning, he wouldn’t blame you if you kicked him out with a punch to his pretty nose right this second. Mentally slapping himself a million times over, he hurriedly gets out the reason he was sent in to wake you up in the first place, “Ah- Um, the mayor is meeting with…someone important, wanted you to come down and meet him. Well, if tha’s all then I’ll be going, Gege won’t brush himself, sadly.”
And before you could get another word out, he’s swiftly out the door. 
Satoru was on your bed. Your cheeks slightly heat up as you realize you didn’t mind?
His words ring in your ears as you get ready for the day - if it was someone important, then you might as well dress to impress. Impress someone else too. Shaking off these strange thoughts from your mind, you make your way downstairs, nose wrinkling at the smell of tobacco that greets you.
You’ve always hated the stench of the overpriced tobacco your father brings out to impress guests. “There she is! My daughter!” your father smiles, beckoning you over. “There’s someone who’s here to see you.” 
Grimacing at the cloud of smoke, you take a seat on the plush sofa beside your father. He gestures at the man seated in front of him, “This here is Naoya.”
Despite his sharply handsome features, you shift uncomfortably at the way he watches you like a predator appraising his prey, eyes following your every movement. Apparently approving of what he saw, his lips curl into a smirk, “Your future husband.” he says saccharinely sweet.
What the fuck?
“Father?” you panickedly turn to him for answers, voice strained at your attempt to keep it even. But your father merely guffaws out a laugh, “Well well, nothing confirmed just yet. But you know with the way things are going with the re-election, might as well get to know a suitor and...” his voice trails off as he takes another puff of his cigar. 
“My apologies sir, I refuse.” you drone out, looking straight at Naoya. You don’t miss the way his smirk grows leeringly as he mutters “You don’t have too much of a say in this matter, sweetcheeks.”  The audacity.
Apparently your father doesn’t hear, a more grave expression taking over his face, “Now I’ve talked with Naoya, you’re of marriageable age. And as young as I feel, I won’t be around forever. You need someone to take care of you, dear. We’ve talked about this.” 
Tears prick at your eyes as you abruptly stand up, disturbing the smoke around you. “I can take care of myself.” you spit out venomously, storming your way to the heavy front door in an attempt to run away from this situation.
In the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, Naoya watches in amusement as you stomp out of the room. Hilarious, the feisty ones were always the best. 
Over the mayor’s ramble of apologies, he grins “No don’t worry about that. She’ll be mine either way.”
The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as you slam it shut, echoing your frustration. The brisk air is a temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.
“Talked about this” your ass. Every conversation - if you can even call them that - was a heated warning about being married off before you end up a spinster. You couldn’t care less about ending up alone if it didn’t mean living life with a man that talked to you like that.
Your thoughts block out the crunch of the gravel beneath your boots as your feet subconsciously lead you to the stables, where you used to play hide-and-seek as a kid. More recently, though, it has become an escape from conversations like these. 
Approaching its familiar wooden doors, you catch a glimpse of Satoru, back turned and meticulously grooming Gege.
Sensing your presence, he turns with an easy smile that quickly fades as he notices the deep furrow of your brows. “Hey there, m’lady. Everything alrigh’?” cerulean eyes flit across your face worriedly.
“Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just got introduced to my absolute asshat of a future husband.” as if Satoru’s concerned expression makes something in you snap, the words tumble out along with your tears.
“I don’t even- The way he looked at me- Can you even believe?”
Satoru was about to rip apart whoever this load of horse manure was that made tears streak down your pretty face. Throwing his brush down - which Gege didn’t quite appreciate - he quickly envelopes you in his arms, letting you muffle your sobs.
“Hey hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll work something out. I promise, m’lady.” he consoles. 
Eventually, as your cries die down, you look up to see the rising sun casting a soft glow on Satoru’s features, illuminating the sincerity in his gaze.
The determined glint in his eyes emboldens you, “Yer’ right, I will not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Naoya. I’m not anyone’s property.”
A subtle warmth is present in Satoru’s gaze as he utters, “Tha’s my girl.” before reeling back and backtracking immediately, “Ah! I mean- good for you m’lady. Naoya ain’t the one. Anyway, tell me about this ‘asshat’.”
You raise a brow teasingly at his rapid change of demeanor, before plopping down on the hay, launching into your first impression of Naoya and why the rumors downtown of him making babies cry were probably true. 
The sun shines high in the sky as you lay there in peaceful silence, only to be broken by the doubt weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m scared.” you admit.
Satoru turns from his place beside you from the hay, “It’s alright, you got Gege and myself beside you. If Naoya ain’t the one then he ain’t the one.” 
Your eyes meet his twinkling gaze, “Yeah, he’s not the one.”
The air grows charged with something unspoken as the silence stretches out. Satoru can feel the tips of his ears burning at your words - stop it Satoru, she didn’t mean anything by it. As always, he retreats into humor to break the crackling silence. 
“I’d help you hide the body, y’know. Then you can have a shotgun wedding with whoever you want to share your days with.”
“Oh yeah? What if he turns out just like that asshat?” you challenge. 
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away with me. Fightin’ tumbleweeds together.” Satoru makes light of the situation, in an attempt to etch that beautiful smile on your face once more. It works, as you throw your head back and laugh.
“Yeah, I’d love that.” you get out in-between giggles. 
If someone looked at you like Satoru did, you probably wouldn’t mind marrying them. A voice whispers in the back of your mind, sending your brows furrowing once again.
Meanwhile, Satoru finally had a name for your future not-husband - Naoya.
Urgently getting up and removing the hay stuck to your clothes once you hear your housemaids calling for you, you leave Satoru with a grateful smile that had him swooning out loud immediately after the stable door shut - to the very visible judgment of Gege.
It felt like a knife in his chest when the mayor tittered secretly to him about your future husband this morning, thoughts of you getting married plaguing his mind all morning. Well, if you were happy then it’s fine, isn’t it? 
He was halfway through imagining you in a beautiful dress of white when you’d arrived with a cloudy expression covering your gorgeous features. If Satoru had thought hearing about your fiancé was like being stabbed, then the despair on your face made him feel like he was completely cleaved in half. 
You deserve someone that deserves you. Probably not him. Certainly not Naoya.
Walking back to the house to fetch his riding gloves, he’s lost in the thoughts of standing off against a faceless man calling himself your husband when he bumps into somebody.
“My apolog- Asshat?” Satoru blurts out at the man testily raising a brow at him.
“Excuse you, barn boy?” he fumes, at the nickname that slips by. Ah, he’s done it now. Lips tweaking into a forced smile, Satoru grits out, “Ah, apologies, sir. Cowboy tendencies.”
The air is tense as Naoya mutters, “Keep those to yourself.” He moves to walk past Satoru, before stopping close enough to utter words meant for only him to hear, “And stay away from my future bride. I saw the hay on her skirt, yer’ insane to think you’d have a chance, barn boy. Go back to wanderin’ around.”
Satoru stands rooted to the spot as Naoya walks off, too many emotions he can’t name whirling inside him. That morning, he stalks off for his longest ride since arriving at Rustcliffe - not coming back with Gege until well after midnight. 
---
To Satoru, long rides always mean interesting dreams. Right now he was in a tap-dancing competition against a one-eyed alligator who looked suspiciously like your father. It’s a shame - he was winning too - that the competition is suddenly crashed by an angel calling for him. 
“Satoru…Satoru!” 
An angel that sounded like…you?
“Satoru if you don’t wake up I’m feedin’ your boots to Gege.”
His eyes shoot open, yet his sleep-addled brain still struggles to process you standing over his bed, soft hands shaking his bare shoulders lightly. “Angel?” he rasps out. 
You huff out a laugh, “No, I’m here to drag you to hell - or close enough at least.”
Face burning at already making a fool of himself before noon, he sits up in bed, blanket sliding off to reveal his toned upper-half.
Shit, it should be illegal to casually have a body like that. 
