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tonycries · 10 months ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.

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.

“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.

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

junovrsmp4 · 9 months ago

Text

three is not a crowd

5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun

pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris

summary: what it says on the tin basically

warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay

word count: 6.9K

author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad

“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.

What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.

Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.

At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.

“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.

“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”

At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.

Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.

Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.

You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.

Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.

You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.

Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.

Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.

Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.

Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.

“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-

You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-

Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.

So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.

It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.

Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.

“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”

Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.

Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.

Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.

He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.

He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.

It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?

There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-

“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”

“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Right.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.

This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.

It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.

Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.

“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.

“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.

You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.

Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.

Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.

The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.

He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.

It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.

You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.

“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.

Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.

He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.

See what I have, what you so desperately want…

Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.

It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.

Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.

So, it had to be on purpose.

Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”

“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.

“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.

You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.

Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.

Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.

Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.

It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.

It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.

“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”

And with that, Nick storms back into their house.

Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.

Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.

“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.

Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.

“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”

Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.

Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”

“She wants you bro.”

Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.

“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.

“What…?”

“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”

Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”

“I’m not kidding, Chris.”

Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.

You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.

“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”

He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.

“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”

“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”

“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”

“Oh, god-”

“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”

“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.

“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.

“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”

And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.

Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.

Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.

+ 1

They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.

They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.

Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.

“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.

That’s all the cue he needs.

Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.

“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.

“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.

Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.

Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.

“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.

“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”

You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.

“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”

You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.

“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.

“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.

Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.

“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”

“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”

“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”

“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.

“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.

You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.

Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.

“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.

Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.

Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.

“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”

“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”

Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.

At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.

You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.

Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.

“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.

Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.

The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.

The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.

“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.

“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”

After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.

Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.

author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag

#junovrs writes #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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lostfracturess · 6 months ago

Text

BACKSEAT MISTAKES — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x female!reader

summary — satoru gojo and you have been driving each other crazy all night with your constant teasing. just your luck, the only seat left in the car heading back home is right on his lap. with every bump and turn on the road home, you can't help grinding against him and with his moans in your ear, it's only a matter of time before something more happens right?

word count — 6.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, mentions of alcohol usage, unprotected sex, penetration, fingering, public sex, kinda breeding kink, praising, needy female, overstimulation, edging, oral (both male and female), satoru is a bit insane as always.

author's note — no need for fancy intros, don't act innocent, we both know you didn't click this for the plot. this is basically a continuation of this headcanon. if you enjoyed watching satoru lose his mind, i'd appreciate a reblog or comment, and now happy reading <3

masterlist

Satoru Gojo's lap was absolutely the last place you expected to find yourself tonight. Yet here you are, perched on his muscular thighs, the crowded car speeding towards your place after the party.

Trying to get comfortable, you shift your weight, accidentally brushing against his crotch. Satoru sucks in a sharp breath.

"Easy there." His hand grips your waist tighter, pulling you flush against his chest. "Or are you trying to start something?"

"You wish," you fire back.

"Oh, I do wish." He smirks, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt "Been wanting to get my hands on you all night."

You merely huff, pretending indifference even as your heart races at his words, his touch. Satoru Gojo is the biggest tease on campus, and he fucking knows it.

Tonight's party was no different.

From the moment you arrived, Satoru was there, looking infuriatingly handsome in his tight shirt that clung to his every muscle, flashing that cocky grin whenever he caught you staring. Which was often.

Now, crammed in Suguru's car, the only seat left just had to be Satoru's lap. Before you could protest, Suguru hit the gas and the car lurched forward.

Satoru's arm snakes around your waist to steady you. "Careful there," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Wouldn't want you to fall."

Biting your lip, you stare out the window, trying to focus on anything but the way your bodies are molded together. Every bump, every turn presses you against him in the most maddening way.

Heat pools in your core as you fight the urge to grind down onto him. Blame it on the alcohol, but it was damn hard to think straight when you were rubbing against his rough pants.

But then a glance at Satoru nearly makes you gasp. Head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted. His arm tightens around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

Then, he dips his head, lips grazing your ear. "Keep squirming like that, love, and we're gonna have a situation." His other hand finds your thigh, fingertips dragging over your skin. "Not that I'm complaining. Grind on me all you want."

Your breath catches. Heat courses through your veins, and it's only partly from the alcohol. Maybe it's liquid courage, maybe it's weeks of pent-up frustration. But now it's payback time.

Slowly, deliberately, you roll your hips, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

Satoru shifts beneath you. Unmistakable proof of his hardening length brushes your backside, a whimper nearly escapes him.

"Fuck, you feel what you do to me?" Satoru's groan is quiet in your ear. "Been hard for you all damn night."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Oh, I've got plenty in mind." Satoru's fingers dig into your hip. "But not sure you could handle it with an audience."

"Try me. I dare you."

"Don't tempt me. When I get you alone, you're gonna regret being such a tease."

Boldly, you rock your hips against him, teasing him just a little bit more.

His hips buck up involuntarily, seeking friction. His cock presses against your backside. He dips his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Another moan falls from his lips, this one deeper, needier, muffled against your shoulder.

"Keep moving like that and I won't be able to control myself," he warns, his words hot against your shoulder. "Gonna end up taking you right here in this car, audience be damned."

And oh, how you wanted to take him up on that challenge.

You shift again, this time with clear intent. You grind down against his hardness, rolling your hips in a slow, deliberate circle but subtly to avoid drawing attention from the others in the car, the flowing fabric of your skirt thankfully providing enough coverage to conceal your movements.

His fingers dig into your waist, a strangled groan escaping his throat. You feel him grow even harder beneath you, straining against the confines of his pants, his thick length digging into your backside.

Biting your lip, you reach back and palm him through his pants, squeezing gently. You can feel him throb through the layers of clothing separating you.

Satoru jolts, a high, needy whine catching in his throat. His head falls back against the seat, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to maintain control.

"Shit, shit, wait," he pants, fingers circling your wrist to stop your teasing touch. "Stop that."

"What's the matter, Satoru? Can't handle a little teasing?"

"You're going to regret this," he warns, voice thin with strain. "You're in so much trouble when I get you alone."

Wetness pools between your thighs, soaking through your underwear. You've never wanted him more than in this moment.

Satoru's mouth finds your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "But you know, two can play at this game, love," he rumbles against your throat. "And I play to win."

To punctuate his point, his free hand slides up your inner thigh, fingers brushing feather-light over your feverish skin. Even that small touch makes you gasp, hips pressing against his.

"Better be careful. Keep up the teasing and I might just make you come right here, audience or no."

Your breath hitches, body torn between the desire to let him do just that and the knowledge that you're very much not alone.

But Satoru seems determined to push things further. His fingers grow bolder, wandering further up your thigh, skimming over the sensitive skin with feather-light touches that have you squirming.

Higher and higher he goes, until finally, finally, he reaches your clothed core. Your pulse pounds in your ears as he traces the lacy edge of your underwear, the barest hint of a touch.

"Satoru," you whisper, half plea, half warning. You're not sure if you're begging him to stop or keep going, but it doesn't matter. He does what he wants anyway.

"Shh," he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. "Just keep quiet and let me make you feel good."

With that, he presses his fingers more firmly against you, rubbing slow, lazy strokes over your clothed clit. Biting your lip hard, you try to stifle the moan rising in your throat. But then his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, and the first direct touch of skin against skin has you shuddering in his lap.

"So wet," Satoru marvels, fingers gliding easily through your slick folds. "All this, just from a little teasing? You're going to be drenched by the time we get home."

"Satoru," you whimper. "Please..."

"Please what, love?" His fingers circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. "Tell me what you want."

"I want—" you start, only to cut off with a gasp when the car hits a pothole, causing his fingers to slip lower, teasing your entrance.

"Sorry guys," Suguru calls over his shoulder, "road's a bit bumpy."

"Yeah, no problem," Satoru replies, voice surprisingly steady for a man with his hand between your legs. "We're good."

Good is an understatement.

The way his fingers are moving against you, dipping just slightly into your entrance before sliding back up to your clit, has you seeing stars. Your hips rock against his touch, desperate for more.

He traces the very edge of your entrance, circling you with a barely-there pressure that makes you want to scream. Dipping just the tips of his fingers inside, he gathers the wetness before gliding back up to your clit.

His touch is maddening. You're desperate for more, for the thick slide of his fingers deep inside you, for the delicious stretch and fullness. But Satoru denies you, keeps his touches feather-light and fleeting, never quite giving you what you need.

"Please," you whimper, hips canting shamelessly against his hand. "Please, Satoru, I need..."

"What do you need, love?" he purrs in your ear, fingers continuing their torturous movements. "Use your words."

"Your fingers. Inside me. Please, I need you inside me."

Satoru hums, considering.

His fingers dip into your entrance again, just slightly deeper than before. Your breath hitches, walls fluttering around the teasing intrusion. But before you can grind down, before you can take him deeper, he withdraws, sliding back up to circle your clit.

"Satoru," you whine plaintively.

"Patience, love. I'll give you what you need. Eventually."

His fingers glide down again, tracing through your slick folds, teasing at your entrance without ever breaching. It's torturous, the ghosting pressure where you're empty and aching.

Up and down, up and down, never pushing inside but just hinting at the pleasure of it. Your core turns molten until you think you can't take it any longer.

You're so wet you can hear it, the obscene sound of his fingers gliding through your arousal seeming impossibly loud in the close confines of the car.

"Fuck, you're dripping. I've barely touched you and you're already this wet for me."

As if to emphasize his point, he circles your entrance again, dipping just the very tips of his fingers inside, stretching you open around him for a fleeting second before withdrawing.

"So desperate to be filled. You want it so bad, don't you, love?," he marvels, pressing just slightly deeper on the next pass. "Want my fingers buried deep inside you, want me stretching you open and fucking you until you scream."

"Yes," you sob, head thrashing against his shoulder. "Yes, please Satoru, please..."

He rewards your begging with another barely-there thrust, the very tips of his fingers breaching your entrance before retreating again. It's simultaneously too much and not enough, the fleeting fullness stoking your desperation to a fever pitch.

"Satoru, please. I can't... I need..."

"Shh, I know. I've got you, love. Going to give you what you need now."

Slowly, torturously, he sinks one long finger into you. The slide is smooth and easy, your body offering no resistance. You moan low in your throat, head tipping back in relief and pleasure as he bottoms out, buried to the knuckle.

"Fuck, you're tight," Satoru whispers, sounding almost pained. "And so wet, fuck. Can't wait to feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around my cock."

The thought makes you clench hard, walls rippling around his finger. Satoru groans, hips grinding up against your ass, the thick line of his cock digging into you.

Slowly, he starts to move, pumping his finger in and out of you. But it's not enough, the stretch too slight to truly satisfy the ache inside you.

"More. Please, Satoru, more."

He obeys with a second finger, the added thickness making you gasp and arch. Satoru sets a deep rhythm, fingers curling to stroke that spot inside you that make you bite down your lip.

"Fuck, Satoru. More, please, more..."

You feel his answering groan more than hear it, the vibration of it rumbling through his chest pressed against your back. "Such a greedy girl, always needin' more."

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust, before you can do more than gasp, he's withdrawing, ignoring your whimper of protest. But it's only for a second, just long enough for him to add a third finger on the next plunge.

The stretch is maddening, bordering on too much. It tears a gasp from your throat before you can stop it. It's loud enough to make Suguru glance back briefly. "Everything okay back there?"

You bite down you lip to keep from whimpering. With his fingers still inside you, Satoru keeps his expression impressively neutral, even as his other hand grips your thigh hard enough to bruise.

"Yeah, we're good. Hey, can you turn up the music? I love that song."

Suguru shrugs, seemingly oblivious to what happens in the backseat. "Sure thing, man." He reaches for the volume dial, cranking up the pounding bass until it fills the car.

You've never been more grateful for loud music in your life. As the beat thrums through the vehicle, you pray it will drown out any further sounds you might make. Especially considering Choso and Kento, passed out drunk were literally sitting beside you.

Satoru bottoms out, three fingers buried as deep as they can go, stretching you impossibly full. For a moment he stays like that, let's you just feel the perfect ache of it, the way your inner walls ripple and squeeze around him.

"Oh fuck." You grind your hips down to take him even deeper. "Satoru, yes..."

"That's it, take it. Take everything I give you like a good girl."

Slowly he begins to move. It's a smooth, deep glide, his fingers stroking you from the inside with devastating precision. He curls them just right, rubbing over that sensitive spot he found as if he knew it by heart.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent moan as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

"God, the sounds you make," Satoru groans, pumping his fingers faster, harder. "Sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard. Could listen to you moan for me all damn night. I wonder why he didn't do that sooner?"

Every thrust of Satoru's fingers, every glancing brush of his thumb over your clit, drags another broken whimper from your throat. Pleasure builds rapidly fast, your body climbing higher and higher, chasing the release that shimmers just out of reach.

"Satoru, please," you gasp. "I'm so close, I need... fuck, I need..."

"I know what you need," he rasps, doubling his efforts. His fingers piston in and out of you. "Need to come, don't you? Need to soak my fingers, drench my hand in your cum until it's dripping down my wrist."

"Satoru. Need you. Please."

"Shh, I've got you," he soothes, even as his thrusts grows harder, faster. "Just let go, love. I'll catch you."

Thank god for the loud music and low lighting. If not for that, everyone in the car would be clearly aware of exactly what Satoru is doing to you right now, how you're trembling and writhing in his lap.

His fingers speed up, his thump rubbing firm circles against your clit. You're close, teetering on the knife's edge of release.

"That's it. You're being so good for me, staying quiet while I make you feel good. You gonna come for me, love? Gonna soak my fingers while trying not to scream?"

His words make you clench hard around his fingers. Your thighs start to tremble. You're so close, body drawn tight.

Satoru feels it too. "That's it. Come on my fingers, love. Wanna feel you let go."

But just as you're about to tip over the edge, just as your eyes are fluttering closed, the car rolls to a stop. Satoru's fingers still deep inside you, a frustrated groan rumbling in his chest.

"We're here," Suguru announces, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

It takes a moment for the words to reach you through the haze clouding your mind. You blink dazedly, struggling to catch your breath as Satoru carefully withdraws his hand form you.

"Thanks for the ride, man," he says to Suguru, voice strained but level. "I'll make sure she gets in safe."

"You sure you don't need a ride too? I don't mind, it's on my way."

But Satoru is already shaking his head, one hand reaching for yours, lacing your fingers together. "Nah, I'm good. I'll walk or catch a cab later."

He doesn't wait for a response, practically yanking you out of the car and slamming the door shut behind you. Satoru's grip on your hand tightens as he drags you to the door of your house, impatient to get you inside.

You fumble with your keys, doesn't help that Satoru is pressed against your back, the hard length of him digging into you, making it difficult to concentrate.

"Hurry," he urges. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the heated skin. You gasp, head falling back against his shoulder as he sucks at your throat.

Finally, blessedly, the door swings open.

You barely have time to step inside before Satoru is on you again, kicking the door shut and pinning you against it. His mouth on yours in a bruising kiss, tongue delving deep, claiming you.

He kisses you like a starving man at a feast, consuming you, devouring you. It's all you can do to cling to his shoulders as the onslaught continues, feeling dizzy and breathless.

Large hands roam your body, pushing your skirt up around your waist, squeezing your ass. He grinds against you, the rough fabric of his pants creating delicious friction against your sensitive core.