Trying your best to avert your eyes from the dips and curves of his sculpted body, you continue, “My father’s holdin’ Rustcliffe’s annual Harvest Hoedown in a few weeks, the whole town’s gonna be there. You made it just in time for some dancing lessons.”
“What makes you think I need dancing lessons?” Satoru raises a brow playfully. You take a brief moment to admire the way his sleep-tousled hair curtains his alluring eyes, before replying in an ominous tone, “I need dancing lessons.”
Wow, you really did need dancing lessons, Satoru notes as he stifles a laugh when you step on the poor instructor’s foot for the fifth time this afternoon. 
Locked in the stuffy studio, he recalls the way your father demanded that you not step one foot outside until you mastered the upbeat waltz for the hoedown - putting Satoru in charge of making sure you don’t slip away. “It’s stupid really, he’s never had a problem with me sitting out before. All because that asshat will be there…” you’d muttered hotly on the way.
Ah yes, that asshat. Sleep weighs heavily on Satoru’s eyes from riding all night long, yet his words still ring painfully in his ears. Who did he even think he was to have a chance with you? 
Well, it’s alright, Satoru will be out of this town in a few months, and you’ll marry some man of your choice that could give you everything you could ever want.
The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his overthinking tirade is the abrupt pause of the music and the heavy sigh the dance instructor lets out - clearly having taken a break for his own sake rather than yours. You shuffle sheepishly across the polished floor to where Satoru stands, “Was it worse than you thought?” you grimace.
“Well, you always do find a way to surprise me, m’lady” he teases, chuckling at your dramatic groan. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the instructor rushing outside for a smoke. Hopefully not because of your dancing…
You scoff in defense as Satoru’s cackles grow louder - having thought the same thing. “Well, I’m sure the great Something-toru is much better on his feet.”
Instead of retorting, he steps one heavy boot onto the waxy dance floor, holding out a hand expectantly. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”
“But, there’s no music?” you raise a brow, yet you place your hand in his much larger ones. Soft, his hands were surprisingly soft. And so warm.
“Did I mention I was a great singer too?” he grins, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer. 
Shit, it was way too hot to be cooped up in a dance studio. Or maybe it was just Satoru’s hand around your waist, making your skin burn through your heavy skirts. They flow around you as he glides you gently across the floor. 
You train your eyes steadily on your feet - partly out of necessity, and partly out of fear of meeting Satoru’s intense gaze.
The only sounds filling the small studio were the squeaks of your boots and Satoru’s soft humming of a nonexistent tune. It was beautiful, his voice. It reminded you of calm summer days. 
“Ah- sorry!” you panic as you step on his toe, only for him to pause his melody and huff out a laugh.
“Step on them as much as you want, m’boots are thick.”
You’re sure he meant this only to bate your embarrassment, but something about his words and the warm endearment in his gaze have your cheeks heating up. You focus on your steps in silence as he guides you patiently, tenderly.
Pride grows in your chest as you start stepping on his boots every six steps instead of two. Satoru seems to have noticed too, “Hey! You’ve improved, m’lady.” he whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness in that humid room as you two continue your silent dance. 
Loud clapping from the doorway makes you two jump apart, shattering the serene bubble you’ve found refuge in. “Brilliant! I thought I’d come across my first hopeless case, yet you’ve worked absolute wonders Mr. Satoru!”
Your escape is quick, you urgently drag Satoru out the door before he can be forcibly recruited as a dance teacher. 
You heave out a sigh of relief at your freedom from the treacherous clutches of the dance studio. Merciless sunlight stinging your face, you begin to make your way through the dusty hustle and bustle of Rustcliffe in the afternoon. 
Now, all you had to do was avoid bumping into your father for the rest of the day and you should be fine!
Speed-walking by Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, you’re confused when you’re faced with a few more drunken stares than usual. Surely your new skirt can’t be that flattering?
With a jolt, you realize you’re still grasping Satoru’s warm hand in his. Dropping it as if it burned, your cheeks heat up at the mirth on his features. “Not that I’m complainin,” he grins, “but warn a guy next time you manhandle him. S’not good for the heart, m’lady.”
Rolling your eyes at his joke, you begin pointing out the things to see as you walk the familiar old roads of Rustcliffe, detailing the town gossip.
It really was not good for his heart, Satoru was sure he’ll drop dead very soon one of these days because of you. 
He couldn’t rip his eyes off of you as you animatedly talked about granny Wei wrestling Mrs. Davidson for her secret brownie recipe. 
Shit, he was really getting in too deep.
Night falls fast, a deep shade of blue. 
Saying your goodbyes to Nanami at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon - at a time you knew your father wouldn’t be around - your heart swells as Satoru excitedly rambles about “Good ol’ Nanamin! What a chip off the old block, we became fast friends y’know?”
You didn’t expect your mission to avoid your father to turn into an impromptu Rustcliffe tour. But watching Satoru’s face light up as you told him silly little stories of your childhood, you wouldn’t have changed it one bit. 
Sent off with a cheery “Come back soon deary!”, you’re exhausted by the time you say all your goodbyes to the people of the town.
“You’re loved, y’know?” Satoru speaks up out of nowhere as you steady yourself behind him on the saddle. 
“Hm?” you ask, fatigued from spending the day walking around town. A large hand caresses your cheek to rest your head against his back, tightening your arms around his waist.
Lightly snapping the reins, he repeats, “You’re loved.” 
You drift on his words gently to sleep, the clip-clop! of the horse matching the deafening beat of your heart against your ribcage. If only you could be like this forever.
SLAM! 
You wake up with a start, only to find yourself…hovering? Surely there must be a valid explanation - you really didn’t feel like doing an exorcism right now.
It takes a while of your nonsense to realize you’re being carried by strong arms supporting your back and legs. 
“S-Satoru?” you ask blearily. 
“Shhh, forgive me, m’lady. Didn’t think that damn door would be so loud.” he responds, bed creaking under his weight as he softly sets you down. 
Smiling down at your incoherent mumbles, he whispers softly “It’s alrigh’, you can rest now. Goodnight m’lady.”
Struggling to rip his gaze from your gracefully sleep-addled one, it’s only the thought of someone in the house catching him in this position that makes him stand up. 
A hand - uncharacteristically swift - grasps his wrist, stopping his tip-toeing to the door. “Satoru…” your groggy call of his name sends shivers down his spine. Hesitatingly following the gentle pull of your hand, he kneels beside your bed.
“Yes, m’lady?” he breathes.
You surge forward, sleep hazing the practical side of your mind. Acting on pure instinct, your soft lips meet his. 
Satoru freezes in surprise as a beat passes. One. Two.
He stays in the same position when you flop back onto your pillow, soft snores filling the otherwise pin-drop silence. His lips burn as he brings up a hand to touch them in disbelief, stifling an euphoric laugh.
You startle awake in the middle of the night, after some questionable dream about Satoru carrying you to the bed and you kissing him.  
Imagine. Ha! 
Settling back into where you were carefully tucked into bed, you snuggle the warm coat at your side. 
Wait. Shit.
---
If either of you remembered what happened that night, neither of you mentioned it. 
Oftentimes, you questioned whether it was a dream. The only thing keeping you from fully believing so being the intensity in Satoru’s stare whenever his eyes briefly flickered to your lips and the hasty retreats whenever it seemed like you would bring up the topic. 
But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?
In fear of messing up the comfortable camaraderie you two had, you continued this magnetic dance of normalcy. But honestly could you really consider it “normal” if each gaze was charged with something neither of you could describe?
But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?
You could only imagine the worst.
Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.  Well, probably a bit below heaven, because - ideally - there you’d be his wife and Gege would actually like him. 
It’s alright, even if just for a sleep-hazed second, he was yours. And he didn’t want to hear you apologize for it.
Still riding the euphoria of that brief kiss, he goes about life as usual, sure that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels.