"Satoru," you gasp as his mouth trails down your neck, teeth nipping. "Bedroom. Now."

"Takes too long." In one swift motion, he grasps your hips and lifts you up, turning to set you down on the stairs instead.

Your breath catches as your back meets the cold wooden steps. His body covers yours, his weight on you as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against you.

He braces a hand on the stair by your head, the other trailing down your side. "You've been teasing me all night. Strutting around in this tiny little outfit, bending over in front of me, brushing against me 'accidentally'. Driving me fucking crazy.”

He rolls his hips, grinding against your core. Even through layers of clothing, the friction is maddening. Your back arches, pressing closer.

"Maybe I like driving you crazy," you manage breathlessly. Your own hands tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. "Maybe I like seeing you so desperate."

"Careful what you wish for, love."

Satoru's electric blue eyes burn into you, pupils blown wide. With a swift movement, he pushes you up against him and tugs your shirt over your head, tossed carelessly to the side.

You gasp as the cool air of the room hits your heated skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. But it quickly turns into a moan when his mouth is on your chest.

"That's for teasing me all night. Need me to mark you as mine, huh? Show everyone who you belong to?"

You moan, high and breathy, as his lips wander lower, tongue swirling against your sternum. When he reaches the edge of your bra, he doesn't hesitate, dragging the cups down to free your breasts. His large hands cup the soft mounds, squeezing gently.

"Fucking perfect." His large hands cup the soft mounds, squeezing gently, thumbs brushing over the hardened nipples. Then his mouth is on you, hot and wet, and coherent thought becomes impossible.

His tongue laves over one nipple, lapping at the sensitive bud, teeth grazing lightly. He sucks it deep into his mouth, the pull of his lips sending heat straight to your core.

Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft white strands as you hold him to your chest. Desperate, needy sounds spill from your lips as he works you over, every swipe of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth stoking the fire within you higher.

He lavishes the same attention on your other breast, sucking and licking and biting until you're writhing against him, hips rolling restlessly, seeking friction. Your core throbs, molten heat gathering between your thighs.

"Satoru," you gasp, arching into his touch. "Feels so good."

He hums around your nipple, the vibrations making you shudder. His free hand glides down your side, skimming over your ribs and waist, before gripping your hip possessively.

Satoru releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the wet nipple before his lips trail lower, peppering open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. He sucks a mark into the curve of your hip, tongue soothing the sting.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, starting to tug them down. But then he pauses, looking up at you through his lashes with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Tell me what you want, love. Tell me how you want me to pleasure you."

“Your mouth.” You swallow hard, mind hazy. "Want your mouth on me."

A slow smile spreads across his face. "As you wish."

With deliberate slowness, he drags your underwear down your legs, baring you completely to his gaze. He settles between your thighs, hands smoothing up your trembling legs to grip your hips, spreading you wider for him. Fingertips press into your skin, hard enough to leave bruises.

"Look at you. So wet for me already. Bet you've been dripping for me all night, haven't you?"

Then, he dips his head, and the first hot swipe of his tongue through your folds has you crying out, fingers scrabbling for purchase in his hair. Satoru moans at your taste, the sound vibrating against your core.

He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck, seeking more of his tongue on you, but his hands hold you firmly in place. He teases you with slow licks, ghosting over where you need him most.

"God, Satoru, please," you whimper. "No more teasing."

"So needy."

But he obeys, diving in like a man starved, mouth hot and wet against your core, his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Before his tongue delves deep, fucking into you with lazy, wet strokes.

Your hips buck against his face, a strangled moan rips from your throat. Satoru's hands tighten on your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you.

"That's it, love," he encourages, pulling back just enough to speak. "Let me hear you. Want everyone in the building to know who's making you feel this good."

Your thighs tremble around his head, the obscene wet sounds of his mouth on you filling the room. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core with every stroke of his tongue.

"Tell me, love. Tell me how desperate you've been for me, how soaked you've been all night thinking about my cock."

"So badly," you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair. "Needed you to touch me, to fill me up. Please, Satoru, I need you to fuck me already."

He swears under his breath.

"You can't just say things like that. Gonna fucking ruin you, you know that?"

Then suddenly, without warning, he thrusts two thick fingers deep into your dripping core. A silent scream falls from your lips at the stretch, back arching off the stairs.

Satoru sets a relentless pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you, while his tongue works on your clit. "Like this? Is this what you needed?"

"Yes, yes. More."

"Fuck, I need to be inside you," Satoru growls.

He withdraws his fingers abruptly, ignoring your whine of protest. You watch through hooded eyes as he hurriedly strips off his clothes, revealing inches of toned muscle.

When Satoru finally frees himself from the confines of his pants, you mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His length is impressive, long and thick, the smooth skin flushed a deep rose color. The broad head is shiny with moisture, a bead of clear fluid leaking from the tip.

Satoru wraps a large hand around himself, giving a slow stroke from root to tip. His cock throbs in his grip, another pulse of slick pre-cum dripping from the slit. He groans low in his throat, head tipping back momentarily at the sensation after so long spent straining against his zipper.

You watch transfixed as he pumps himself lazily, putting on a show. His fist twists over the head on every upstroke, smearing the leaking liquid to ease the glide.

"See what you do to me?" Satoru rasps, blue eyes boring into yours as his hand speeds up. "See how hard I am for you, how much I'm leaking? I've been like this all fucking night."

He swipes his thumb over the weeping tip, gathering the drops of pre-cum beading there. "Been thinking about this all night. I know you wore that skirt just for me, didn't you? Wanted to rile me up, tease me until I snapped?"

Then he's bringing his thumb to your lips, painting your bottom lip with his cum, parting your lips. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eyes never leaving him. Satoru's eyes darken as he watches you lick his cum from his fingertips.

"Mm, and what if I didn't? What if I put this skirt on for Suguru, hoping he'd be the one to take me home tonight?"

"Is that so? Well, tough luck. Couse I'm gonna stuff you so full with my cock you'll be ruined for anyone else. Gonna make it so you never forget who you belongs to."

"Oh really?" you challenge.

Licking your lips, you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the hot, silken skin and the way he throbs against your palm. Satoru hisses through his teeth at the contact, hips canting into your fist instinctively.

"Fuck, your hand feels good." He watches intently as you start to stroke him from root to tip. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You tighten your grip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Satoru groans, low and guttural, as another pulse of slick pre-cum leaks from his slit. You smear it with your thumb. Satoru's abs clench, his cock kicking in your grip.

You lean in to drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the thick vein there from base to tip. Satoru shudders, a broken moan spilling from his lips as you swirl your tongue around the leaking tip, lapping up the salty-bitter cum of his.

Desperate to be filled, you suck the broad head past your lips and tonguing at the sensitive underside.

Satoru's hips buck, forcing himself deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, relaxing your throat to take him as far as you can. Satoru's hands reach for your hair, fisting in the strands as he guides your movements. He rocks into your mouth, clearly holding back from truly fucking your face.

"So good, fuck, just like that. Taking me so well, so fucking good."

Saliva pools in your mouth, dripping down your chin as he works himself deeper into your throat. Your eyes water but you don't pull off. Just as you're starting to get lightheaded, lungs burning with the need for air, Satoru eases you off him with a groan.

A string of saliva connects your swollen lips to his cock for a heated moment before snapping. You gulp down air, staring up at him with watery eyes.

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me," Satoru rasps, thumb swiping tenderly at the spittle on your chin. "I could spend all night fucking you and never get enough."

"Then fuck me already," you say, before giving his length a parting long lick along the underside.

"Oh, I'll fill you up alright, Gonna stuff you so full with my cock you'll feel me for days."

With that, he takes himself in hand, rubbing the thick tip through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. He's not penetrating, not yet, just teasing you with the promise of it. The broad head of his cock catches on your entrance with every pass.

"Feel that, love? Feel how hard I am for you? How much I want to bury myself in this tight little cunt?"

You can only whimper in response. But Satoru holds firm, keeping his movements shallow and teasing. He drags the thick length of his shaft up through your folds, the underside rubbing against your clit.

"Satoru, please. Stop teasing. I need you inside me."

"Patience," he coos, even as his hips stutter slightly, betraying his own desperate need. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long, dreaming about having you spread out beneath me. At least let me torture you a little bit first."

He punctuates his words with another slow drag of his cock against you, the head notching into your entrance for a breathless second before sliding up to grind against your clit.

"Please," you whimper, past the point of caring how desperate you sound. "Please, I can't take it anymore. I need you, need to fuck me."

Satoru hisses through his teeth. "Fuck, the things you say," he groans, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "You have no idea what you do to me, how crazy you make me."

Despite his words, he doesn't relent, continuing his shallow thrusts, painting your folds with your combined arousal.

"I want to savor this," he breathes, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Want to feel every inch of you before I bury myself deep. Want you trembling and desperate, want you to fucking fall apart before I even get inside."

And oh, you're close, so dangerously close to doing just that.

Every slide of his cock against your clit sends sparks skittering up your spine, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

"Satoru, I can't... I need... oh fuck, please, please just fuck me, please."

Your desperate rambling seems to shatter the last of Satoru's restraint. He lines himself up and sinks into you in one smooth, powerful thrust, not stopping until he's buried to the hilt.

You've never felt so full, stuffed to the brim as he works himself deeper, inch by maddening inch. When he's fully seated, hips flush against yours, you both moan at the sensation. He's so deep like this, touching places inside you that have you seeing sparks.

For a moment, you just breathe together, foreheads pressed close, savoring the feeling of being connected so intimately. Then Satoru starts to move, and coherent thought becomes impossible.

He sets a deep, maddening rhythm, hips withdrawing nearly all the way before surging forward again. The drag of his cock inside you is intoxicating, hitting every sensitive spot, stroking the ache that's been building for what feels like hours.

Your nails rake down Satoru's back as he fucks you closer to the edge, leaving red lines in their wake. His pace quickens, thrusts becoming shorter and more focused, the sound of slapping skin echoing off the walls of the stairwell.

"Satoru," you moan, his name the only word you remember, the only one that matters. "Satoru, please, I'm so close…"

Bracing one hand against the stairs next to your head, he picks up speed, pounding into you faster, harder. The force of his thrusts threatens to push you up the steps, your head perilously close to banging against the hard surface.

You reach up, pushing your hands against the stairs above you for leverage, using the resistance to meet Satoru's increasingly powerful strokes.

"Fuck, just like that," he pants, blue eyes wild and heated as they bore into yours. "Take it, take every inch of me. Want to feel you come on my cock, want to feel you squeezing me so fucking tight."

His words, the relentless thrusts of his hips, the long drag of his shaft against your walls — it's all too much, too good. You can feel your orgasm building, ready to snap at any moment.

"Please," you whimper. "Please, I need… I need…"

"I know what you need, love."

He snakes a hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. He rubs your swollen clit in tight, focused circles, the added stimulation exactly what you need.

With one last deep thrust, the head of his cock kisses your cervix, and that's all it takes. Your body convulses around Satoru's plunging length.

Satoru works you through it, hips never faltering even as your spasming muscles threaten his control. He fucks you through your orgasm, grinding deep and rubbing your clit until you're shaking and sobbing.

Only when you collapse back against the stairs, boneless and spent, does he allow his own release to overtake him. With a last few erratic thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his thick cock pulsing as he spills deep inside you.

His fingers dig into your hips, surely leaving bruises, as he rides out his orgasm, hips stuttering and jerking with each pulse of his release. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, his movements slow, then still.

Satoru collapses forward, his trembling arms barely supporting his weight as he rests his forehead against yours. You both struggle to catch your breath, chests heaving.

"Fuck, that was... incredible," he pants before capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he straightens up, his softening cock still buried inside you. His heated gaze drifts down to where your bodies are joined. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out of you, coating his length and dripping down your thighs to pool on the stairs beneath you.

"God, that's so fucking hot."

With a shuddering exhale, he slowly pulls out of you, a low hiss escaping his lips at the drag of your walls against his oversensitive cock. His eyes remain locked on your well-used sex, watching as more of his cum leaks out of you.

"Look at you. So messy and full of my cum. So perfect."

Unable to resist, Satoru settles between your thighs once more, his broad shoulders pushing them even further apart. He takes a moment to admire the view before diving in again.

A moan spills from your lips as he drags the flat of his tongue over your sensitive core, lapping up the evidence of your coupling with long strokes. He hums against your core, the vibrations making you shudder and clench around nothing.

Satoru takes his time, cleaning every inch of you. His tongue delves between your folds, circling your entrance before dipping inside to chase the lingering taste of your combined releases.

"Could spend hours just like this," Satoru murmurs between licks. "Would you like that, love? Like me to keep you full and sloppy and dripping all night?"

"Satoru," you whimper, thighs trembling around his head as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. "I can't... it's too much..."

"Oh, I'm sure you can take one more. Just let me take care of you. I'm gonna make you feel so good."

He works his way inward, tongue tracing teasing circles around your entrance before delving inside. He laps at your walls, coaxing his own cum from your depths only to fuck it back into you with deep, sloppy strokes.

The wet sounds of his tongue between your legs fill the room, punctuated by your needy moans and gasps. Heat coils tight in your core once more despite your exhaustion.

Satoru feels you tense. "There she is. I knew my greedy girl had one more in her. Gonna give it to me, aren't you? Gonna come all over my tongue like a good girl."

His words set your blood on fire, a broken sob escaping your lips as he seals them around your clit once more. He sucks hard, tongue flicking rapidly over it as he fucks into you harder, faster.

"Ah, oh god. Satoru, please..."

Then, two thick fingers ease into you once again, curling forward to stroke that spot that makes your toes curl. He works them in tandem with his tongue, thrusting and scissoring and rubbing until you're keening his name, hips rolling mindlessly against his face.

His nose nudges against your oversensitive clit with every thrust, sending sparks shooting up your spine.

"Come on, love" he praises. "Ride my tongue, fuck yourself on my fingers. Want to feel you come all over me, want to taste you."

It only takes a few more purposeful strokes of his fingers and flicks of his tongue before you're come undone once again with a wordless cry, back bowing off the stairs as your walls clench and flutter around his fingers.

Satoru works you through it, pulling back just enough to watch your face contort. Only when the last aftershock fades does he ease his fingers free. Satoru presses a final, tender kiss to your clit before crawling up your body, pressing sloppy kisses to your sweat-dampened skin as he goes.

"You did so good for me, love, coming so hard for me. So perfect," Satoru praises, pressing kisses to your neck and chest as you try to catch your breath.

When he reaches your breasts, he palms them gently, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and making you gasp. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to your chest as he dips his head to take one nipple into his mouth once more.

He laves it with his tongue, swirling his tongue around it before he lavishes the same attention on your other breast, alternating between soft licks and lazy swirls, while his hand starts to dip lower.

"Satoru? What are you doing?"

Eventually, Satoru releases your nipple with a wet pop, soothing the ache with a final swipe of his tongue, his hand skating over your ribs and belly with clear intent.

He grins up at you, boyish and unrepentant. "What does it look like I'm doing? Maybe you've got one more in you, hmm?"

"Absolutely not. I'm fucking done, Satoru."

He pouts playfully, fingertips still tracing feather-light patterns on your lower belly. "Aw, come on, love. Just one more? I bet if I just…"

His hand starts to dip lower, fingertips just brushing your still-tingling clit. But before he can make contact, your foot plants itself firmly in the center of his chest and pushes him away. "Hands off, Satoru."