---
“WELCOME ALL TO RUSTCLIFFE ANNUAL HARVEST HOEDOWN! WE GOT HARVEST, WE GOT HORSES, WE GOT SOME HOE- Oh- what? yes, dear that was on my script…” your father’s voice bellows across town from the loudspeaker. 
You breathe in the warm, candy-scented air, fairy lights illuminating the colorful stalls selling everything from candied apples to binoculars (“Spy On Your Neighbors Without Worry!”). 
Place ringing with the bustle and chatter of the town, you think it feels like something out of a picture book.
A warm smile finds its way onto your face, you’ve loved the Harvest Hoedown since you were a kid. Here, you can forget the longing for something more, the rows at home about your looming engagement, and most of all - you can almost forget Satoru.
Ever since that kiss, you’ve found it hard to face him. Sure, the banter and half-joking schemes to murder Naoya are the same. But your heart clenches every time he looks at you with a tender melancholy, losing the words to apologize for taking advantage of his kindness.
“Come come! It’s startin’!” you hear gleefully from your left. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re pulled into a circle of bodies dancing to an upbeat tune. 
Laughter bubbling out of you as you lose yourself in the song, you turn to your right and see…your dance instructor, who is very visibly (and audibly) praying for his feet. Dramatic. You’ve learned a lot recently with Satoru’s help.
Oh, there he is again. For someone that leaves place so swiftly, he sure is set on living permanently in your mind.
Hidden amongst the audience, Satoru cackles at the distress on Mr. Dance Instructor’s face. Little did he know, with a bit of Satoru’s magic you’ve improved - stepping on his toes only once every fifteen steps! 
He was so proud of his girl.
Ah, except you’re not. You’re so much more. And he’s reminded of that every time you averted your eyes from his during dance lessons, the proximity of your bodies doing nothing for how out of reach you felt to him. 
He rips his gaze from you, walking away from the growing crowd. Where was that damn drinks table again?
It’s past twelve as the townsfolk start pairing up for the hoedown couples dancing. You’ve usually sat this one out, not one for the complicated steps nor the intimacy.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your parents waltzing in their own world. How nice it must be. Your supposed asshat of a dance partner was over by the drinks talking with some men, barely looking your way.
Guess the dance lessons were for nothing. Frustrated and slightly tipsy, you move to make your way off the dance floor. 
Suddenly, a large hand blocks your view of the exit. Who the- 
Satoru.
Ears tinged a pretty red, and eyes slightly dazed, he hiccups over the rich music “Would you- dance with me, m’lady?”
Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the way his face flushed your favorite delicate pink - but you slide your hand into his warm one, “I’d be honored to, Satoru.” 
A strong arm pulling you flush against his body, faces only inches apart. His hot breath fans you as Satoru murmurs, “Looked s’beautiful tonight. Best dancer in town I’d say.”
“Only cuz’ of you, Satoru.” you chuckle at his genuine tone as he steers you across the dance floor. Feet in perfect sync, the waltz fades into the background as you look into his tired eyes. 
“Nah, tha’s all you, m’lady. I’m nothing much.” he grins morosely. 
Your brows furrow at his words, clearly something was wrong. And this wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Come with me.” you utter, pulling him along with you to a place you knew he’d love. 
Little ol’ Rustcliffe wasn’t called that for nothing. 
The air is tense, the chatter of crickets fill the silence between you two as you guide him to your haven, hand still tightly in his. It’s a steep walk uphill from the outskirts of town, a place you’d stumbled upon during one dashing attempt to escape from this town as a tween.
“Finally here.” you exhale as you reach your destination, fireflies lighting the way. 
“Hah- If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were tryin’ to murder-” Satoru’s voice dies in his throat as he drinks in the view before him. 
The twinkling lights of the entire town of Rustcliffe reflect in his eyes like constellations. Townsfolk barely discernible from this distance, yet the soft jovial music carried over. It was beautiful. 
Satoru looks at you in awe as you lay down on the ground and point upwards, “Tha’s not all, cowboy.”
Quickly getting on the ground beside you - albeit at a safe distance - his mouth gapes wider at the perfect carpet of stars above him. A celestial version of what he saw below. He turns his head to see you bathed in the moonlight. This place was beautiful.
“Satoru, are we okay?‘ you voice out in concern. He’s taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. You cut off his scramble to make a joke, “I’m serious. Please talk to me.”
He can never win against you.
Heaving out a sigh, “Maybe. Who knows. But whatever it is, please don’t apologize for that kiss, let me have it.”
Now it’s your turn to be surprised, “Let you have it? Satoru, why wouldn’t you have it?” 
“M’lady, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re like fireworks. Captivating and fierce. That kiss was a mistake, and soon enough you’ll find a rich, handsome-”
“I only want you.”
“I’m leaving soon.” he retorts. 
“I only want you.” you repeat, stubbornly.
“I’m leaving m’lady.” he argues.
“No- Satoru-”
“And I’m childish. I’m insecure. I’ll never be able to provide for you the way you deserve.” he plows on, emotion cracking his voice.
“Satoru, I love you.” you breathe out. 
Satoru’s breath catches in his throat, the silence was deafening. “What was that?” he turns, voice quiet with disbelief.
“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, cowboy, but you’re like blue summer skies. And I just so happen to love blue summer skies.” you huff out, finally understanding the reason for his behavior these past few weeks. 
“I don’t expect a huge mansion, or some enormous ranch, or even a cowboy that knows the difference between a lasso and a rattlesnake. I just don’t want anyone else, Satoru.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes.”
“And…you’re sure? Really sure?”
“Yes.”
Silence punctures your conversation once more, broken only by a loud cackle. You turn in disbelief at his change in demeanor, “All cheered up now, Satoru?”
“Why would you have feelings for me? Was it the tumbleweed story that did it for you?” he gets out through laughs. It was contagious, and soon enough you yourself joined him, clutching your stomach.
In the thoughtful silence that follows, you find yourself inching closer to him until your faces are mere centimeters apart. “Blue summer skies and fireworks don’t go too well together.” he breathes. 
“We’ll make something work out, remember?” you hum. 
Your first kiss with Satoru was a sleep-addled mistake. 
The second was when his lips capture yours as if they were the source of life itself. 
Rolling on top of you, he’s careful to not rest his full weight as his lips don’t leave you, tongue caressing yours. Satoru tastes sweet - like hard candy and your father’s bottle of Baileys. Pulling away a hair's breadth, he whispers against your lips, “Let me be yours?”
“You probably say this to all the girls, hm?” you tease him, as revenge for making you wait so long. He softly bites your lips in retaliation, relishing in your drawn-out whine. “Yes, fine. If only you’ll let me be yours.”
Clearly approving of your answer, he continues his dance with your lips. Barely parting to breathe, as if it hurt to leave you.
And it did. A low groan sounds from the back of his throat as Satoru kisses you with the desperation from these past few weeks. His hands stayed firmly cupping your face, as if scared to move elsewhere. Yours, however, was wandering the expanse of his back, and it was driving him insane. 
“M’lady…” he breathes out at the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips, a warning. 
You knew where this was going and you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything so bad. “Satoru, I need you.” you mutter, words punctuated by pecks to his swollen lips. 
Maybe that’s the trigger that sets him off. It’s not long before Satoru is kissing you again. Pinning down your arms with one hand, he rolls his hips into yours. You gasp as you feel the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers. 
He was so big.
Your pussy drips with anticipation and fear of what was about to come. 
Satoru thinks he might be getting whiplash, how was it that an hour ago he was moping in his loneliness and now he’s got you underneath him? Silently thanking whoever was up there, he wanders a hand down your body. Fingers trailing teasingly above where you wanted him the most.
“Tell me what you want, m’lady.” he rasps. Now Satoru is sure he’s getting whiplash when you grind your hips up into his hand, whining “Need you- on me.”
Skirts hastily pushed up, Satoru shuffles so his face is right hovering right above your pulsing core. In the cool moonlight, he can see the way you get wetter at each hot breath on your cunt. “Please Satoru.” 