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," he says, hands raised in surrender. "No more orgasms for you. For now."

"You're impossible."

Satoru grins. "You love it."

"You wish."

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solxamber · 3 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Accidentally Falling For a Fae Prince - Malleus Draconia x reader

When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.

Series Masterlist

Work’s been a disaster from the moment you stepped in. Your boss, who makes dollar bills while you’re lucky to scrape together a few dimes, is in one of those moods. So, instead of pretending to be productive, you do what any rational person would do: you pull up a random webnovel website and let the ridiculousness wash over you.

And oh boy, is it ridiculous.

You start reading "The Villainess's Revenge: My Heart is Colder Than Lukewarm Tea!" and, within the first chapter, you realize it’s like watching cement dry—but with less plot development. The villainess is cartoonishly evil, stomping around in ballgowns with a sneer so exaggerated it’s a wonder her face hasn’t permanently locked in place. Her tragic backstory? She once got served lukewarm tea. And, oh no, she stepped in mud at a ball. The horror. Riveting stuff, truly.

Meanwhile, the heroine? She’s clearly phoning it in. Every scene she’s in, her eyes are dead inside like she’s as exhausted as you are by the sheer nonsense of the plot. If this girl could quit her own story, she would’ve done it yesterday. You can't help but mentally send her your condolences.

Then, there’s the male leads. If you can even call them that.

First, the Crown Prince, whose idea of a crisis is a fashion faux pas. This guy once canceled a whole wedding because his socks didn’t match. His spirals into existential crises every time a thread is out of place would be entertaining if it weren’t so tragic. The way he’s written, you swear he could kill a man with a critical stare over improper cufflinks.

Next up, the Duke. Brooding, romantic, and absolutely incapable of writing good poetry. Every time he spots the heroine, he launches into the worst rhymes you’ve ever heard. It’s so bad that you’re embarrassed for both of them. He follows her everywhere, reading his masterpieces at the most inappropriate times—like during a funeral. Who does that?

And finally, the Hero Knight. Ah, the knight. The epitome of overzealous stupidity. He turned grocery shopping into a three-day quest for the “Golden Lettuce of Destiny,” and vowed to defend the heroine’s honor from…nobody. You’d swear he’s larping 24/7. It’s exhausting just reading about him.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the heroine ends up in a polycule with all of them because the author was so sick of comments asking, “Who will she date?” that they just threw their hands up and went, “Fine, she dates everyone!” The heroine looks exhausted, and you feel for her. You feel for yourself, too, because reading this is actively lowering your IQ.

You sit there, flabbergasted, staring at the screen. This is what you’ve chosen to waste your time on? What’s worse, your boss will probably come around the corner any minute to scold you—oh wait, nope, the corner of the ceiling just gave out and bonk—there goes a chunk of plaster, right on your head.

You cannot believe this is how you get taken out.

You wake up and, somehow, it’s worse. You’re in a four-poster bed, covered in satin sheets, and your first thought is goddammit—you’ve been isekai’d. And not just into any world. That world. The webnovel.

You drag yourself out of bed, feeling a sudden wave of dread. You were the heroine in this mess. The heroine. Goddammit, why does everything bad only happen to you? For a moment, you're relieved you’re not the villainess. But then you remember: you’re stuck in a polycule with three absolute clowns.

Nope. Not happening. You will not end up with any of these pushy idiots. Goal one? Avoid the polycule at all costs.

Suddenly, the door flies open with a bang, and in burst all three male leads, dramatically weeping and crying out how you’ve been in a coma for so long. Their over-the-top emotions would be heartwarming if they weren’t so ridiculous.

“You’ve returned to us, my dearest flower of the kingdom!” the Crown Prince sobs, still perfectly dressed despite the tears streaming down his face. He sniffs and dabs his eyes with a handkerchief embroidered with his own face. Of course.

The Duke starts reciting the worst love poem you've ever heard, right there, in the middle of your room, as if you didn’t just wake up from a coma.

“I wandered, lost, like a daisy in a field of… uh… misery, because you, my sun, were hidden in the sky of my heart…” The rest is a blur because your brain has officially short-circuited.

And the Hero Knight? He’s already on his knees, swearing to protect you from whatever invisible threat he’s made up this time. “Fear not, fair lady! I shall defend thee against all who oppose your grace!”

You manage to kick all of them out of your room with a lot of effort and a lot of heavy glares. The moment you’re alone, you find a suicide note on the dresser, written by the actual heroine. Apparently, she drank poison just to get away from these weirdos.

What an icon.

But not you. You’re not dying again for these guys. No way.

You’re moving through the bustling market in full disguise, keeping an eye out for any knights or familiar faces. Your plan is simple: escape the polycule before any of those nutjobs track you down. With every step, you remind yourself that freedom is just one boat ride away—preferably to a distant land that has no idea who the Hero Knight, the Duke, or the crown prince are.

But as you round a corner, your thoughts scatter when you bump—quite literally—into something solid. You stagger back, blinking up at a tall figure dressed in all black. At first, panic flashes through you—please don’t be one of them—but when your eyes meet his, it’s not the Crown Prince, the Duke, or the Hero Knight.

It’s someone new. And he seems… perfectly pleasant. His strikingly elegant features, crowned by horns, should make him imposing, but his eyes soften as he looks at you. There’s an almost serene curiosity in them.

"Ah, forgive me," he says smoothly, his deep voice lilting with a formality that surprises you. "I didn’t see you there."

"No, no, it’s my fault," you reply, awkwardly waving your hands, trying to figure out why he’s so different from everyone else in this place. He’s polite. Polite. Already, you feel better about this encounter than you have about every conversation with the three other disasters that have been stalking you.

He steps aside, but instead of walking away, he looks around the marketplace with a faint, thoughtful frown. “I seem to have… lost my way,” he admits, glancing back at you. “This place is unfamiliar to me.”

Something in his tone, in the way his eyes briefly widen as he takes in the simplest market stalls—like he’s genuinely fascinated—makes you soften toward him. Ugh, bleeding heart strikes again. Before you know it, you find yourself asking, “Do you need help? I can… show you around.”

He turns his gaze back to you, and his lips quirk into the smallest, softest smile. “That would be most appreciated.”

As you walk together, he marvels at the simplest things—the fresh bread from a stall, the colorful fabrics, the scent of flowers sold at a cart. He’s curious about everything, eyes lingering on each sight like it’s the first time he’s ever seen such mundane wonders. His fascination is oddly endearing. It’s clear he’s not used to mingling in places like this, and his awe at the most normal things is… well, cute.

"Have you ever seen so many people in one place?" you ask, trying to fill the silence, though you’re surprised to find that you’re not uncomfortable around him.

He chuckles lightly. “Not in such a casual setting, no. It’s quite… charming. Everything feels so alive.”

You almost snort at the idea that this guy finds a basic market so thrilling, but you keep it in check. At least he’s not another drama king like the Crown Prince or a bad poet like the Duke.

It’s been a surprisingly pleasant afternoon until your luck inevitably runs out. You spot the familiar, impeccably dressed figure of the Crown Prince moving through the crowd with his knights. He’s scanning the area, and panic rises in your throat.

“Crap,” you mutter under your breath. Instinctively, you grab the man’s sleeve, tugging him down the nearest alley. “We need to go. Now.”

He blinks, looking puzzled but not resisting. “Is something wrong?”

Yes! you think, your mind flashing to the emotional wreck that is the prince. "No time to explain. Just trust me."

But you’re too late. The Crown Prince, in all his resplendent, overly perfect glory, catches sight of you just as you’re about to disappear into the shadows.

“Well, well,” the prince calls out with an overly bright smile. “If it isn’t my darling—oh!” His eyes widen as he finally notices the tall figure standing next to you. “Prince Malleus Draconia of Briar Valley!”

You blue screen.

Your grip loosens on Malleus’s sleeve as your brain sputters. Prince. Fae Prince. You’d just been casually chatting with the Prince of Briar Valley like he was some random lost guy? Did you seriously just… You internally spiral as the realization sinks in. Of course, he's a prince! The horns! The aura!

Malleus, for his part, remains calm and collected, inclining his head toward the Crown Prince. “Ah, it seems I’ve been found,” he says smoothly, completely unaware of the crisis currently happening inside your head.

The Crown Prince gives Malleus a florid bow, then immediately turns his attention back to you. “My dear, you shouldn’t be wandering the streets alone. Allow me to escort you to the palace.” His hand reaches out toward you, his smile practiced and princely, but your gut clenches with discomfort. No, nope, no thanks.

You step back instinctively, your unease written all over your face. Before you can even figure out how to politely decline without causing a scene, Malleus moves.

Malleus, who up until now was watching the exchange with mild curiosity, steps forward. His eyes narrow slightly as he looks the Crown Prince up and down. The prince stumbles over his words and backs away under the weight of Malleus’ stare.

The Crown Prince’s smile falters. He hesitates, glancing between you and Malleus, clearly unsure how to proceed. “I—um—of course, Prince Malleus, I didn’t mean to overstep,” he stammers, eyes darting nervously between the two of you.

You stand there, stunned, watching as Malleus’ mere presence makes the most annoyingly confident man in the kingdom back off. Is this real life?

The prince clears his throat awkwardly, then shoots you one last uneasy smile before making a swift retreat with his knights, leaving you standing there with Malleus.

You let out a long, relieved breath and glance up at him, feeling a little less like you’re about to lose your mind. “Thanks… for that.”

Malleus’ lips quirk into a tiny, knowing smile. “It was my pleasure.” He tilts his head, eyes still twinkling with that same curiosity from earlier. “Although, I must admit, I’m rather curious why you were so eager to avoid him.”

You laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. “Let’s just say… he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

You don't know how you’ve ended up in this mess. One minute, you’re lost in the market, trying to figure out how to escape this ridiculous polycule situation, and the next, you’ve been dragged into a carriage on your way to the palace—with the Crown Prince, your overly dramatic Knight, and the Fae Prince himself.

Malleus, the Fae Prince, had politely asked if you would accompany him to the palace, and in a panic, you said yes. Because, really, how could you admit to both him and the Crown Prince that you’d actually been planning to skip town? So now, here you are, sitting through the most awkward carriage ride of your life.

Your knight, perched beside you, clears his throat dramatically. “Fear not, my lady,” he says in a voice filled with too much gravitas for the situation. “I shall protect you from all perils! Should the wind itself dare to brush against your delicate frame, I shall strike it down with my blade! No harm shall come to you so long as I draw breath!”

You facepalm internally. Please. Stop talking.

The Crown Prince, sitting across from you, adjusts his cufflinks for the tenth time. “I must say,” he purrs, fishing for compliments, “this outfit is particularly resplendent today, don’t you think? The shade of royal blue brings out the depth in my eyes. It was hand-tailored, of course. What do you think, my dear?”

You blink at him, trying to process whether he’s serious. He is. He’s absolutely serious.

Malleus watches the exchange in silent confusion, his eyes flicking between the three of you as if trying to figure out if this is normal human behavior. After all, you’ve got one guy swearing to kill the breeze, another obsessed with his reflection, and you, trying to melt into the upholstery.

“Is this… how humans typically behave?” Malleus asks, his voice soft and genuinely curious.

You shake your head vigorously. “No. This is how clowns behave.” Malleus raises an eyebrow but seems satisfied with your answer, settling back into his seat.

When the carriage finally—finally—arrives at the palace, you’re barely holding onto your sanity. But things are about to get worse.

As you’re ushered into the meeting hall, a trio approaches you. It’s Lilia, Silver, and… Sebek.

Sebek, who looks one step away from a full-blown aneurysm.

"Lord Malleus!" Sebek practically screeches, running toward Malleus like the world was ending. “How could you wander off on your own?! Do you know how much chaos you caused?! I almost fainted from sheer terror!”

Malleus doesn’t even flinch. “I had a guide.” He gestures toward you.

Sebek’s eyes land on you, and you quickly glance around for an escape route. “YOU?! YOU DARED TOUCH—”

Before Sebek can finish, you spot the Duke—one of your many suitors and part of the delegation—striding toward you with his usual brooding expression. You instinctively grab onto Malleus’ sleeve for some comfort (or maybe protection from what’s about to come next).

The Duke’s eyes light up as he sees you, and then… he begins to recite. “Oh, my dearest, like the moon that doth gleam upon a cheese plate—no, wait—upon a field of… toes? Your hair, like the petals of wilted roses in the rain... um… and your eyes… they are like two potatoes, cooked to perfection…”

Even Sebek is speechless. You think you see a vein pop on his forehead, but for once, he’s too stunned to yell.

Lilia, standing beside Sebek, chuckles, amused. “Well, I have to say, that’s… quite something.”

Malleus tilts his head, blinking at the Duke’s strange poetry. “Are potatoes considered a form of flattery in human culture?”

“No,” you mutter. “No, they’re not.”

Just when you think things can’t possibly get more absurd, the meeting begins. Because you’re technically the daughter of a Duke, you’re forced to sit through the whole ordeal. They start discussing the logistics of showing the fae delegation around the city.

“We need someone trustworthy to act as a guide,” one of the officials says, glancing toward the Crown Prince.

Malleus, who had been quietly observing the room, suddenly speaks up. “I believe I’ve already found the perfect guide.”

You freeze. No. No, no, no.

“The young lady who helped me in the market,” Malleus continues, looking directly at you.

The room falls silent. You, of all people, are the last person who wants to be anywhere near the fae delegation or, worse, your insane suitors. But before you can even open your mouth to refuse, the Crown Prince starts.

“My dear,” he says, leaning forward with a princely grin, “while I understand you’ve already formed an acquaintance with Prince Malleus, perhaps it would be better for someone more… experienced to take on this role.” He flashes his most charming smile, which, after everything today, only makes you cringe.

But Malleus just stares at him, completely unbothered. “No. I want her as my guide.”

Silver shifts slightly, glancing at you with an expression you can’t quite place, while Lilia’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “How interesting,” Lilia murmurs, clearly entertained by the situation.

Sebek, however, explodes. “IF LORD MALLEUS WANTS HER AS HIS GUIDE, THEN SO BE IT!” He turns toward the Crown Prince, practically vibrating with anger. “YOU WILL NOT QUESTION HIS DECISION!”

The Crown Prince, for once, looks genuinely taken aback. “I—I meant no offense! Of course, whatever Lord Malleus desires…”

You sink into your chair, feeling like your last chance at a peaceful life just flew out the window. Malleus turns to you with an expectant, polite smile. “I look forward to our time together.”

You groan inwardly. How is this my life?

You had to admit, Malleus was really nice. When you compared him to the absolute circus of clowns you had to deal with, he was practically a gift sent from above. So, you made a decision—if you were going to be his guide, you were going to be the best guide ever. And once they wrapped up this whole diplomatic visit, you'd beg him to take you with him to Briar Valley, where hopefully, your ridiculous suitors would be very far away.

Apparently, being a guide also meant dragging him along to everything you did, including navigating high society. This was where things got tricky. The original heroine had endured these events like a pro, but you? You were just a lowly office worker who'd read bad webnovels to avoid work. Now you were living in one.

First stop: a tea party.