You were not good for his heart. Surging forward so he’s nose-deep in your pussy, Satoru’s tongue flattens against your swollen folds. His eyes roll to the back of his at your taste. You tasted better than the candy at the hoedown.
Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his trousers. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, keeping a firm grip on his soft locks. Using him.
Shit, if this was your reaction to him teasing you…
Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt  fill the night air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a merciless rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right. 
Thumb harshly circling your clit, Satoru thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. “You taste s’good. So perfect for me, m’lady.” his voice sends vibrations to your pussy that have you feeling your heartbeat banging in two places.
“Hngh- Satoru, don’ stop!” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so sinfully. Air was overrated - Satoru Gojo, famously daring traveler and devilishly handsome, dies here between your legs. He wouldn’t even mind.
“Cum in my mouth, m’lady. Please.” he begs, voice muffled by your dripping cunt. He locks eyes with your fucked out ones as he pulls you by the thighs impossibly closer to him. He never wanted to part.
The stimulation of his voice in addition to his fingers and tongue becomes too much. “Satoru! Hah-  M’ gonna cum-”
Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Satoru’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse of your pulsing pussy, groaning as he laps up your juices - your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth. 
He was so greedy for you. Shit, this is so much better than he’s imagined every night he’s fucked his fist in that lonely room.
As both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the chattering song of crickets and distant music from the Harvest Hoedown fill the air once more. Satoru looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more. 
You’d felt his rock-hard length. And you wanted it now.
“Satoru. let me feel you in my mouth, please.” you murmur. Kneeling before him, you look up at him with eager eyes. At his slow nod, you give an experimental squeeze to the large imprint of his cock, thighs rubbing together at Satoru’s drawn-out hiss. 
“Oh, m’lady. You drive me insane.” he groans. 
Cursing the heavy trousers that cowboys wear, you fumble it down his legs. Muscles, creamy thighs come into your view, making your mouth water. 
In the dim lighting, you see the precum drip down Satoru’s flushed cock. The prominent vein down his side glistens prominently. Shit, he’d never fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. But you wanted it so bad.
Satoru’s heavy breaths sound in the still air as your bruised lips inch closer to his throbbing cock. A deep breath, and you spit on his blushing head, saliva dripping down the side of his length and to where you gently grasped his base. 
It was filthy, it was debauched. You absolutely loved it.
Satoru lets out a strangled moan as you flatten your tongue and take his tip into your mouth, sucking gently. He bucks his hips into your mouth as you run your tongue along his sensitive slit “Shit- Sorry, m’lady. You’re just hah- too good.”
Popping off his aching cock, you press kisses to the side of his length. He groans lowly at the vibrations as you speak about something that has been on your mind for a while now, “Satoru, don’t you think we’re past formalities now?”
“Well, I could call you my goddess?” he smiles. “Or my angel? Or-” Satoru chokes on his words as you take him fully into your mouth - partly because you needed him to shut up, and partly because you cunt ached with need.
“Sh-shit. Jus’ like that.” he rasps as you suck him at a dizzying pace. Precum drips down the side of your mouth as you take him in deeper - nose meeting the snowy white hair on his pelvis.
Your mouth burns at the stretch, his hips grinding lightly into your mouth to meet each bob of your head. Your pussy drips once more at how desperate Satoru was.
His mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you move to take his tight balls into your mouth. You admire the dazed look in his darkened eyes. “Oh god- I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum in your mouth, m’lady.” he murmurs, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue your ruthless pace.
As soon as your lips are around his cock once more, Satoru comes fast and hard with a gravelly moan. Hot spurts of his seed dribble down the corner of your mouth as you take it all in. 
Ah, this wasn’t what you had planned when you brought him here - but you sure weren’t complaining.
Satoru just about passes out when you stick out your tongue to show you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he gave, cock twitching once more. He needed you in a way that would make a hooker blush. 
Finding his voice, “As much as I’d love to ravish you right here, m’lady, I think you deserve somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” He swats at a mosquito attacking him as you grin devilishly.
---
Gege has never flown across the dry ground of Rustcliffe faster. 
Wind in your hair and Satoru’s arms warmly around your middle, you feel the thundering of his heartbeat against your back - matching your own. You admire his moonlit profile, the light casting an otherworldly glow over his cloud-like hair. You could probably go anywhere if it was by his side. 
You’ve never been happier to see that familiar ol’ ranch.
Navigating your sprawling villa, you find, is close to impossible with a relentless Satoru pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. 
“Satoru…we gotta make it to the bed.” you giggle, drunk off of him rather than the liquor from before. He sighs impatiently, before promptly lifting you off of your feet. His hat and hip holster falling to god-know-where as he runs up the stairs to your bedroom with you in his arms.
The thud of heavy boot echoes throughout the empty house - your parents still at the Harvest Hoedown. It reminds you of the night you first kissed him. As he slams your door shut and pushes you against it, however, you never in your wildest dreams would have thought that it’ll lead to this.
Tongue tangling with Satoru’s, feet still not reaching the ground. You don’t think you’ll make it out of this alive. Nor will Satoru.
Satoru is definitely not making it out alive.
He’s barely stepped a foot into your bedroom before he’s got his hands all over you - groping and teasing every inch of your body he can find. Your legs wrapped around him, he holds you in the air, hands roughly squeezing your ass.
His lips don’t leave yours, tasting himself on your tongue - even as he bunches your skirts around your hips. Exhaling in relief as his hands meet your bare lips, he holds a finger to your pulsing core.
You whimper at the feeling, still sensitive from before. He drinks in your mewls of pain and pleasure, lips curling into a smug smile. “Still sensitive, m’lady? You poor thing. How will you take my cock if yer’ like this?” 
Your groan of impatience turns into a panicked whine as Satoru moves towards the bed, “Maybe we should tuck you in bed for now? Continue this tomorrow?” 
Reading the challenge in his eyes, you immediately free yourself from his hold. His confused gaze soon turns into a surprised one as you push him roughly onto the bed, straddling him after.
“You always do surprise me.” he laughs out between the magnetic kisses you leave on his lips. Buttons fling across the room as you rip his shirt in impatience - fingers too dripping in lust to work through them. You’re sure if the same could be done to your heavy prairie skirt, then it would’ve suffered a similar fate.
You run your hands along his sculpted body greedily, as you’d wanted to since the first time you saw him shirtless. He hisses at the friction and the impatience at wanting to do the same to you, fingers fumbling with your complicated clasps.
After much frustration and curses on whoever invented corsets, you’re finally exposed in front of Satoru.
Shit, he really should call you his goddess. Because in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he thinks he’s in heaven as you sit atop him, bare and needy for him. Fuck Naoya. Fuck any faceless suitable husband. Eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-bitten, you’re like this because of him. 
Grinding his now-bare hips against yours, a low groan rips from his throat at the feeling of your swollen folds spreading against his aching cock. Your dripping slick mixes with his as he continues rutting into you. 
“Ah! Enough teasin’, Satoru- Want you inside me.” you whimper sinfully. 
Your words make Satoru snap. Wordlessly, he sheaths himself inside you with a sigh of relief. Moans leave his throat unrestrained as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper inside your hot cunt. “Fuck. S’tight, your pretty pussy is suckin’ me in so good m’lady.” he hisses out, brows furrowed in pleasure.
Satoru could feel himself losing more and more of his sanity every time your plushy walls clenched down on him as he pulled out to fuck up into with harsh thrusts. It was so animalistic, the way your perfect cunt couldn’t bear to part with him. 
Your slick drips down his length and onto his heavy balls each time he rams into you at a merciless cadence. Soft yelps of his name leave your lips every time his tip kisses your cervix. 
Ah, this time he was actually going to pass out. Your pretty whines, your dripping cunt, the way your tits jiggled so enticingly at each thrust - it was all too much. 
Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Satoru smiles with satisfaction at that one spot that makes you convulse on his cock. Abs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will. 
You were sure to be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow. 
But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Satoru’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So full. 
“K-keep going, Satoru. Don’ stop, please.” Your rickety bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the stinging smacks of his balls against your ass. 
It was so filthy. So debauched. And you absolutely loved it.
As Satoru’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer towards cumming. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Satoru, I’m- Hngh-” 
He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mm. me too. Fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up. You want that, m’lady?”
Just the thought of being so full of Satoru sends you over the edge. You cum with a lewd moan of his name, cunt clenching so impossibly tight around his cock. 
“Ah! Shit.” Satoru grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly. Your whimpers as you gush around him sounds like music to his ears. 
Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums. A part of his soul parting with him that night. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls white, strained whispers of your name leaving his mouth as if a prayer. As if you were his goddess. 
A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper - claiming you as his.
You do the same in your own way - biting down on Satoru’s exposed neck. Hard. His strong arms wrap around you to keep you from moving away, letting you use him as you please. 
Cum drips down your legs, staining your blanket. 
As your highs finally bate, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Satoru from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the innocent blush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you so overstimulated and euphoric.
“Got any travel stories like this?” you chuckle out, half-delirious and exhausted from what just transpired in this room. 
“Not at all.” Satoru breathes out, pulling you closer to him, closing his hazy eyes to the sex-filled air. 
That night, squeezed into your warm single bed, Satoru tells you stories of before his travels. You’re unsure if your parents are home yet, and right now with Satoru in your arms - you don’t care.
You listen as he rambles about growing up in the quaint town of Summer Pass. How he was raised with beautiful parents, a wonderful life. Yet, since the passing of his best friend, he’d taken up what the two had been dreaming of since they were children - wandering the world. 
“I’m afraid, if I stay too long then it always ends up hurtin’.” he whispers into the still night. Caressing his hair, you pull him into your warm embrace. Your heart weighs heavy as the back of your mind pangs with the realization that Satoru will still leave despite this.
Both of you fall asleep reminiscing talks of your childhoods. In your exhausted state, maybe you misheard - but you could’ve sworn by the “I love you, m’lady.” Satoru whispered against your lips right before you closed your eyes. 
Limbs intertwined till you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts, you have the most peaceful sleep in a long time.
You’re unsure when Satoru snuck out of your room. The only evidence of last night being the washcloth on your bedside table that he’d tenderly cleaned you up with, and a singular button from his shirt at the foot of your bed. 
Cheeks heating once you catch sight of it, you make your way down to breakfast in your most well-covered dress. 
What you certainly didn’t expect was to be interrogated by your mother. “So…” she begins. ”When did you come home, darling? We didn’t see you at the hoedown after midnight.”
Ah, suddenly these scrambled eggs just did not want to go down your throat. “Jus’...went to see somethin’ interesting.” you respond, eyes meeting with Satoru’s amused ones across the table as he subtly plays footsies with you underneath.
---
Sneaking around with a secret cowboy boyfriend doesn’t just happen in books, you realize. It’s a lot easier since Naoya is around a lot more often than usual. The only thing he might be good for may be keeping your parents entertained…
Since then, Satoru, you conclude, really does not like L-words: namely, Love and Leaving.
Despite his breathless confession that night, Satoru hasn’t said anything more about his feelings towards you - nor when he’ll be leaving. 
It’s okay, you have time. You console yourself, as you lay in bed with him after he’d snuck into your room as per usual, pulling his warm presence closer to yours. But Satoru’s inevitable departure looms closer and closer like a dark cloud above your head. 
It’s only two months after that night, when you’ve retreated from another engagement conversation you shut down, that Satoru brings it up. Hands intertwined and watching the sunset on top of your father’s barn, he utters in an uncharacteristically grave tone “I planned to leave next week, m’lady.” 
Your heart pricks at his words. You knew this was coming. 
Clenching your fists in self-assurance, your words tumble out.
“Let me come with you.”
“Let me stay with you.”
The nostalgic lullaby of the world around you is deafening as you and Satoru reel back in synchronized surprise. 
“You- stay?”
“Wait- huh?”
Brow raised, you gesture at him to continue. “I just- I thought maybe I could stay here. Build a life with you, if you’d like, m’lady.” 
Your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru - who smiles brightest when talking of his tales of travel - was offering to settle down?
“W-what? Satoru, why would you? You love traveling.” you sputter out in disbelief. His smile grows, as does the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve found something I love a lot more.” he murmurs, with a playful bite to the crook of your neck.
You crack a smile at his sincerity, though you shake your head in disagreement. “You should be out there explorin’ the world, Satoru. And…I want to be right by your side.”
“I thought you loved this place?”
“I do.” you sigh. “But I feel so trapped.”
Resting your head on Satoru’s shoulders, you admit how dear Rustcliffe is to you - although oftentimes you try to deny it - and how you want to leave just as much. 
The stars wink at you two mischievously by the time you’re done, a twinkle that matches the look in Satoru’s eyes as he announces, “So~ We run away together in a blaze of glory. End scene, credits roll, Gege win’s best actor.”
“Exactly. Although I prefer the term unannounced relocation.” you hum, relishing in his bark of laughter. “Now, c’mon, cowboy. We gotta get up early for that damn election rally tomorrow.”
Heading back home as inconspicuous as possible is always tedious. In addition to praying away your swollen lips, you head in innocently at different times. 
Hurriedly greeting your housekeeper, you attempt to make a swift escape to your room. Only to be blocked by…Naoya?
“We meet again, sweetcheeks.” he smiles, stepping closer towards you. Determined to stand your ground, you stare menacingly up at him. “Hello, my apologies for being so unavailable to meet these days. Business, y’know.” your voice steady.
“Ah, yes. I know.” he hums dangerously. Looming closer to your face, you smell the tobacco on his breath as he mutters, “It’s no matter, your father and I have gone through with our conversations. You and I will announce our engagement tomorrow at your father’s rally. That is final.”
“I’ve talked with you about this, I’ve screamed at you about this. I will not marry you no matter what my father nor anyone else says.” you grit out through clenched teeth. 
“Why? Got anyone in mind? Think it’ll be anyone else your father approves of?” he raises a brow, delicately raising the neckline of where your dress had dripped down - where Satoru had nipped before.
He knows.
“Not at all.” you smile sweetly. Not waiting for a response, you run upstairs. Seems like running away in a blaze of glory might have to hurry up.
Twisting and turning the entire night, you don’t get a wink of sleep, mind a whirlwind of how you’d get Satoru and run away before the announcement.
It was terrifying.
---
Parading around town in an itchy engagement dress under the boiling sun on your father’s collection of purebred Italian horses (+ Gege) wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend an ideal morning. But it wasn’t the worst.
You snuck glances at Satoru riding in front of you, looking devastatingly handsome as ever. 
Naoya had been terrifyingly quiet all morning. You could feel his penetrating stare on you, scrutinizing every movement and every conversation. He rides beside you - your soon-to-be husband.
As the procession ends at your father’s podium, where he proudly takes a stand. As he plows on with an inspirational speech that has the audience in cheers, your mind runs a mile a minute as you slip away from the stage. Even in your gauzy white dress, it’s easy to get lost in the animated crowds of Rustcliffe - which you and Satoru use to your advantage.
This was happening. You were going to finally leave. 
Heart clenching at the sight of your jovial parents onstage, you take a long look before turning away. It’s okay, it’s alright. This is something you’ve been wanting for years. 
Brain whirring at the letters you’d send them on your travels, you miss the harsh gaze following you. 
“Satoru!” you gasp at the blur of white and black that embraces you as soon as you step foot into Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon. The bar, empty for the first time in years since your father’s last rally, was your hastily chosen place of refuge.
Nanami, who wasn’t initially too keen on being involved, had sympathized once he saw the look on your face. “Alright, but if anyone asks - you two were never here. Not too good for business, y’know.” he’d stated, permitting you two to do whatever you please. 