As you sit down with Malleus beside you—who’s awkwardly perched in a chair much too small for him—you scan the room. Of course, all three of your ridiculous suitors are here. The Crown Prince, obsessing over the intricate lace of his cravat. The Hero Knight, sharpening his sword for no reason in the middle of a garden party. And the Duke, scribbling poetry on a napkin with all the grace of a sleep-deprived teenager finishing their homework five minutes before class.

But this wasn’t just about them. This was also your first time meeting the so-called villainess.

The villainess arrived like a whirlwind of petticoats and extravagant headpieces, smiling in that "I'm about to ruin your whole existence" kind of way. You smiled back, trying not to look dead inside when she launched into a diatribe about ruffles.

"And you see," she said, flickering her wrist with an air of superiority, "it was positively scandalous! The seamstress gave me a gown with only forty ruffles. Can you imagine? What am I, a commoner?"

You tried to smile politely. Truly. But Malleus, seated beside you, was staring at her with this fascinated look, as if watching a rare bird display its feathers. You could tell he was having a hard time grasping what the point of her story was. So were you.

But then, of course, the conversation turned personal.

“And the Duke,” the villainess said with a sly smirk, “such a poetic soul. He deserves better than to pine over someone who clearly has no appreciation for his art. Don’t you think?”

You blinked. Was this woman for real? You glanced at the Duke, who had suddenly gone from scribbling to gazing at you with that awful puppy-dog look. The one that meant another horrible poem was probably brewing.

You couldn’t help it. The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Please take him.”

The villainess's eyes widened. “What?”

Malleus looked at you in amusement, while the Duke gasped dramatically, as if you’d just run him through with a sword.

You clasped your hands together and leaned forward earnestly. “Please, please take him. I don’t want him. At all. He’s all yours. You can have him—along with his potato-themed poems.”

The Duke visibly wilted. “But—! My lady! You—you wound me!”

“No, Duke, you wound me—with your terrible metaphors,” you deadpan. “And I’m begging you. Take him. Please. For the love of everything holy, I’m begging you.”

The villainess, probably for the first time in her life, looked completely flustered. “Are you… serious?”

“Absolutely,” you said, nodding. “I will sign papers. I’ll throw a party. I’ll—whatever it takes. Just… he’s yours.”

Malleus and Lilia were practically shaking with barely-contained laughter at this point, while the Duke had dropped to one knee, a napkin-clutched in his hand like some sad bouquet. “My poems… they were written with you in mind. Each line! Each stanza! Crafted from the depths of my heart!”

“Exactly,” you said, unblinking. “That’s why I need you to take him. Before he writes more.”

The villainess stared at you, completely dumbfounded. Then, after a pause, she broke into a smile. “Well, I’ve never had a man gifted to me before. I suppose I can make an exception.”

You felt like you could cry with relief. “Thank you.”

And just like that, your beef with the villainess was squashed. You traded your tragic suitor for peace of mind, and the villainess, now on the receiving end of the Duke’s “affections,” seemed pleased with her new prize.

Malleus leaned in, his voice low but filled with amusement. “I must say, you handled that quite well.”

You sighed, finally able to relax. “I handled that with desperation.”

And just like that, you’d rid yourself of two your problems. Now… to figure out how to survive the other two without losing your sanity.

You barely had time to process your victory over one villainess before a second one spawned out of nowhere like this was some kind of twisted video game. The Isekai Overlords clearly weren’t done with you yet. And this one? Oh, she was worse. The Crown Prince’s younger sister—spoiled princess extraordinaire—who genuinely believed her father was the reason the sun rose in the morning.

But, to your surprise, she didn’t even care about you. Like, at all. She acted like you didn’t even exist. Honestly? You were grateful. At least you could blend into the background this time and—oh no. Oh no.

She was making a beeline straight for Malleus.

You watched, horrified, as the princess latched onto him, throwing herself at him like he was a rare limited-edition collectible and not, you know, the Prince of Briar Valley and one of the most powerful beings in the world. Malleus shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to handle the situation, while Sebek was being barely restrained by Lilia and Silver. Lilia, of course, had that mischievous glint in his eye, like he was enjoying the whole ordeal.

You, on the other hand, were not enjoying it. You could practically see your retirement plans shriveling up in front of you—this had diplomatic nightmare written all over it. If Malleus so much as sneezed, you were pretty sure this princess would declare war on Briar Valley.

So, you did the only thing you could think of: you stepped in.

“Um, excuse me, Your Highness,” you said, stepping between the princess and Malleus. “Could you maybe… not cling to him like he’s a handbag?”

She turned to you with a look of utter disdain, like you were a fly she was too annoyed to swat away. “And who are you, exactly?”

Before you could answer, she pointed an accusatory finger at you. “I challenge you to a duel! For his hand!”

You blinked. “Bro, what?”

The princess huffed. “For the hand of Prince Malleus, of course! You think I didn’t see you fawning over him?”

“Fawning? I’m literally just his guide!” You gestured to Malleus, who, for some reason, looked almost giddy. “I’m not dating him, we’re not engaged, and if you push it, we’re maybe friends.”

Malleus practically beamed at the word “friends.” Was he… happy about this? About being defended like some damsel in distress? You were defending the most powerful fae in existence, and here he was, looking like you just made his entire year.

Sebek and Silver immediately stepped forward, but before they could say anything, Malleus raised a hand. “No. I would like to see how my guide—and friend—defends my honor.”

Your brain short-circuited. What?!

The princess smirked, clearly thinking she had you cornered. “Prepare yourself for the duel then! My personal knight will face you.”

You glanced at the knight, a towering figure who looked like he’d been training for war since birth, and then back at the sword that had been thrust into your hands. This was not how you imagined your day going. You hadn’t even touched a sword before. Meanwhile, your opponent was stretching like this was a warm-up exercise.

Still, you had no choice. With a deep breath and the knowledge that you were about to make a complete fool of yourself, you stepped forward, sword held awkwardly in front of you.

The duel began.

The knight lunged at you with a practiced, fluid motion. You, on the other hand, tripped over a rock, accidentally ducking his strike, and in your flailing attempt to stay upright, the hilt of your sword smacked him right in the face.

There was a collective gasp from the audience.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath.

The knight staggered, his face scrunched in confusion. He tried again, this time swinging from the side. You managed to parry—purely out of luck—and in the process, tripped forward, sending your sword clattering out of your hands and somehow knocking the knight’s legs out from under him. He fell to the ground with a thud.

Dead silence followed.

You stood there, frozen, your sword lying a few feet away. The knight was on his back, staring up at the sky, clearly bewildered by what had just happened. You hadn't even swung properly!

Lilia burst out laughing. “My, my! That was quite the duel! You’ll have to take responsibility now.”

“Responsibility?” you echoed, flustered beyond belief. “For what? I just—he tripped! I tripped! That wasn’t even—”

“Exactly,” Lilia teased. “You won the duel. Now you must take responsibility for defending Prince Malleus’ honor so valiantly.”

Malleus, looking thoroughly impressed, gave you a small, pleased smile. “Indeed. You have my gratitude.”

The princess, meanwhile, was gaping at you like she couldn’t believe what just happened. “This… this is an outrage!”

You sighed, feeling utterly exhausted. “Look, I didn’t even want to duel in the first place. Can’t we just—call it a day? I’ve had enough of knights and duels and—” You gestured vaguely to Malleus. “I’m not even dating him.”

Malleus’ smile widened. “But we are friends.”

Lilia chuckled. “Ah, young love is so complicated.”

You shot him a glare. This was not what you signed up for. But hey, at least you won the duel—somehow.

You were lounging in your mansion’s parlor, the day blissfully uneventful for once. The warm sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a cozy glow over the room. Malleus was mid-conversation—no, scratch that—mid-rant about gargoyles. To your surprise, you were actually kind of into it.

“And that’s the primary difference between gargoyles and grotesques,” Malleus continued passionately. “You see, gargoyles are not merely decorative but also functional, designed to channel water away from the structure, whereas grotesques, while similar in appearance, serve no such purpose. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

You nodded, intrigued, and cut in with a genuine question. “Wait, so is the functionality the only difference? Like, are they made from the same material?”

Malleus blinked, slightly taken aback that you were not only listening but actively participating. “Yes, precisely. They are often carved from the same stone, but it’s their purpose that sets them apart. For example, in the southern—” He paused, seeming to catch himself, suddenly looking sheepish. “Ah, forgive me. I fear I’ve been talking too much.”

Sebek nearly jumped out of his seat, eyes wide with horror. “Lord Malleus! Everything you say is perfect! Don’t apologize for sharing your magnificent knowledge!”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No, really, I enjoy it,” you said, waving off Malleus’ concerns. “I mean, how often do you get to talk about something so niche with someone who knows this much about it? I actually have a question—do any of the gargoyles in the Briar Valley have, like, historical significance? Like ones that are still functioning after all this time?”

Malleus lit up, and he launched right back into it, going on about ancient gargoyles in the Briar Valley that had withstood the test of time. He even started comparing the craftsmanship of various eras, and to your own surprise, you threw in a few comments about architecture and water systems, things you barely remembered from some random articles you’d read ages ago.

Halfway through a comparison of Gothic versus Renaissance gargoyle styles, a soft knock interrupted. Your maid entered, bowing slightly. “My lady, pardon the interruption, but we need your guidance with something in the kitchens.”

You sighed but smiled, pushing yourself off the couch. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let them bully you into leaving the gargoyle talk,” you teased as you walked out, completely unaware of the effect your comment had left behind.

As soon as the door closed, Malleus stood there, momentarily speechless. His pale cheeks took on the faintest hint of color, and his eyes were wide, as if someone had just smacked him with a metaphorical brick of emotions. The prince of Briar Valley, the most powerful creature in existence, was blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

Lilia, ever the mischievous one, was already grinning from ear to ear, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, well, well… isn’t this interesting?” he purred, barely suppressing a chuckle.

Silver raised an amused brow, casting a side glance at Malleus. “It’s not every day we see him blush.”

Sebek, on the other hand, was utterly baffled but still overjoyed at seeing his lord smiling so widely. “Of course Lord Malleus is happy!” Sebek exclaimed proudly, though there was a trace of confusion in his voice. “He’s been honored with your presence and your rapt attention, as is only right! I just—” Sebek glanced around, as if trying to understand the subtle undercurrent in the room, “—I don’t understand why he’s so… red?”

Lilia patted Sebek on the back, barely holding in his laughter. “Oh, Sebek, my boy. This is what happens when someone gets the attention they’ve long desired.”

Malleus cleared his throat, trying—and failing—to compose himself. “I’m merely… pleased,” he said, though his blush betrayed him. “It’s rare to find someone who listens so attentively.”

Lilia chuckled softly. “Yes, and who knows the difference between gargoyles and grotesques, I imagine. Quite the match for you, wouldn’t you say?”

Malleus, flustered beyond belief, gave Lilia a sidelong look but said nothing, clearly more preoccupied with the strange warmth blooming in his chest.

By the time you returned, unaware of the scene you’d left behind, Malleus was still trying to gather himself. Lilia shot you a knowing smile, and Silver just gave you a look like you have no idea what’s happening, do you? Sebek, as always, continued to beam with unshakable loyalty to his blushing lord.

But hey, at least Malleus was happy—really happy.

It all started innocently enough—you were having dinner with Malleus, Sebek, Lilia, and Silver. Sebek was, as usual, going on one of his rants about how absolutely divine Malleus was, Lilia was being cryptic and vaguely mischievous, and Silver was dozing off between courses.

You, being the delightful disaster that you were, cracked a joke between bites. “Honestly, if Sebek praises Malleus any more, we might as well commission a statue of him—complete with an audio loop of Sebek’s praises.”

Malleus laughed. Actually laughed. It was such a rare sound, deep and rich, and when you heard it, your heart stuttered in your chest like someone had just jabbed you with a lightning bolt.

Oh no.

You knew, from that very moment, you were in deep, deep shit.

From that point on, everything Malleus did made it impossible for you to act normal around him. His laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he found something amusing, the warmth in his voice when he spoke to you—how had you not noticed before? And now, every time Lilia even looked at you, it was with this knowing, mischievous grin, like the universe had finally granted him the entertainment he’d been waiting for all these centuries.

“This,” Lilia said one day, leaning in conspiratorially with a grin that could light up a room, “this is what I’ve lived so long for.”

And to make matters worse, it wasn’t just your mind tormenting you. Oh no. It was like the entire world was in on the joke. You could practically see sparkles in the air every time Malleus so much as glanced your way. Sparkles, for crying out loud. Your heart was in critical danger.

Your solution? Avoid him.

But it wasn’t that simple. You tried hiding behind furniture, ducking into bushes, and even feigning an incredibly inconvenient bout of food poisoning just to avoid being near him. One time, you spotted Malleus coming down the hall and, in a blind panic, dove behind a potted plant. The plant was tiny. You were not. Somehow, you thought it would work.

It didn’t. Malleus casually walked over, spotted you crouching awkwardly behind the plant, and said, “Is there something wrong with that shrubbery? Should I summon someone to tend to it?”

Another time, you attempted to “sneak” out of the palace by pretending you were a passing merchant. You wore a very large hat and wrapped yourself in an oversized cloak. Malleus found you immediately.

“Aren’t you feeling a bit warm in that?” he asked, blinking at your ridiculous ensemble.

He had fae hearing. He could always find you.

Even guiding him around town became a disaster. How were you supposed to be a competent host when all you could think about was how unfairly hot he was? Every word he said carried this charming, ancient elegance, and here you were, a flustered mess with zero composure.

Lilia? Still having the time of his life. He was practically choking on his laughter at this point. Silver, somehow, slept through most of your crises, and Sebek was just thrilled Malleus was spending so much time with him (though he was clearly confused about why you were acting so weird).

Finally, you had enough. One night, under the cover of the moon, you snuck into the garden with the determination of someone completely done with their own suffering. You found a flower—granted, you didn’t know what it was, but it looked nice—and you marched up to Malleus, who was out enjoying the evening air, blissfully unaware of the emotional train wreck headed his way.

“I need to say something!” you blurted, shoving the flower toward him.

Malleus took the flower carefully, glancing down at it. His expression shifted from curious to… mildly concerned? “This flower,” he said slowly, “is traditionally used in Briar Valley to signify deep betrayal…”

You blinked. Oh god.

“No, wait! I didn’t mean—!” you stammered, but before you could backtrack, your brain decided it had had enough. You blurted out the truth, no holds barred: “I like you, okay?! I’ve been a mess for weeks because of how ridiculously perfect you are, and I’m tired of avoiding you and hiding behind plants! So there!”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Malleus stared at you, his eyes wide with shock, and then, much to your surprise (and relief), he broke into the widest smile you’d ever seen on him. It was like the moon had just gotten brighter.

“You’re confessing… to me?” he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine joy.

“Yes,” you groaned, face burning with embarrassment. “Now please reject me so I can go lie in a ditch somewhere.”

But instead of rejection, you got happy dragon noises. Malleus gently pulled you into his arms and, with a voice full of affection, declared, “You are mine, then. From this day forward, you are my beloved.”

Cue your soul leaving your body.

When you broke the news to your father the next day, the poor Duke nearly fainted at the sight of the Prince of Briar Valley standing there, flanked by Silver, Sebek, and Lilia, the former general grinning like the Cheshire cat.

The Duke was intimidated—terrified, really—and quickly agreed to let the courtship proceed. But there was a catch.