Although, it probably was worth noting that he’d almost taken it back once Satoru tackled him into a hug with a joyful squeal of “Nanamiiiin~!”
“C’mon now. I’ve got our bags saddled on Gege. We’ll leave immediately.” Satoru voices, snapping you out of your reminiscing. Rushing to give Nanami a farewell hug, your heart lurches as he whispers “Goodbye. Promise you’ll write.” 
This was really happening.
Nodding in promise, you finally turn to the open door and step into the dusty sunlight. Satoru leads you to where Gege is impatiently waiting for your quick getaway. You could almost laugh at the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins. 
You were going to get out.
You grip onto Satoru’s shoulder for support as he circles his arms around you to lift you onto the seat, slightly shaking at the intoxicating adrenaline. 
You were finally going to be free. 
“Leavin’ so soon, sweetcheeks?” a chilling voice slices through the air. One that you know way too well. Your heart stops, as does Satoru’s hands in midair - before he sets you down slowly.
Body moving against your will, you turn to the deceivingly sweet voice behind you. Naoya.
A cold sweat breaks out across Satoru’s forehead. 
He stares down Naoya’s hand hovering over the holster at his hip. “I knew there was something off about you, barn boy. You think I’d be outmatched by someone like you?” he hisses, resentment poisoning every word.
Satoru does what he does arguably the best, “Oh c’mon asshat, don’t be so melodramatic. We’re just going on a little adventure.” he smirks.
“Don’t I know of these adventures.” Naoya spits out. 
Agonizingly slow, Naoya draws his gun. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the three of you stand frozen, searing sun casting eerie shadows across the desolate road. 
BANG!
Naoya’s first shot tears through the deafening silence. Narrowly missing the bullet, Gege whinnies in fear before running off to safety. Satoru skillfully maneuvers you two into the shadowy alleyway beside Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon.
In the blink of an eye, he presses you close to the dust-bitten wall as he pulls out his gun. “Stay here.” he gasps out.  
With lightning speed, Satoru retaliates - firing back-to-back shots at Naoya with a speed and precision that has him scrambling for cover behind a barrel. 
The gunfire echoes throughout the quiet town, these familiar streets becoming a battleground. Despite both parties shooting from their impromptu covers, neither are invincible. 
A stray bullet harshly grazes his arm, blood painting the ground a deep crimson. Fuck, this really burned like a motherfucker. But he was still alive - he still had to protect you. 
The standoff intensifies, stray bullets flying off in every direction. They splinter holes through the rustic shop banners. You could only be thankful that the town was at the rally, confident you’d never forgive yourself if anyone died on this road today.
Satoru fires off shots with uncanny accuracy, years of defending himself on the road coming in handy. Yet, he was losing blood. So much blood. He realizes with a jolt that his vision was slowly blurring. 
Breaths labored and slumping forward against the wall, he aims one last shot at Naoya. Fuck. Shit. Dear lord, if you’re up there, please don’t let my love die here. 
A finger pulls the trigger. The bullet flies through the air as if in slow-motion. 
It hits metal.
Naoya’s gun flies through the air, clattering onto the sun-scorched ground as he is finally disarmed. The beginnings of a grin curl Satoru’s lips before he heaves out a heavy sigh. Eyes closing and body collapsing forward, the last thing ringing in his ears being your harrowed scream.
“No no no no. Satoru please.” sobs wreck your throat as your hands frantically check for Satoru’s pulse. In your panicked state of mind, you barely register the crunch of gravel nearing towards you two. 
“Shit. The fuck is it that you even want?” that dreaded voice sounds ominously in your ears. “To travel? I can fuckin’ take you places.” 
Sagging on the saloon wall for support, Naoya clutches his bleeding side as he observes the two of you. In an instant, you’re in front of Satoru’s body protectively, hand steady on his discarded gun pointed right at Naoya’s head. 
“Leave, before I shoot your brains out..” you threaten, voice deceptively steady.
“I thought I could be the one to break you - the mayor’s wildchild daughter. But why the fuck do you put yourself through this?” he continues, voice strained with anger. 
“Because he is the one I want. I refuse your proposal, and I am not sorry for it. Now leave.” 
You were standing up now, the cool metal of the barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. Finger hovering above the trigger.
“I believe the lady said to leave.” Nanami’s voice startles you both. His normally stoic face was etched with anger. 
Despite his injuries, Naoya manages to glare at Nanami. But, realizing the odds are against him, he backs away, but not before venomously promising “This ain’t over, sweetcheeks.”
He leaves a bloody trail as he limps out of sight.
“Told you this wasn’t good for business.” Nanami sighs at the chaos. With Nanami’s help, you carry Satoru inside - body moving on instinct as your mind races to process everything that happened. 
The empty bar now serves as an improvised hospital. Laying Satoru down on a table that acts as a makeshift bed, propping his feet up in a desperate attempt to recirculate his blood. You desperately tear the intricate of your engagement dress into bandages, hurriedly wrapping it around his injured arm.
The atmosphere is taut, air once thick with the stench of alcohol now reeking of blood and the dusty antiseptic Nanami had brought to you from the very back of his shelves. The methodic ticking of the bar clock sounds like gunshots to your ears.
His reassuring presence is probably what keeps you sane as you stare unmovingly at your hands, stained a dark red from the blood seeping through Satoru’s clothes. 
You must have been sitting there for hours. Maybe even days. Or it might have even been just a few minutes.
All you know is a flash of blue, and you’re surging forward, heart racing. “Satoru?! Satoru! Please say something.” you cry out, tears streaming down your face once more. Nanami quietly makes his exit to the back, leaving the two lovers to their privacy.
“Satoru.” you breathe out, relief flooding your body and a smile forcing its way onto your face as Satoru’s half-lidded eyes meet your worried ones. 
“M’lady.” he whispers weakly. His uninjured arm shakily cups your cheek, and you lean into his warm touch. “I would never have forgiven myself if I left you alone, m’lady.” he rasps, eyes boring into yours. “Couldn’t have fought off the tumbleweeds yourself.”
You let out a watery laugh. There he is, the man you love.
“I love you, Satoru.” you speak in a hushed tone, as if anything louder will throw you back into your nightmare. His smile grows, blue summer eyes flooding with silent tears. 
“I love you, too. So, so much. Wherever you go s’ where I belong, my love.” he utters words meant for you - and only you. 
Your heart swells at the indescribable emotion on his face. “Then, rest well. We have to make our getaway in a blaze of glory, remember?” 
It wasn’t a blaze of glory, more like a teary trail of apologies and thanks as you embrace Nanami farewell - for the second time today. He hugs Satoru too, but only begrudgingly after he bemoans about being on the brink of death any second now. 
You step outside once more, hands shaky at what awaits you. 
In the distance, you hear a frantic call of your name. You turn, only to have your parents barreling emotionally into you. 
Word seems to have spread around town about what had happened, and your parents were first to come to you - your father running off midspeech. 
Through your hurried stream of tears and recollections of what happened, you managed to bawl out “I-I’m so-”
Words which are quickly hushed by your equally emotional parents. “Please don’ apologize.” your mother soothes.
“If anything, I should. I’m so sorry for tryin’ to coop you up here, my dear. I was a scared, insolent man. S’hard to not see you as my little girl, I hope you can forgive me, my darling.” your father sighs shakily. He looks a lot older than you remember him.
Grabbing both your parents into a tight embrace, you whisper out the words “I love you, and I promise to write.” 
With a final hug goodbye from your parents - to both you and Satoru, you take a seat in front of him on the now-calm Gege. 
“Ready m’lady?” you send a teasing glance at Satoru, who positively swoons overdramatically.
“Oh yes, Mr. Brave n’ Handsome cowboy.” he responds in a theatrically high falsetto. “Travelin’ the world won’t be all sunshines and rainbows, y’know? If you want a way out now then jus’ say the word.” he warns in his normal voice.
“Trynna get rid of me already, cowboy?” you raise a brow playfully. He wraps his arms securely around your waist. “Just sayin’, wouldn’t want you to regret a single thing.” he murmurs softly.
“I won’t. As long as we win against those tumbleweeds, right?”
Huffing out a laugh, “Can’t promise ya that, my love. You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me.”
The snap of reins. A last look at your waving parents, and your little town of Rustcliffe. You ride into the horizon with your white dress billowing behind you - on what you and Satoru would later consider blazing glory. 
---
“Didya hear about the mayor’s daughter? Last I heard, she was kidnapped by a rogue cowboy a couple years back, snatched her straight off her feet on her wedding day!”
“Hogwash! I heard she went quite willingly - the boy was quite a looker, you see. Stabbed her fiancé in his sleep before riding off into the sunset!”
Nanami stifles a laugh at the scandalized gasps echoing around the table as the old drunkards run the gossip mill. 
In a subtle motion, he discreetly tucks away a photograph, its back adorned with enthusiastic handwriting and a…hoofprint? 
Taj Mahal sprawling in the backdrop, two identical heads of white hair grin mischievously in the photo. 
Yet, yours takes center stage.
Tumblr media
A/N. Did this in two days, anything is possible kids (I need to lie down). Reblogs are so so so appreciated.
Plagiarism not authorized.
8K notes · View notes
sunniques · 8 months ago
Text
— 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: as a spoiled brat, you’ve always been one to get what you want—even things that don’t belong to you.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, dub con, possessiveness, somnophilia, daddy kink, breeding kink, begging, pussy job, riding, squirting, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation
➺ WC: 3k
NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.
Tumblr media
The room is completely dark when you enter it. You can barely make out the familiar layout in the darkness, but that doesn’t stop you. With sly expertise, you navigate your way through the darkness until you find the large window at the opposite end of the room. You glance over at the bed for a moment before carefully opening the curtains and letting the moonlight into the room.
The moon is shining so brightly that it illuminates most of the room. Perfect. You look over your shoulder with a satisfied smirk. Your stepdad’s sleeping form looks ethereal in the moonlight. He’s shirtless, leaving his muscular form laid out for your greedy eyes to take in. The sheets are covering most of his lower half, but you can see his legs peeking through just a bit. You turn fully, licking your lips as you hope he’s decided to sleep naked. It wasn’t necessary, but it would help.
Like a preying feline, you inch toward the bed quietly until you’re standing at the edge. Seungcheol remains peacefully asleep, unaware that he’s been caught in your web of depraved desires. You bite your lip as excitement courses through your veins. Slowly and quietly, you slip out of your sleep shorts and your loose top. Only left in your tiny thong, you crawl on the large bed and carefully inch toward your sleeping stepfather.
You take a quick glance at his sleeping face before tossing the sheets off his body. To your luck, Seungcheol is completely naked. It’s hard to contain your excitement and lust when you see his dick. Your eyes glaze over and your mouth waters at the sight. His cock is thick and long, curving upward into his abdomen. It’s so big and pretty that you can’t hold back anymore. You crawl closer him and descend on his cock like a starved woman.
You lick a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way up to the bulbous tip. His musky taste has your pussy clenching around nothing. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you repeat the motions over and over until his cock starts to twitch and harden. Soon enough, his tip starts to leak with precum that you greedily lap up. You relish in the soft noises Seungcheol lets out as you circle your tongue around the leaking slit.
With a sly grin you pull back. Carefully, you slide off your underwear and toss it aside. You have a predatory smile on your face as you swing one leg over your stepdad’s strong body. A quiet moan tears from your throat when you sit down on his pulsing cock. You’re so wet that all your arousal drips onto his hardening cock. Biting your lip, you start to slide your slick cunt up and down his length. The delicious friction makes it impossible for you to contain your quiet moans.
Seungcheol’s hot cock feels too good against your pussy. Every ridge and vein dragging against your clit and slick lips is making you feel drunk with arousal. You watch with satisfaction as your stepdad’s thick eyebrows furrow. Low grunts tumble past his soft looking lips, and he looks so hot that you can’t believe you’ve waited so long to do this. If only your mom had gotten a promotion sooner. Now with her going on business trips more often, you would be able to have fun with her husband to your heart and pussy’s content.
You can feel just how much Seungcheol likes your lewd actions, and eventually you can’t handle any more foreplay. Lifting your hips up, you reach down and grab his cock. He’s so big that you can’t fully wrap your hand around him, and it just makes you all the more eager to have him inside you.
Somehow Seungcheol doesn’t wake up even when you tease his leaking tip against your creamy folds. You hiss quietly when the bulbous head goes past your folds. It’s painful at first, but you love every second of it. When you slide down on rest of his cock, you think you might cum from the stretch alone. You throw your head back, eyes rolling into your skull as you gasp out in pleasure.
No one has ever been so deep inside you. His cock is kissing your cervix, and it has your pussy clenching down on him so tightly that you think it might be a little hard to move. “Fuck.”
You lift your hips, and slowly ease yourself down again. Lustful whimpers and moans escape you as you slowly repeat your motions, feeling almost dizzy at the way his big cock is stretching you out. His dick feels so fucking good; hot and throbbing and aching to burst inside you.
“So fucking big.” You hiss, planting your hands on his torso. Tracing the ridge of his hard abs as you fuck yourself on his cock feels like absolute heaven, but you’re done indulging in your fantasy alone.
Throwing whatever scrap of inhibition you have left, you raise your lower body before roughly slamming your ass back down. The harsh movement makes you cry out in pleasure. You start to move eagerly, not holding back any of your movements. His cock hits deep inside you, stretching out your tight little hole with every bounce.
You can’t take your eyes off of Seungcheol’s face. Low groans slip out of his lips, and you can see his eyes twitching beneath his eyelids. You lick your lips and grin. He’s slowly starting to stir which makes you speed up your eager movements.
Seungcheol is slowly pulled out of his sleep by the feeling of immense pleasure. He feels the weight of someone on top of him and something hot and tight wrapped around his cock. Lewd squelching and lovely moans fill his ears as he slowly peels his eyes open. His vision is slightly blurry, but he can still make out the sight of a body that definitely doesn’t belong to his wife on top of him.
“What—?” His voice is groggy and comes out in a half-groan.
Seungcheol blinks slowly, suddenly very aware that his young stepdaughter is bouncing on his cock. The sight is so filthy and hot that his cock twitches and throbs inside you. It’s so wrong, but he’s too shocked to do anything. That, and he’s powerless to the way your tight cunt feels around him.
“Princess,” his voice is gruff, almost scolding in tone. “What are you doing?”
You moan and clench around him because even in this situation he still calls you by the pet name you love so much. Leaning back on your arms, you slow your bounces into gentle grinds to give Seungcheol a filthy show of your pussy being stretched open. You smirk when you see his eyes lock where you two are connected.
“Sorry, daddy.” You moan, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help myself—fuck. Your cock is just so big.”
Your bratty words really shouldn’t turn him on, but they do. It doesn’t help that you look so good while you use his cock like your own personal fucktoy. The way your pretty tits bounce is mesmerizing and the fucked out expression you’re wearing is enough to push him closer to his orgasm. Your moans are the filthiest he’s ever heard—so loud and impetuous. He feels sick for enjoying it all. The entire situation is so wrong, and yet he makes no move to get you off of him.
“Y/N.” He growls your name like you’ve imagined so many times.
You lean forward and grab his large hands. Slowly, you guide them up your body until they’re on your tits. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you, and you give him an impish smile as you make him squeeze.
“Yes, daddy?” You purr, slowing your movements to provide the most minimal friction.
A thrill runs down your spine when he lets out a grunt of disapproval. You can tell he’s still fighting himself on giving into his desires, so you clench down on him again as you increase your pace. Just like you thought, the lustful action ignites something in him. His hands squeeze your tits on their own this time, pinching and tugging on your hard nipples before they trail down your body.