“You’ll have to tell the Crown Prince and the Hero Knight yourself,” your father said, his face pale. “I’m not getting involved in that.”

Your retirement plans had officially died.

Despite all the chaos that had entered your life since becoming Malleus's beloved, you had to admit—there were perks. One of those was what you’d come to call "fae luck." It became especially apparent during a particularly tense diplomatic meeting involving the fae, the beastmen, and your kingdom.

The room was filled with strained conversations, the kind of diplomacy that could either result in peace or war, depending on how fragile the egos in the room were. You were sitting between Malleus and the second prince, doing your best to avoid looking at the first prince, who had already been giving you way too much attention for comfort.

Then it happened.

The first prince, ever the picture of grace, rose to speak. As he took his first step forward… THUD. He tripped spectacularly, arms flailing, and landed directly in the lap of the Beastmen Queen. There was a collective gasp, and for a heartbeat, you thought maybe this could be saved—until he opened his mouth.

“Well, I guess I’ve… fallen for you!”

Silence.

The Beastmen Queen's expression froze. The fae delegation collectively facepalmed, and you could practically feel the tension suffocating the room.

And then the Beastmen were on their feet, growling and demanding the immediate removal of the first prince from the line of succession. One of their diplomats, fur bristling with indignation, roared, “This is an insult to our Queen! Remove this fool from the throne!”

Instead of apologizing, as a normal, sane person might have, the first prince, face red with embarrassment, dug himself even deeper. “It was a joke! Can’t you beastmen take a joke? Honestly, I don’t see why everyone’s so sensitive.”

The Beastmen's amger intensified, and you saw the Emperor and Empress—who had been trying desperately to maintain order—sink deeper into their seats, their expressions a mix of horror and resignation. The entire room was teetering on the brink of an international incident.

And then… you spotted it.

A little green wisp, barely visible, flitting through the air right around where the prince had been standing before his magnificent face-plant.

You glanced toward Malleus, who was sitting beside you, looking perfectly composed, save for the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Beside him, Lilia gave you a knowing wink, his mischievous grin unmistakable.

They caused this.

Within moments, the decision was made: the first prince was officially removed as heir to the throne. His younger brother, the second prince—who had always been calm, composed, and infinitely more capable—was declared the new Crown Prince.

It was glorious.

But before you could celebrate, the first prince turned toward you, his expression sour and filled with desperation. "You—" he began, as if about to drag you into his misery.

Not today, prince.

Finally given the chance to reject him properly, you rose from your seat, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh as you faced him.

“I’ve been waiting so long to say this,” you began, crossing your arms and locking eyes with him. “I reject you. Completely. Wholly. Utterly. There is not a single fiber in my being that has ever been remotely interested in you. In fact, the only thing that’s ever kept me in proximity to you was the sheer necessity of survival.”

The first prince’s mouth opened, but you weren’t done.

“Remember all those times you made those comments about my ‘station’ and how ‘lucky’ I was to be considered by you?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything back then because I was too polite, but now? No thanks. Absolutely not. I would rather spend a century in the swamps than a minute more listening to you.”

Sebek, of all people, burst into laughter. “She’s got a point!” he managed between snickers. Lilia was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and Silver, barely awake, gave a lazy thumbs-up in support.

Malleus, meanwhile, looked positively enchanted. His eyes sparkled as he watched you lay into the former prince, pride and affection written all over his face. When you were done, he leaned toward you, murmuring with a soft smile, “I do love seeing you stand up for yourself.”

The first prince, his face red with humiliation, stammered, “You can’t speak to me like that!”

“Oh, but I just did,” you replied with a sweet smile. “And you know what? It felt amazing.”

With that, the first prince slunk away, his tail metaphorically between his legs, while the room buzzed with whispered laughter. Even the Beastmen, who had been ready to rip the prince to shreds, seemed satisfied.

You had never felt more victorious. Malleus looked at you with such adoration, and Lilia… well, Lilia looked like he was already planning his next round of mischief.

It was a good day.

The festival was going about as smoothly as a cat in a bathtub. You were trying to act like you weren’t hopelessly entangled with the most dangerously attractive fae prince in existence, while also managing to survive the company of your absurd entourage.

Sebek was marching around, loudly reminding anyone within earshot of his unwavering devotion to Lord Malleus. His eyes would dart to you occasionally, like he was calculating whether you were worthy of being in the same airspace as his revered master. Silver, half-asleep, was keeping one lazy yet disturbingly sharp eye on you, while Lilia was in his element—practically vibrating with amusement, like he was waiting for you to trip and fall into a cauldron of chaos.

And then there was the Hero Knight. This guy had shown up uninvited, all shiny armor and noble delusions, insisting he protect you from… something? Yourself? Malleus? Winning too many festival games?

“Are you sure you’re safe?” the Hero Knight asked, sidling up far too close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve heard stories about these fae festivals. One wrong step, and you’ll be cursed to dance for a hundred years, or worse—turned into a tree.”

You squinted at him. “Right. I’ll make sure to avoid the face-painting booth. Wouldn’t want to end up as a shrub for eternity.”

Malleus, ever patient, simply raised an eyebrow, as if contemplating whether this so-called Hero Knight was worth the oxygen he was breathing. Lilia, meanwhile, was biting his lip to stop from laughing.

But then, amid your rising frustration, you spotted it: the holy grail of festival prizes. The gargoyle plushie.

It wasn’t just any gargoyle plushie. It was perfect. Chunky, with tiny wings and a slightly disgruntled expression, it radiated the exact energy you associated with Malleus—regal, intimidating, yet somehow huggable.

You pointed at it like you’d just discovered a hidden treasure. “I need that.”

Malleus, ever-attentive, followed your gaze and smiled softly. “Do you desire the gargoyle?”

“Obviously! It’s basically you in plushie form,” you said, already walking toward the game stall. “But, you know, it’s rigged. All festival games are.”

Malleus watched you with his trademark elegant amusement. “Perhaps I can—”

“No, no,” you interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m winning this fair and square. No fae magic, no dragon lord intervention. Just pure skill.”

You grabbed the darts, took a deep breath, and began your assault on the rigged game. It wasn’t easy. The darts bounced, the targets mocked you, and you could feel the Hero Knight hovering over your shoulder like a bad itch.

“Are you sure this is wise?” the Hero Knight asked again, his voice dripping with concern. “This feels like a trap. What if they’ve enchanted the darts? What if—”

You whirled on him, fed up. “Listen, Sir Gallant-with-too-much-hair-gel, it’s a dart game. Not an assassination plot. If I can survive dealing with you, I think I can handle a few rigged targets.”

Lilia absolutely lost it. He doubled over, wheezing in laughter, while Silver let out an amused snort. Even Sebek looked like he was struggling not to smirk, though he quickly composed himself.

Malleus, ever regal, simply smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I have faith in your abilities, my dear.”

Fueled by that comment—and the knowledge that the Hero Knight was slowly losing what remained of his dignity—you managed to hit the final target. The plushie was yours.

Triumphantly, you grabbed the gargoyle and turned to Malleus. “For you.”

Malleus, to your utter delight, looked genuinely touched. His eyes softened, and that rare, warm smile appeared. “You won this for me?”

“Obviously,” you said, trying not to melt under his gaze. “A prince should have his own gargoyle.”

Silver, who had been observing the entire scene with increasing clarity despite his usual drowsiness, raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

Sebek, who was still processing the fact that you’d just casually given his lord a gargoyle plushie, grunted. “You… you truly care for Lord Malleus.”

Before you could say anything, the Hero Knight, still floundering, piped up. “Well, I could’ve won that gargoyle too, you know. If you wanted to—”

“Oh, please,” you cut him off, turning to the Knight. “You probably would’ve asked the stall vendor to throw in a manual on ‘How to Not Be a Total Wet Blanket at Festivals.’”

Lilia nearly collapsed. “Oh, please stop—I can’t—” he gasped, clearly having the time of his life.

You waved him off and turned back to Malleus, who was still holding the plushie with the same reverence one might reserve for an ancient relic. “Shall we continue?”

Next up was a couple’s game. You had no intention of participating—until you noticed the Hero Knight gearing up to suggest that he join in to protect you. Oh no. Not today. You grabbed Malleus’ arm and dragged him into the game, completely ignoring the Knight’s sputtering objections.

“It’s… it’s traditionally for couples…” Silver noted, giving you a look that clearly said, I see what’s happening here.

You ignored him too.

The game was simple enough: throw rings onto bottles, but for some reason, the tension was palpable. Probably because you were standing next to one of the most powerful beings in existence, and you’d dragged him into a ridiculous couples’ game in front of his overly protective retinue.

But you won. And to rub salt in the Hero Knight’s ego, you fed Malleus one of the sweets you’d won.

“Y-You!” Sebek spluttered, looking as though you’d just committed the highest treason against decorum. “Feeding Lord Malleus… this… this is too much!”

The Hero Knight, on the other hand, looked utterly baffled. “Are you… are you sure that’s safe? What if the sweets are—”

“I swear, if you don’t stop, I’m going to feed you to the fairies,” you hissed, snapping the sweet in half and popping it into Malleus’ mouth. He smiled as he ate it, clearly enjoying himself.

By the time the fireworks started, you had somehow survived the night without murdering the Hero Knight. The sky exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors, and for a brief moment, it was peaceful.

And then, without thinking, you kissed Malleus.

There was a split second of stunned silence. And then all hell broke loose.

Sebek let out a screech that could rival a banshee. “My Lord! My Lord!” His voice cracked in disbelief, but then—surprisingly—he softened. “If… If Lord Malleus must fall for a human, I am glad it is someone… as devoted as you. My lady.”

You looked at him, touched. “Thank you, Sebek.”

Silver gave a rare smile, looking both amused and resigned. “Congratulations. You’ve managed to pull this off somehow.”

Lilia, predictably, was still dying of laughter, barely able to breathe between fits of wheezing.

And the Hero Knight? He looked like someone had just told him vampires were real and lived next door. “This… I… What…?”

You turned to him with a smile that could cut steel. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve been trying to tell you for months that I wasn’t interested. I’d rather kiss a gargoyle than you—actually, no. The gargoyle’s got more charm. Better conversation skills too.”

Lilia was full-on cackling now, leaning against a festival stall for support as the Hero Knight’s dignity shriveled up into nothingness.

Malleus, looking absolutely radiant, wrapped an arm around your waist. “Shall we depart? I believe we have a kingdom to return to.”

The next day, you stood with Malleus and his merry band of chaos, bidding farewell to your parents and butler. The Duke was still recovering from the heart attack Malleus had given him when he asked for your hand in courtship.

As you waved to your family, Malleus gently took your hand, leading you toward the carriage that would take you to Briar Valley.

“Well,” you muttered as you glanced back one last time, “this story of mine took a weird turn.”

Lilia, still grinning like a fiend, chimed in. “Oh, just wait until the sequel.”

The last thing you heard as the carriage rolled away was the Hero Knight muttering in the distance, “I could’ve won that gargoyle…”

You smiled. Maybe the webnovel wasn’t such a disaster after all.

Ahh I hope y'all like this one, malleus is one of my favs and I had so much fun writing him.

The Kalim one is being edited because it's a little too somber for me and I wanna make it a little more fun and Azul one is almost fully edited too!

So, here's a poll for the one after these. (They'll all get a turn)

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x you #malleus x you #isekai #trash novel chronicles #fem reader

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peachedtv · 1 year ago

Text

DOUBLE STUFFED ft. Bully!Satoru Gojo + Bully!Suguru Geto

✰ KINKTOBER 2023 SPECIAL...

✰ SUMMARY: Satoru and Suguru never meant to piss you off, but how could they stop when your reactions would always be so pretty? How could they stop when your reactions to more intimate things would be even better?

✰ CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, female!reader, bully!satosugu x reader, noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, multiple rounds, double penetration (anal and v), porn with some plot, marking, biting, semi-public sex (empty classroom), mentions of forced exhibitionism, breast/nipple play, degradation, fingering, squirting, cum eating, oral (fem and male receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, p in v sex, biting, minor blood, crying, creampie, unprotected sex, just a shit load of nasty fucking 😋

✰ WORD COUNT: 7.5k (WTFF)

✰ AUTHOR'S NOTE: having the most insane bully!satosugu brain rot to cope with mfing school

✰ MASTERLIST.

As much as you could hide it well, Satoru and Suguru really pissed you off.

You glare at Satoru, your hair completely drenched and your uniform in disarray. If you were naive, you would’ve mistaken Satoru for accidentally bumping into you and shoving you backward into the fountain as an unfortunate event. Perhaps the first time it could have been. Perhaps the second was just bad luck. Although, by this point, he had shoved you into the pond every single time you were tasked with feeding the school’s koi fish—and you were not some idiot to miss the way Satoru would hold back a snicker as he offered you a hand out of the fountain.

“You okay? My bad, Himiko.” You see Suguru snort from behind him, his palm covering his mouth as Satoru tries to maintain a sorry excuse for a poker face. It was obvious he was calling you by the wrong name to piss you off, to really degrade you down into your place. But what could you do?

“My name is Y/N..” You mumble, refusing his hand with a lithe wave as you stand up with a light shiver, hugging your arms to your chest, consequently squishing your boobs together in a way that has Suguru's eyes wandering to your cleavage. Your uniform was utterly soaked, hugging tightly to your body, and you held back a frown. Honestly, half the reason why Satoru loved to torment you this way was for the view he’d get. Stupid little you wouldn’t even realize your pink lacy bra would be on full display when your thin blouse turned transparent from the water. For a moment, he’d forget to even reply to your correction, prying eyes hidden behind his sunglasses as they traced from your breasts down to the way your skirt hugged your ass, admiring the way that the water dripped from between your legs could be mistaken so lewdly without proper context.

“Oh, right. My bad, Y/N.” He’d play off, patting your head and picking up the packet of fish food from the edge of the fountain, placing it idly onto a stone.

You felt your heart burn, your hands tightening into fists. Satoru really loved seeing you hold back your insults, a smile spreading across his lips every time you had to pause and take a deep breath to regain your composure after his antics—and there was a reason why you never snapped at them, a reason why you always bit your tongue.

Satoru and Suguru weren’t just your average high school fuck boys. Everyone knew Satoru as the closest thing man could get to being god, attributed to his precociously stupid six eyes and infinite void. Even with his status as a student, he still surpassed the strength of his instructors, borderline toying with them during practice spars, directly toying with his seniors during missions, and mercilessly fucking with you at any moment he could get. His power, his status, the admiration, all this built his sky-high ego that fueled a stupid smirk that could never be wiped off his face. Everyone respected him. He was a newborn pillar of the Jujutsu world, after all. And how could little you stand up against that?

Meanwhile, Suguru stood as Satoru's right-hand man. Suguru was Satoru's 'angel' on his right shoulder, the one who would talk Satoru into a foreign concept of mercy. Despite that, the man still found a certain level of amusement at your disarray. Suguru held an excessive amount of reputation alongside his white-haired friend. With his stupid amount of cursed energy, paired with his cursed spirit manipulation, his ever-growing strength paralleled any of the faculty at Jujutsu Tech. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest. Thus, how could you bite back at their antics when even the teachers kissed the ground they walked upon, too fearful to scold them without fearing for the end of their careers.

It was the way that you bit your tongue against them that was the funniest part. Reactions, that's what they fed off of. Your reaction when you were shoved into the fountain, a yelp slipping past your lips before you'd be absolutely drenched, flailing to pull your skimpy skirt over your ass. The same skirt they bribed the teachers into giving you a size too small because 'the school ran out'. Your reaction when Satoru would accidentally slam his shoulder against yours, causing you to swear it was no big deal before you'd pout as you picked up your things. Satoru and Suguru found themselves entranced in the way you'd react to things: to stress, to annoyance, to teasing. They wanted to see more and more of your sweet little expressions.

Satoru and Suguru weren't just your average high school fuck boys, but you were beginning to lose your mind, you were beginning to not care of whatever reputation and power they had.

It didn't start off tame, but it still managed to rapidly skid downhill. Satoru and Suguru's antics kept progressing further and further, pushing your boundaries and dignity to the limit. At first, there was a minor jump from physical annoyances, such as 'accidental' shoulder bump, developing into more verbal degradations. Suguru would slip one of his cursed spirits into the door of the classroom, fumbling with the key pins until you were trapped inside.

"Oh, is poor little Y/N stuck?" Satoru would smile, his six eyes watching through the door as you would desperately toy with the knob, eyebrows furrowed. "Please, just open the door, Satoru! I have a club meeting today." You frowned, lips pouty as you looked to the door pleadingly, unknowing that Satoru was feeding off your helpless and frustrated expressions.

"Why don't you ask nicely?" A smirk spread across Satoru's lips, he could practically taste the humiliation rising inside you.

"What?" Your voice was trailed off, faint. You knew it was needless questioning for clarification as if you hadn't heard Satoru as clear as day.

"Beg us to open the door. Come on now, I know the weak usually have experience begging for their lives, use that skill in a different aspect. You're a smart girl, no?" Suguru chimed in. You felt the back of your neck burn with embarrassment. There was no way they were being serious, right? You glance to the clock. 16:52, your meeting was set to start in 8 minutes.

"Guys, please. Not today, I really need to get goi-"

"That doesn't sound like begging. Now does it, Suguru?" Satoru cut you off, his voice dismissive. Suguru smiled. "No, you're right there, Satoru." You fell silent. The minute hand ticked. 16:53.

"...please open the door." You said flatly, resting your forehead against the door with your hand weakly hanging off the knob. You were growing tired. Tired of their antics.

"You can do better than that." Satoru snorted. The door slightly sank towards you, likely as a result of Satoru leaning his back against it. You bit the inside of your cheek, gripping your hands into fists. You had the power to break down the door. To shove past them. To curse them out. It was becoming too much to hold back. You swear under your breath, sliding your palm down your face to recollect before you let out a deep sigh.

"...please, Satoru. Please, Suguru. I'm begging you to open the door." You tried to lace as much emotion into your speech, but it still held an undertone of absolute irritation that anyone wouldn't be able to miss. Still, the door clicked, sliding open. "See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" Satoru leaned over you, towering as he smirked, his hands dug deep into his pockets. You frown at him, pushing past him and Suguru as your shoes tap against the wooden floors to get to your meeting.

"Cute, wasn't that?"

"You're right on that."

You didn't think it could get worse. Although, the devil truly knew how to make things work. The devil being Satoru and Suguru.

Quickly, the two's antics would turn purely humiliating. They'd have you beg to be let out of locked closets, classrooms, bathrooms, and storage rooms, until it was having you kneel in front of them and apologizing for bumping into Satoru even if it was obviously your right of way. You'd keep your palms resting on your knees, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up to Satoru with your doe eyes, speaking a soft apology with shame rising heat to your cheeks. Your fingers would fiddle together, nails digging into your skin to try and push past the embarrassment. There was a brace of silence in the classroom after you mumbled your apology. Satoru stood tall in front of you, while Suguru leaned against the teacher's podium with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"You know, I don't think sorry is enough anymore." Your chin picks up to look at Suguru with widened eyes. "What..?"

"I think you're right," Satoru added, kneeling down to you as he took your chin between his fingers, redirecting your gaze to him. "You've been causing so much trouble for us, no? I believe you need a better way to make it up to us this time." Satoru's voice was silky, his head tilting as he spoke, eyes trailing down to your neck, collarbones, before resting his gaze on your breasts. You felt confused, and for some reason, your heart began to sink down into your stomach. "How do I make it up to you?" You were hesitant, slow, your voice hiding back its quiver. Satoru smiled.

You choked out a sob, stifled by the fat cock nudging into the depths of your throat. Satoru's hand held your hair back tightly, your scalp burning as he carefully thrust into your face and used your hair as leverage. You blinked through a build of tears, hands weakly pushing against his thighs to try and tell him to let up, to not fuck his cock so deep into your face. With a particularly forceful thrust, the tip of Satoru's dick punches into the back of your throat, your esophagus contracting as you gagged. Satoru held you firmly in place, and tears began to fill into the corners of your eyes.

"Fuck, just like that, pretty girl." Satoru's breath was ragged, his eyebrows knit together as he looked down to you, pulling back before fucking another harsh thrust into the back of your throat. "Breathe through your nose, now. I can't have you passing out on me." Satoru guided you gently, yet the way he gripped your head and held you to bottom out contrasted greatly with his kind tone. It was a lot easier said than done, especially with how large his cock was, stretching your throat and causing a deep ache in your jaw. Satoru groaned when you swallowed, his head falling back as he closed his eyes. He began to pick up his pace, thrusting his hips while simultaneously pulling and pushing your head up and down him. He never failed to hit the back of your throat with each thrust, smiling when your two hands on his thighs would slowly grip him tighter, a silent way to beg for him to slow down. He never did.

Precum leaked from his tip, swathing against your tongue, salty with a lace of sweetness. He felt himself losing his mind. Satoru cursed under his breath. Why hadn't they done this earlier? How could they have let such a perfect little thing like you slip past their gaze all these years? He watched as you turned your gaze up to him, locking eyes. Your mouth was stuffed full of him, tears welled up in your eyes before they ran down your pretty face. This, this was it. This is what he and Suguru really needed. Throughout their years, he and Suguru had had their way with many dumb, pretty doormats just like you. But as Satoru starts fucking your mouth, heavy breaths falling past his lips as his balls began to slap against your chin, he could tell that your holes were going to be the best they'll ever fuck. You shut your eyes tightly, looking up to him pleadingly with him to give you a break, to let you breathe even just for a little bit. He could tell you've never done anything like this before, or at the very least, never with a cock as large as his. Your innocence was only driving him even more mad, having him relish in the way that he and Suguru would be the first ones to break you in. To use you. To fuck all your holes. Satoru's eyes traced down to your throat, watching the outline of his cock bulge in your neck and a build-up of your saliva drip down from your chin onto your clothed tits.

"Fuck... Eyes on me." His eyebrows knit together, voice airy. With one hand still gripping roughly in your hair, his other reaches down to your throat. His palm wraps around the entirety of your neck easily. You're so small compared to him. Like a dumb little lamb that's wandered too far into the woods, too far into a lion's den. He gives your neck a light squeeze when he bottoms out, hearing you gag and your throat tightening around his cock in response. Once he notices your hands practically scratching down his thighs, he builds up the restraint to give you a break, pulling his cock out of your mouth with a grunt. You gasp, coughs and choked heaves of air borrowing through as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Maybe that was enough, you thought. Maybe now, they'd leave you alone, your dignity bruised and purity shattered.

Much to your dismay, Suguru unbuckled his pants, walking towards you slowly. You look at him with wide eyes.

"W-Wait, I don't—"

"Don't what?" Suguru cut you off, lightly tapping the tip of his cock against your cheek with one hand, his other hand pushing his hair out of his pretty face. Your lips quiver, and you turn your face away from him.

"I don't want to do this anymore..." You looked down to the floor, your hands fiddling together nervously while you knelt before him. Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers running through your hair gently, tucking loose strands behind your ear.

"You really think we care?" You look up to him slowly. His eyes were half-lidded as they stared down into you, cold. He felt like another person. Many times Suguru would be the one to hold Satoru back, Suguru would be the one who kept you just a little bit safer. Between the two, you'd pick him. Suguru seemed kinder. Yet, you realized your mistake soon enough. Your heart sinks into your stomach. Suguru's grip tightened upon your scalp, he looked irritated.

"When are you going to drop the act?" He pushed your head back, craning your neck to look directly up to him, holding you firmly in place, like a dog being punished to stay still and look to his owner from the ground.

"What..?" You felt a sense of dread sink about you. Suddenly, Suguru lets go of your scalp, grabbing onto your neck and manhandling you into Satoru's lap. Satoru is sitting upon the teacher's desk, with your back against his chest, flush upon his lap. You choke, struggling, hands trying to push and pull at the wrist that kept air keenly out your throat. Suguru signals to Satoru, and Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's on your neck, holding you scarily still. You felt trapped. Small. Vulnerable. Sugur's large hands hooked beneath your thighs, pushing your knees flush against your shoulders before Suguru knelt in front of you. Your skirt pooled around your midriff, and Suguru traced his fingers idly from your clit down to your hole through the fabric of your panties.

"I'll make a deal with you," Suguru's eyes flickered to your face, his gaze sharp as he tilted his head. The view was stomach-churning. Seeing one of the pillars of the Jujutsu World, knelt between your thighs as he played with your cunt through your underwear, just didn't look right. Suguru hooks his middle finger into the side of your underwear. "If I check your pussy and it's not wet, Satoru and I will leave you alone. Does that sound okay?"

"That's not—"

Satoru cuts you off. "I think that sounds like a great deal." Satoru laughs. Suguru hums, pushing your underwear to the side and leaning towards your cunt with a curious look. You writhe, struggling against Satoru's hold on your neck. His large hand gives a warning squeeze.

"Wet pussy never lies, does it?" Suguru chimes, you choke out a panicked moan when his finger probes against your hole, his middle and pointer finger spreading your labia with a V. His other hand slips into his pocket, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture.

"Stop—"

Suguru flips his phone screen towards you and Satoru, your pussy on full view. "What do you think, Satoru?"

"I think," Satoru speaks, "Y/N's body is a lot more honest than her mouth, hmm?" His breath hitches against your ear, you could practically feel him smiling against you.

"Please—ah!" You jolt when you felt cold air blown right against your hole. You squirm, clentching around nothing as your hips struggle and your breath writhes. Satoru groans a little in response, as your needless struggling has amounted to nothing but grinding against his clothed erection. Suguru laughs, leaning back in to gently suck onto your clit. You wretch out a moan, biting harshly into your cheek. Satoru begins to knead your breasts with two large hands, completely enveloping your chest with his palms, his mouth kissing and sucking deep marks of purple and blue into the side of your neck while he works his way to toy with your nipples.

Suguru begins to slowly lap at your clit, sucking onto your clit before his tongue swirls about it harshly. You shutter out a moan, your hands grabbing onto Satoru's wrist to hold on for dear life, your legs trembling and trying to close. Satoru clicks his tongue.

"We can't have you hiding from us, pretty girl. How can Suguru make you feel good then?" Suguru rests your legs onto his shoulders, his hands going to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continues to suck and lick at your clit, his tongue working wonders and flicking against the bud skillfully. Your breath catches as a lump in your throat, head falling back into Satoru's chest. It's too much. It's too way too much. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes, and you try to push your legs against Suguru's shoulder to no avail.

"T-Too much—" Your voice is weak, shaky from the overstimulation. Satoru gently shushes into your ear. "You can be a big girl for us, can't you?" He hums, his hands grab your wrists and bunches them behind your back. You curl up, body stiffening, opening your eyes to see Suguru looking up at you, staring at you intently and you nearly become lost in his dark eyes.

Soon, you're dragged right back down to Earth when Suguru presses his middle finger against your hole, twisting it until it pushes past your walls, and the heel of his wrist bottoms out against the underside of your clit. You yelp, sharply sucking in a breath of air as Suguru redirects his gaze back to your cunt, humming as he laps up your clit, sloppily pressing the flat of his tongue and dragging upwards before moving his tongue side to side across your bud. Your wrists twist against Satoru's grip when Suguru works another finger inside your hole, stretching you out as he scissors deep inside of you, the pads of his fingers pressing against your g-spot.

Squelches mixed with your struggled moans fill the silence of the classroom, Suguru's tongue pulling away from your clit. With his fingers still inside of you, he stands up, grabbing your chin between his fingers as he leans in to kiss you. You squirm under his touch, closing your eyes tightly, trying to block out what's being forced onto your body. His kiss is full of passion, although it's completely devoid of the kindness and affection that couples usually display. It feels as though he's eating you alive, mouth hungrily enveloping with yours, his tongue pushing past your lips and tasting you completely, muffling all of your panicked sobs and moans. Suddenly, Suguru's fingers begin to pound into your cunt, the heel of his hand slapping against your puffy clit as he slams his fingers in and out of you repeatedly. You feel a knot begin to form in your womb, legs shaking and hips trying to wiggle away from the stimulation. Suguru doesn't slow down. His tongue lapping up into your mouth, teeth biting your lower lip so hard it bleeds as he quickens the pace on his fingers while they curl upwards once fully inside you. A tang of iron spills onto your tongue, and Suguru feels himself being driven halfway insane, drunk off the taste of your pussy, the taste of your mouth, your moans, and your struggled whines.

"I-It hurts." You cry, pussy burning from the stretch as his fingers remain relentless to your cunt. You feel like you're being split in two, and Suguru experimentally scissors inside of you, causing you to shiver and your hips to grind in Satoru's lap.

"I bet," Suguru says. "You're really tight. Relax, and let me in, pretty girl." Your thighs tremble, and Suguru continues to work his way at your cunt, letting go of your chin to rub circles into your clit. Your head falls back as your mouth drops into an O against Satoru's chest. The build-up of pleasure stacks tenfold over itself, completely coiling until it snaps. You cum hard. With a nasty squelch, your pussy clenches around Suguru's fingers tightly, writhing out broken moans as Suguru keeps his fingers deep inside you to curl and probe upwards against your g-spot while he leans back down to suck and tongue at your clit. You sob, his pace persistent and mean, bullying you past your orgasm into painful overwhelms of overstimulation. You feel as though your body is being thrown into overdrive, and your thighs are trembling upon Suguru's shoulders, wrists struggling to get out of Satoru's grip as he holds your arms firmly behind your back.

"Enough, S-Suguru, plea—ah! Too much..—!" You sob, Suguru's fingers continuing to curl and fuck into you, his tongue swishing around your puffy clit. You feel something deep in your pussy snap. You squirt onto his fingers with a scream, tears welling into your eyes as he slams his fingers into you until you're fucked dumb—thighs trembling, chest heaving, and back laid limp against Satoru's chest before he finally pulls his sloppy fingers out of you, his face completely drenched in your arousal.

"That was fuckin' hot." Satoru breathes out, letting go of your wrists and kissing your neck. Suguru licks his lips, relishing in your taste as he lightly slaps your clit, laughing when your eyes widen and your body jolts in response.

"Alright now, upsie daisy." Satoru grabs underneath your arms and pulls you off his lap. You stumble, legs much too weak to stand on your own so soon after your orgasm. Suguru catches you on his chest, peppering light kisses onto the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings on how good you did as he holds you up by your waist. Satoru comes up behind you, pushing your skirt over your ass and pulling off your panties until they pool loosely about your ankles. You sob, your hands moving back to push Satoru away by his hip when one of Satoru's large hands wraps about the entirety of your two wrists, pinning them behind you and arching your back until your ass is flush against his dick and the back of your head is against his shoulder. Satoru's free hand wraps around your neck, holding you in place as you squirm.