Seungcheol sits up, any qualms about what was happening pushed out of his mind. He couldn’t think about his wife or the fact that he had enabled your behavior by always indulging your bratty desires. All he could think about was your sweet little cunt.
“God, baby.” He groans as his hands go to rest on your ass. “You’re such a needy girl. Couldn’t even ask me properly for my cock. You just had to come in here and take it like a greedy little brat.”
His big hands deliver a harsh slap to your ass which make you cry out and jolt forward. Seungcheol captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue gliding over your taut nipple with an eagerness he’d been holding back until now.
“Daddy!” You mewl out, pussy clenching hard around his throbbing cock.
Seungcheol hisses around your nipple and kneads your ass. He slowly starts to fuck up into you as he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud. His senses are completely invaded by you—your taste, your scent, your touch. He can feel you get wetter as he wildly flicks his tongue around your nipple, rolling and sucking on it as if it’s an addicting candy.
Your arms wrap around your stepdad’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer to your chest as you slide up and down his thick cock. You toss your head back with a loud moan when his hands squeeze your ass as he starts to guide you up and down his dick. His leaking tip hits a spot that makes you see stars, and it pushes you closer to your orgasm.
“Fuck!” You squeal. “I love riding your big cock, daddy!”
“Yeah?” He groans against your tit. Seungcheol’s wet mouth pops off your nipple, a string of saliva attached to his lips. His eyes are dark with arousal and need. “Love me stretching out your tight little pussy?”
“Yes, daddy, yes! Can’t get enough of your dick!”
Your juices are dripping down his heavy balls and make the sound of his skin slapping against yours entirely carnal. Every clap of his heavy balls on your ass jolts you and forces you to brace yourself on his strong chest. One of Seungcheol’s hand trails up your spine and cups the back of your head to pull you to his lips. His mouth devours yours in a lust-fuelled kiss.
Seungcheol swallows your squeal as him other hand moves between your legs. His thumb finds your puffy clot, rubbing practiced circles on the aching bud. You moan into each other’s mouths as your juices coat his unrelenting cock. All it takes is one particularly hard thrust for you to cum all over Seungcheol’s cock.
“Da-Daddy!” You cry out in ecstasy as your cream stains his throbbing cock.
Seungcheol moans along with you. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your hot cunt tightening impossibly around him. It almost feels like you’re suffocating his cock, and he loves every second of it. He licks his lips as he fucks up into you, stimulating you through your orgasm. The sight of you cumming is something he’ll never forget. A carnal desire consumes him, and in that moment he realizes he never wants to stop seeing it.
“Cum inside me, daddy.” You whimper in his ear.
You feel Seungcheol’s cock twitch and throb inside you. Immediately, you can tell the idea turns him on as much as it does you. As always, you’re determined to get what you want. “Want it so bad, daddy. Please.”
Seungcheol starts to fuck up into you roughly, groaning when he hears your needy pleas. It’s rare for you to say the word please, and to hear you moan it out so wantonly because you want his cum is driving him insane. As usual, he’s going to give you what you want. That doesn’t mean he won’t take full advantage of your desperation, though.
“Bratty little girl wants her pussy stuffed?” He coos against your collarbone. “You want daddy to fuck you full of cum?”
God, you’ve never wanted anything more. And at this point, you aren’t above begging for it.
“Yes!” You pant, thighs trembling as you move your hips to meet his rough thrusts. “Cum in my pussy, daddy! Fill me up like the nasty slut I am!”
Your words and your fucked out face are enough to push Seungcheol over the edge. He spills his hot cum into you with a loud moan of your name. Lewd squelching mix in with your cries of pleasure, the musky smell of sex permeating the air as your stepfather fucks his cum deep inside your battered cunt.
“Fuck, just look at you.” Seungcheol groans as he keeps slamming his cock against your cervix. “Milking daddy’s cock like the greedy little brat that you are.”
But he doesn’t stop there.
Seungcheol is insatiable, and now that he’s gotten a taste of your tight little pussy, he’s going to indulge himself to his cock’s desire.
One of his strong arms wraps around you. Suddenly you’re flipped on your back. You let out a choked moan as his hands spread you apart and his cock spears into you again. His hips start to snap relentlessly. Seungcheol has never looked hotter than he does now, literally fucking you into the bed he shares with your mother.
His thrusts are deliberate and rough, but he doesn’t stop or slow down. You’re crying out from the overstimulation, and it somehow makes him more ravenous. Seungcheol loves watching you tremble on his cock. You’re already so addicted to him fucking you that you don’t think to ask him to stop. In fact, you plead for more like the demanding little freak that you are.
Is it wrong that his chest swells with affection when you do?
Your arms wrap around his muscular back, yanking him down for a messy kiss. Seungcheol’s aching cock throbs against your velvety walls when you mewl out a needy daddy against his lips. He coos sweetly, lowering his body until his balls touch the filthiness between your thighs. Your stepdad’s big cock is slamming into you to the hilt, and you can practically feel him in your guts.
“Feels so fucking good, daddy.” You whine as he rams his cock into your sweet spot.
Your entire body tenses, and your cunt sucks him deeper, hungry for more despite there being no room left. Squelching noises bounce off the walls as he splits you open. Seungcheol fucks you harder and deeper as if he’s determined to rearrange your insides. He grabs your hips and pulls you to meet his rough thrusts before reaching down to collect your cream that’s formed a ring around his base.
Seungcheol gives you a filthy smirk as he laps up the fluids he’s collected from his fingers. He groans at the taste, knowing he won’t let you leave this bed until he’s made you cum on his tongue. “You taste so fucking sweet when you’re full of me, princess.”
The sight is so nasty and erotic that the coil building in your stomach snaps. Your stepdad leans back, watching with aroused fascination as you squirt all over his cock and cover his lower abdomen in your release. Your whole body convulses as quiet mewls pour from your mouth. His thrusts have slowed into thorough grinds as sticky strings connect your most intimate parts.
“Fuck—Y/N!” Seungcheol groans as he pumps you with another hot load.
“Give me all your cum, daddy!” You cry out, hips moving on their own when you feel his seed spill into your welcoming cunt.
You allow him to move you as he pleases, dragging out your orgasm as it bleeds into another—you can barely breathe as he rubs your sore clit. Seungcheol fucks his cum into you, forcing you to take the previous loads and his fat cock. Your sweet cries of pleasure are music to his ears. He knows then that he can’t possibly let anyone hear the lovely little noises you make.
“This pretty little pussy belongs to me now.” Your stepfather’s possessive grunt has you clenching around his dick. “Gonna fuck you like this every day. Gonna fill this tight cunt with my cum until your belly is swollen with my baby.”
His cum keeps spurting along your sore walls, trying to find space as if there’s any left. You moan wantonly when you feel it seep out of you. Seungcheol moans along with you, loving the sight of his seed leaking down your ass and drip onto his heavy balls.
Seungcheol pulls back with a fucked out smile, sweat brimming at his hairline. His chest fills with pride at your dazed expression. Slowly, he keeps fucking his cum into you, desperate to knock you up how he promised. Wet noises seep into your foggy mind, playing dully in the background to your cum-filled thoughts. He’s successfully fucked you stupid, and you’ve never felt so good.
Your cunt is filled to the brim, his seed coating your hole from the inside out. Seungcheol doesn’t hide his lascivious smirk. The sight just might be his favorite thing—next to that dumb expression you have on your face of course. It only makes him want to do it all over again. Each grind sends little shocks throughout your body. Seungcheol groans gutturally when you lazily start to meet his thrusts.
“My bratty little princess.” Seungcheol coos adoringly as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. “You’re sleeping with daddy tonight.”
The triumphant little smirk you give him is enough indication to let Seungcheol know that once again he’s fallen into his pretty little freak’s selfish trap.
3K notes · View notes