"Atta girl, don't be such a cry baby." Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back slightly, fucking his cock between your thighs, grinding it against your puffy clit and pussy. You clench around nothing, knees gluing together and hips trying to push back against him desperately. You struggle, wrists squirming to free themselves out of Satoru's mean grip. You scream when one of Satoru's thrusts between your thighs causes the head of his dick to catch into your hole before sliding up to your clit. Suguru smiles at the sight, leaning against a desk in front of you and Satoru as he strokes his cock slowly. Satoru lets go of your neck, still holding you up by the wrists held behind your back, as he takes the base of his dick to press his tip against your hole.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" He muses, voice airy as he slides the head of his dick up and down from your hole to your clit. "No wonder you're so wet." He hums, kissing the side of your neck.

"Stop—oh!" Your voice dies in your throat when he sinks his fat cock into you and bottoms out completely in one thrust, your mouth falling open silent as your eyes widen from the pain. You try squirming away, and the moment you do, Satoru's free hand slides down to press his palm firmly against your womb.

"You feel me in there, pretty?" He muses, licking up the helix of your ear. You sob, trembling in response. You look down to make sure you haven't been split in half, seeing the way Satoru's hand nearly covers the entirety of your lower stomach, seeing a bulge in your tummy from his fat cock nestled deep inside you and against your cervix. Satoru can barely concentrate. He hasn't even begun moving, yet you're already squeezing him so good.

"Fuck... Just like that, baby." Satoru's breath is heavy against your ear, and he bites down on your shoulder to ground himself. You're a strangled mess. Writhing in his arms, your entire body trembling as broken pleas fall upon deaf ears the moment you cut yourself off with your own little moans. Satoru and Suguru can't help but glance at each other, smiling. Fuck, how could such a pretty little thing like you slip past them all these years?

Without warning, Satoru pulls back until only the tip remains inside, before he thrusts his hips forward and bottoms out into you, his hips pressed flush against your ass. You choke out a scream, just as Satoru's hand slaps against your mouth to muffle you.

"Oh common, it wasn't that bad, mm?" Satoru's index and middle fingers push past your lips, swirling about your tongue. "Don't be so loud, unless you want the whole school to know?" Your heart sinks to your stomach, and you swallow, shutting your eyes tightly as you weakly shake your head in response.

"Maybe she really is that dirty of a girl, we'll never know until we try." Suguru muses, pulling out a cigarette from his pants pockets along with those fancy butane lighters with a stupidly long, purple-colored flame. He lights it idly between his long fingers, watching you furrow your eyebrows as the first puff of smoke is blown your way.

"We'd have to start off easy though, she's so sensitive she might die on the spot if we just fuck her in front of a crowd," Satoru replied, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip before sinking back in harshly. You can't even understand what they're saying, Satoru's hand completely shutting you up, his fingers fucking your mouth while his dick has you completely filled to the brim. You feel as though your brain is stupidly empty, overfilled with pain, laced with what you refuse to believe is absolute pleasure. It's too much. The feeling of his fingers in your mouth, against your tongue, his cock dragging against your walls. It's too much. Way too much, and yet Satoru has barely even begun moving.

"Should we start it off with a couple cursed spirits as our audience?" Suguru chimes, head leaning back as the nicotine seems to take its hit. "Nah, that's boring. How about...ah, I know!" Satoru sounds much too cheerful, when he suddenly pulls out to the tip and slams back into you once again. You yelp, muffled sobs passing through the fingers in your mouth as you struggle with your hands pinned behind your back. You moan aimlessly, forced up on your tippy toes to keep taking his dick due to how tall Satoru is compared to you.

"S-Sato—ru! P-Please stop..." A particularly hard thrust stutters you, drowned out by the sounds of him as he begins to pound into your cunt. Perverted squelches drip arousal down your thighs, wetting Satoru's dick, and allowing him to fuck you faster, to fuck you harder. Your legs feel tingly, your clit a puffy, overstimulated mess when Satoru removes the digits in your mouth and uses your own spit to rub circles onto your clit.

"Mmm, how about Nanami?" Suguru suggests. "Fuck her in front of that blonde?" Your heart sinks.

"Oh! That's a good ide- hmm?" Satoru laughs darkly, continuing you fuck into you, his grip on your wrists as relentless as the cock fucking up against your cervix. "God, you fucking clenched around me when Suguru said that. What a dirty slut." Satoru's voice is dark, amused, and even without looking at him, you can bet his usually perfectly kept hair is messy and his face is flushed. He sounds pussydrunk, and his pace begins to stagger.

"No way Mr. Limitless is done already?" Suguru snorts, Satoru scoffs in response. "When you get your turn, let's see how long you last." Satoru rolls his eyes. Satoru becomes annoyed at Suguru's tease, wanting to prove his best friend wrong. And so, he bends you over the teacher's desk, your tits squished against the cold wooden surface as he grabs your hips with both hands, fucking into you like there's no tomorrow. You yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching as you held onto the edges of the desk to soften the recoil Satoru's thrusts were causing to your body. He was so big. Both his dick and his stature. As Satoru leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he furthered his markings of hickeys and bites upon your shoulder and neck, you felt as though you were cornered, sandwiched with no way to escape. Satoru fucked into you nonstop, and you swear if he kept up his thrusts he would eventually push right into your cervix and fuck his precum into your womb.

You tightened your hands into fists, sobbing in response to a particularly brutal thrust that fucked you so hard you swear you felt it in your stomach. You haven't been pleading for a while now, your moans cutting off your speech completely, Satoru's dick fucking you too dumb to even know what was going on. Where were you again? What time was it? All of your questions would be fucked out of your mind from the drag of Satoru's cock against your walls alone, a vein catching against your velvety walls before he'd slam back into you with no regard to your pain, to your overstimulation, to your sensitivity. He fucked you mercilessly, like a little human fleshlight, as though Satoru wanted to mold your insides to perfectly fit his cock, to ruin you for any other man besides him and Suguru.

"Shit, you still with me?" Satoru asked, his voice low, breathing heavy. He moved your head to rest your cheek against the desk, and he laughed when he saw your fucked out face, eyes rolling back as he kept fucking into you even as he spoke, even as he was trying his best to hold off filling you up with his cum just to avoid Suguru's teasing if he came so soon. Satoru looked at your fucked out face. And although he felt himself fall in love with the view, he needed something new, something more. Sure, your cock drunk state was a view that engraved itself happily into his mind, but he wanted to completely use every part of you. To take all of your firsts as his own. Satoru's pace suddenly flaters, until it comes to a stop. Your chest is heaving, and you sniffle a little. Tears running from your eyes and down to the teacher's desk you were bent over and pinned down into. Satoru gestures to Suguru. Suguru digs into his pocket lazily, before throwing a small bottle to Satoru.

"It'll be a little cold, but don't worry, yeah?" Satoru mused. Even though he was giving you a warning, it was clear his tone held no sense of concern for you. Your eyes widened and hips jolted when you felt something cold and sticky fall onto your asshole. You were about to turn around, when one of Satoru's hands slammed your head back down to hold you flat against the desk.

"N-No! N-No way, stop!" You struggle violently, and Satoru grips your hair roughly, shutting you up through his aggression.

"Oh cool it. Someone would've fucked this pretty ass soon enough, be glad your first is me." Satoru laughs. He ignores your panic, taking his middle finger and swirling it around the rim of your asshole before he pushes it in gently. You scream, biting your bottom lip until you swore you could taste tangy iron. You shut your eyes tightly. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

"Please...p-please I'm begging you... Stop—ah!" Satoru pays no mind to your pleas, thrusting his middle finger into your asshole slowly, curling the tip and wiggling inside you whenever he bottoms out. His fat cock is still stuffed in your cunt, cockwarming him as he preps your other hole.

"I'm being so kind, no? I'm not even moving and I'm prepping you too! Gosh, be a little grateful, Y/N." Satoru hums, his finger prodding and probing deep inside of you. You've never felt anything like this before, and it feels weird. You try to squirm, to buck your hips away, but you hear Satoru sigh in response, suddenly pulling his cock out to the tip and slamming his hips back into you.

"If you keep being ungrateful, I'll stop caring about you completely." He warns. You sob quietly in response, and the grip in your hair remains firm, pressing your cheek hard against the desk. Smoke from Suguru's cigarette permeates throughout the room, before he drops it onto the ground, stomping upon it and sweeping it up into a small trash can by the door. All you're left with is strangled whines, mewls, and tears that fall down your face, until Satoru works his ring finger into your ass as well. You sob at the stretch, clenching around him to try and push away at the foreign intrusion, yet all that seems to achieve is sucking his fingers deeper. Satoru deems you to be stretched out enough, beginning to pull his fingers out of your ass, before pushing them back in. You buck your hips. You don't know if you're trying to pull away or to the stimulation that's being forced onto your body.

You soon know it to be the prior.

Satoru pulls his hips back, slamming back into you as you yelp and sob in response. He begins to fuck into you while simultaneously fingering your ass at the same speed. Soon, Satoru picks it up. Although he's fucking your ass at a medium pace, the cock pressing against your cervix again and again returns to its previous pounding. You're back to sobbing, moaning aimlessly as you struggle pathetically from the overdrive. You swear you're seeing stars when Satoru adds a third finger into your ass, scissoring the three and curling his fingertips inside you, while the head of his cock presses firmly against your g-spot and cervix, dragging back and forth until your vision feels as though it's fading away. You don't know how long it goes for, but soon, Satoru's three fingers are simply buried into your ass as he focuses all of his energy on fucking your sloppy cunt. His hand releases your head, running down the side of your body to catch your clit between his middle and index finger. You jolt, choking out a wonton cry as he begins to swirl your clit aggressively.

"Cum for me, f-fucking cum." Your body seizes up, stiffening as your eyes roll back and Satoru's cock punches against your cervix. Everything builds up. His cock brutally fucking into you, his fingers pinching and circling your clit, and the three fingers in your ass that begin to pick up their movements as they curl deep inside you. You cum hard, sobbing as your pussy and asshole clench around him, spasming and your legs trembling. If it weren't for the desk you were bent over, you would've fallen completely into the floor, collapsed like an empty fuck doll. Yet you weren't done, not until they were. Satoru fucks you through your orgasm.

"C-Cumming, f-fuck! S-Satoru, too much—AH!" Satoru continues to finger your ass, dick pummeling into you and his pace becoming unsteady when he slams back into you for one last time, tip pressed hard against your cervix before you feel hot spruts of cum filling you completely. Satoru thrusts into you slowly to ride out his high, heavy breaths and degrations falling past his lips.

"F-Fuck, such a fucking whore, huh? Shit..." Satoru leaned over you, chest pressed against your back as he regained his breath before pulling out. You felt a spurt of cum slide down your inner thighs, dripping down from your pussy, and you clenched around nothing. Head empty, fucked dumb, fucked senseless. You didn't even register when large hands pulled you off the desk. You barely even reacted when you were manhandled down to straddle Suguru on the floor.

"Please...enough..." Your voice was weak, your entire body sore and trembling lightly. Suguru shushes you gently, holding the back of your head and cradling you so affectionately. "Shh, we'll take care of you. Wanna feel good, hmm?" Suguru whispered, licking up your neck. You sob in response, knowing that no matter how much you tried to fight them, they wouldn't let you go until they had their fun. Suguru grabs your hips firmly, holding your ass up as he pushes his cock into your cunt. You choke out a moan, grabbing onto his shoulders as your head fell against his chest. You simply cried as he began to fuck you. You thought Satoru surely had molded you into the shape of his cock enough to numb the painful stretch, but you never expected Suguru to be so much thicker. You gripped onto his shoulders tightly, his shirt bunching up beneath your fingers as your desperate cries mixed in with confused little moans as you could only take his fat cock that punched your cervix so hard you felt as though your insides would be scrambled and bruised the next day.

"F-Fuck, n-no more—" You whimpered. Suguru paid you no mind, holding you painfully, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he pounded into you with deep grunts. Suddenly, you felt another presence from behind you. Satoru knelt behind you, his cockhead sliding up and down your asshole. You panicked, trying to push your hips away, but Suguru's grip remained bruising. Satoru laughed at your pathetic attempt of squirming away, slapping your ass hard, a sting ghosting where his hand had hit.

"O-Ouch—! Ah!" You yelped in response, and Satoru's hands replaced Suguru's grip on your hips. You were about to open your mouth to protest once more, but Suguru's hands cupped your face and pulled you into a deep, rough kiss. Your moans muffled into his mouth, a confused gasp cut off as his tongue slipped past your sultry lips, your eyes rolling into the backs of your head when Satoru slowly sunk his cock deep into your ass, while Suguru's pace was still unrelenting as he continued to fuck into you like a ragdoll, bruising your cervix and stretching you completely.

Soon, you were an absolute mess. Satoru and Suguru's paces were completely out of sync. Satoru fucked you rough, hard, and fast, his hips slapping against yours as your ass would recoil in response. He held you so firmly, holding no regard for your smaller body as he held you still with too much strength than needed, just to remind you of your place. Satoru moaned each time you'd clench around him, aka each time the tip of Suguru's cock would punch against your cervix once more. Suguru's pace was similarly rough, although he and Satoru would fuck you just out of sync, making sure that whenever Satoru had pulled out to the tip, Suguru's cock would be nestled deep inside of you—and whenever Suguru would pull out your cunt, Satoru would be slamming right back into you. You were nothing but a pretty little fleshlight for the two by now. The two men letting out a series of grunts and low moans as you use your body to their own pleasure, breaths heavy against your ears, deep marks of purple, blue, and bites scattered across your neck, shoulders, upper back, waist, inner thighs. You were completely defiled by them. And fuck, how did they love that. Like a twisted sense of being the first to have something all to themselves, to ruin it for anyone else who wanted to try having a taste.

Your thoughts were completely gone by now, filled with nothing but a cycle: a numb buzz of pleasure that would wind in your womb, a climax to your orgasm, getting fucked right through it, rinse and repeat. How many times has it been? How many times have you cum? You feel as though they have been pounding you for hours, and you shut your eyes tightly, thighs trembling when the coil in your stomach begins to build up once more as Suguru's cock fucked into your cervix, as Satoru's dick pounded into your ass.

"C-Cumming, 'm gonna c-cum..." Your voice was strained, slurred, intoxicated. Satoru laughed from behind you, and Suguru began to circle at your overstimulated clit once more.

"Put on a show."

"Cum then."

You came hard, your grip on Suguru's shoulders tight as you moaned loudly. Suguru stuttered. "F-Fuck, gonna fill you up...make you mine." He rasped, slamming into you one final time before he came deep, hot cum filling you up completely, his dick slowing down his pace to properly jut its final ropes of cum deep into your cunt. Satoru's pace faltered as well, before he gave one harsh thrust that had you recoil forward, pressing your cheek harder against Suguru's chest with a yelp as Satoru bottomed out and filled your ass with his hot cum.

The classroom was quiet. Quiet as opposed to the three mix of heavy breaths, your three bodies tangled together, two cocks stuffing you impossibly full. Satoru was the first to pull out, sitting back on his heels as he pushed his hair back. Suguru grabbed the underside of your armpits firmly, lifting you up and off his dick, a mix of his and Satoru's cum dripping out and onto his abs. Suguru stands up, pulling you up to lay you gently on a table as he leans down to your sloppy cunt. You're completely dazed, and you can only muster a pathetic jolt and whine as Suguru begins to lick your cunt slowly. Your eyes zone out and only occasional whimpers slip past your lips. He laps your pussy up clean, holding your hips firmly as he swirls his tongue around your clit slowly, as though to apologize for being so rough with you. Suguru pulls away momentarily, a string of saliva connecting him to your cunt. His hand slides up the underside of your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest with one hand as he leans down to your ass. His tongue rims you gingerly, and you moan quietly, sobbing so weakly from the final drive of overstimulation.

Once both your holes are clean, Suguru and Satoru gather up your uniform, stealing your panties but being kind enough to fix your uniform. Satoru pulls you up, holding you bridal style as you close your eyes, drifting off to sleep. Suguru stands in front of Satoru, his face still flushed and breath still heaving.

"Should we get plan b?"

"Why the hell would we do that?"

You're watching...

8K notes · View notes

xomakara · 5 months ago

Text

No Clue

SUMMARY | You're in love with Jaehyun, your best friend, but he has no clue. You have suffered in silence as you have watched him date countless of girls left and right. Graduation is coming up, and you are running out of time to tell him how you feel. Will he finally see that it should have been you all along, or will he break your heart forever?

PAIRINGS | Jaehyun x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | college!student!Jaehyun, college!student!Reader, college au, friends to lovers trope, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names

RATING | Mature, NSFW, 18+

LENGTH | 11,927 words

TAGLIST | @yowmaman @yoursyuno @peqchypeqh @nctobsessedsstuff @thoughtfulqueenlady

@shiningnono @jaessunflower214 @tenleecth10 @beebxxu @niinjo

@carelessshootanonymous @peachytokki @100203shong @soheendo

NETWORKS | @k-vanity

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Its finally done and I have finally returned! I think this is my dirtiest and filthiest NSFW work yet for NCT 👀. Thanks to everyone that has shown the preview much love so please show the finished work just as much love. Don't forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

You sat in the coffee shop, tables away from your best friend as you watched him flirt with that pretty girl he met at the latest NCT frat party. It was another girl this week, but you still hoped. You hoped he would turn and look at you. You hoped that he would see that it should be you.

It was never you.

He laughed at something she said and you sipped your tea. The hot liquid scalded your throat but you barely registered the pain, your eyes on Jaehyun, your heart shattering every single time he smiled at her. He would never smile at you like that. He would never look at you with those soft brown eyes.

And yet you continued to sit in the corner, watching, hoping, praying for something you could never have.

You got up and walked past them, ignoring Jaehyun's questioning glance. Your head was down as you pushed open the door and stepped out into the hot summer air.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet. The heels you wore were a nuisance today, and you kicked them off halfway through the walk, your feet padding barefoot across the concrete. You could see a group of guys approaching and you sighed, picking up your pace. You didn’t want to have to talk to anyone.

The group stopped and turned towards you, calling out. You could hear their footsteps following and you bit back a curse.

“Y/N, seriously, are you listening to us?” One of the guys, Mark, said.

You slowed your pace and turned, plastering a smile on your face.

Mark stood before you, Taeyong, Johnny, and Haechan close behind. You knew them from high school. You had been friends, and you had always found them attractive. But nothing, nothing, compared to how you felt about Jaehyun.

Your eyes drifted to the ground.

“Who made our girl cry?” Taeyong asked, wrapping his arms around you. He could see through your fake smile.

You couldn't help but relax into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He rubbed your back gently.

The others came forward and touched you gently, Mark taking one of your hands, Johnny placing a hand on your head, and Haechan standing beside you and taking your other hand.

You didn’t want to cry anymore.

They held you for a while, silent. They had known for years about how you felt about Jaehyun. You couldn’t count the number of times you had called Taeyong, crying and begging him to come and hold you, the number of times Johnny had taken you for coffee or to the cinema, anything to get you out of your apartment and away from the sight of Jaehyun with someone else. Mark had sat up with you late at night, watching bad rom-coms and eating popcorn. Haechan had brought you a new book every single day since the start of university, and you knew that the reason you had done so well was because of him.

They helped you through your worst times. And here they were again.

You finally stepped back, looking up at them and wiping the last of the tears away.

“Another girl this time?” Haechan asked softly.

“The one Yuta introduced him to at the last frat party.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair. "I've got all dolled up today thinking that something was different, that maybe today would be the day when he suddenly asked to meet me at the coffee shop alone. But I guess it was to introduce me to whatever her name was."

The boys stayed silent.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Johnny asked quietly.

You shook your head.

"He doesn't need to know. I'm okay." You sighed. "Besides, no matter how much I wear pretty clothes or put on makeup, or wear these stupid heels like always...he never looks my way. He never sees me. I must be ugly or something, I don't know."

"You are beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have you." Haechan whispered.

"You guys are the best." You smiled and kissed their cheeks.

"Why don't we have a movie night? We can get pizza and snacks and just chill." Johnny smiled, linking his arm with yours.

"Drinks included?" You asked, your heart a little lighter than it had been a few moments ago.

"Of course." Mark laughed.

"And popcorn, lots of it." Taeyong grinned.

You walked with them back to your apartment, smiling and laughing at their jokes, letting yourself relax and forget about Jaehyun, at least for a little while.

Haechan opened your front door, grinning.

"Let's get wasted!" He whooped, making a beeline to the cabinet where you had stored all your drinks.

"Get some glasses." Mark laughed, following the younger boy.

You and Johnny made your way into the living room and dropped down onto the couch. Taeyong came back from the kitchen with plates and napkins, placing them on the table and sitting beside you.

Haechan and Mark carried all the drinks and snacks to the table and sat on the floor, sorting out the snacks.

You smiled, grateful for the four men in front of you. You would have gone mad without them.

The night was going well, you were sitting between Taeyong and Johnny on the couch, leaning on Johnny and giggling as the film continued. Haechan was curled up on the other side of the couch, half asleep. Mark had disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a huge bowl of popcorn and settling on the floor next to Haechan.

Your phone buzzed and you frowned, looking down and seeing Jaehyun's name. You groaned and threw the phone to the other side of the couch, turning your attention back to the film.

"Don't you want to see what he wants?" Taeyong asked softly.

"Nope." You popped the 'p' and took another sip of your drink. "He can go fuck himself."

"He's texted you like a hundred times already." Haechan frowned, holding the phone out to you.

"So?"

"Y/N, just look. It could be important."

You groaned and snatched the phone from him, opening the messages and rolling your eyes.

Jae: Are you mad at me?

Jae: Seriously, you can't ignore me forever. Please reply. What the fuck did I do wrong? You are my best friend, talk to me.

Jae: This is not fucking funny. What is wrong with you?

"What's wrong with me?" You looked away from your phone, letting out a frustrated sigh as you passed your phone to Mark.

"You want me to reply?" Mark asked.

"Nope. Just turn off my phone. I don't care how many messages he leaves me." You got up, downing your drink. "I'm going to get more alcohol."

"You are going to regret this in the morning," Johnny called.

"At this point, I don't fucking care. I'm done with this. If he wants to date the whole world then that's up to him. Not my fault."

You stumbled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of vodka, poured a good amount into your cup, and made your way back to the guys. "I'll regret it later, but right now, I'm getting absolutely, fucking trashed."

The movie finished, and you had drunk more than enough alcohol to kill a horse.

You were lying on the couch, the others sitting around you.

"I don't want to be in love anymore. Why can't I stop?" You slurred, your eyes closed as you lay across the couch, your head on Johnny's lap and your feet in Haechan's.

"There will be someone else. Someone better." Johnny stroked your hair, smiling softly.

"I hope so. I really, fucking do." You sighed.

You were drunk, you were sad, and you cried a lot. But you were also tired.

And within minutes, you were asleep.

Jaehyun was worried. He had texted you and called you. His texts went unanswered, his calls went straight to voicemail, and everyone else who was with you wasn't answering his texts.

"What the fuck is going on with everyone tonight?" He muttered, throwing his phone onto his bed and falling onto the pillows.

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering why you wouldn't talk to him. He had seen you walk out of the cafe and had wondered why you hadn't waited for him, why you had left so quickly.

He had wanted to ask but had been distracted by the pretty girl who was sitting in front of him.

He couldn't deny that she was gorgeous and that he liked the way her dress clung to her figure.

But she wasn't you.

Jaehyun sighed and looked at his phone. The girl, Minah, had asked him out, and he had said yes.

She was the most recent in a long line of girls, all of whom had asked him out. He could barely remember their names. They were just something to occupy his time, something to fill the void in his chest when his mind drifted back to you. You, his beautiful best friend, who probably doesn't think of him as anything but a friend.

Jaehyun could imagine holding you, loving you, kissing you until your lips were red and swollen, only pulling away to pepper your skin in small, soft kisses that made you giggle. He wanted to be able to run his fingers through your hair and kiss the top of your head as he pulled you against him. He could see you wrapped up in his arms as the sun came up, your soft breaths against his skin, your fingertips gently dancing across his body.

He wanted to be with you, wanted you in his life, not these random, forgettable girls. But he didn't know how to tell you, and so he resigned himself to this half-life.

He grabbed his phone and called you again, but still, it rang and rang until finally the voicemail picked up. He didn’t bother leaving another message, knowing that you were deliberately not answering.

He knew that he should probably let you be, but the worry was building inside him. He was concerned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It was almost 2 am and you still hadn't replied to him.

Jaehyun stood up, his mind made up. He grabbed his keys, jacket, phone, and wallet, and made his way out of his apartment to head to yours.

He walked slowly, thinking about you, wondering what had happened that day. Had he done something wrong? Why had you left the coffee shop without him?

He reached your apartment, surprised that the lights were still on.

He knocked loudly, waiting impatiently for someone to answer the door.

After a moment, the door opened, and Mark stood in the doorway. "Hey, can't this wait? She's asleep."

"Is she okay?" Jaehyun tried to push past the shorter man, but Mark stopped him.

"Look, man, just go home. She doesn't want to talk to you." Mark sighed.

Jaehyun gave him a look. "Why the fuck not? I'm her best friend."

"Well, you have a fucking shitty way of showing it. Do you even know what you have put her through?" Johnny walked up behind Mark and glared at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun paused. "What are you talking about?"

"You are her best friend and you are so blind that you can't see what is right in front of your eyes." Johnny continued.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows.

"For fucks sake." Johnny sighed. "Go home, Jae. Leave her alone for now."

"Tell her I'll call her tomorrow. I'll be back to check on her." Jaehyun turned and walked away, his head full of confusion.

Mark and Johnny shared a look.

"This is getting out of hand," Mark muttered.

"It'll work out. Let's get back inside. She needs us."

They closed the door and walked back into the living room, the others glancing at them.

"Is he gone?" Haechan asked.

"Yeah, for now. But I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. If he doesn't realize how she feels soon, it will destroy her." Mark sighed.

Taeyong moved from his seat and sat on the floor next to Haechan. "How many girls has he been with now?" He asked.

"I've lost count. There was that girl at the party last week, the one with the green dress. He dated her for two days before he realized that she wasn't going to give him anything other than her time. Then there was that blonde girl, she was nice, and lasted a couple of weeks." Mark listed the girls that Jaehyun had brought around and introduced to you.

"How many of those girls did he fuck?" Haechan asked.

"Too many." Mark sighed.

"And she watches them all. She sits and listens to them talk about their dates and the things they've done, and she never says anything. She pretends to be happy for him, pretends that she is okay." Johnny looked over at your sleeping form.

"This needs to end." Haechan frowned. "Can't we just lock them in a room or something? Let them fuck it out or something? Surely it has to happen at some point."

"I'm with him." Taeyong looked at the rest of them.

"That...I guess that would work." Johnny nodded slowly.

"I could knock her out." Mark stood. "Give her something to drink, make it sweet or something... I could pick her up, put her somewhere..."

"No, Mark. No." Taeyong stopped him. "I'm pretty sure drugging her is illegal, even if you are doing it for a good cause. We don't need you getting arrested as well."

"Fine, fine." Mark threw his hands up and flopped down beside Haechan.

"Doesn't have to be drug-free," Haechan suggested.

"Again, Hae, not helping. We need Y/N and Jaehyun to be conscious if this is to go ahead." Johnny explained patiently.

"Yo, isn't the summer frat party coming up? We could lock them up in the laundry room since the door lock is broken?" Mark asked. “Like that shit won’t unlock from the inside.”

"Who knows what they could do then...no, wait. What if we kept them under a watch, like literally, all the time, until the frat party? At which point, we shove him in with her and she will have nowhere to escape to." Johnny sat up straight, eyes wide, an excited smile on his face.

"Okay. So far we have a plan to trap them at a frat party, and make sure they won't have any outside influences." Taeyong leaned back.

"Any other suggestions before we call this a success?" Johnny asked.

"Don't get caught," Haechan replied, grinning.

"Don't. Get. Caught." The others nodded.

Over the next few weeks, the boys slowly came up with a plan to trap you and Jaehyun together. It took a lot more thinking than anyone had believed it would, and twice they had had to start the plan over after realizing the flaws.

But the day was approaching fast, the day of the Frat Party. The annual summer frat party was known for one thing – anything and everything was up for grabs. There were no rules. People would sit in the quiet corners of rooms and kiss strangers, get blind drunk, dance the night away, or pass out on a soft surface. Anything goes.

It was the perfect place to begin the trap.

By the end of the week, everyone knew it would be the night you and Jaehyun got together. There were only a few more hurdles to jump, and the boys would finally let the cat out of the bag.

Your friendship group was also quite big, and your respective friendship groups always did make sure that you were as drunk or as happy or as horny as the other was, at least.

So this meant that you, as usual, and for the last few years, were at this frat party with them, on a weekend and dressed to impress.

And impressed you had, Jaehyun thought to himself, watching you flit in between friends with your drink. He knew that you were going to be here at this party, even if you were avoiding him for reasons unknown to him. He hoped to catch a chance to speak to you about this. He missed his best friend.

It took a lot longer than he thought to get an opportunity to corner you. And he saw that there was always one of the guys, usually either Haechan or Taeyong, with you. Almost like they knew he was looking to speak with you.

Johnny and Mark appeared at Jaehyun's side, slapping him on the back.

"Going to make a move tonight?" Johnny grinned. "Time to cash in and score."

"Cute, man. How old are you, 18?" Jaehyun raised a brow.

"Dude, it's the summer party where nothing is off-limits. Rules don't exist. Do whatever, whoever. Catch a big one." Johnny pointed in the general direction of all the college students around.

"You seem excited for some reason." Jaehyun narrowed his eyes.

"Why not be?" Mark asked with an easy smile, looking as if he didn't have a single worry in the world. "Look at all the hot ass around. It's not that big of a deal."

Jaehyun huffed before sipping his beer from the can. "Sure, maybe I'll land on someone."

He sighed and looked for you across the sea of people. He saw you giggling with your friends, obviously slightly tipsy. His heart thudded loudly at the sight of you in an all-too-short silver skirt that barely covered the curve of your ass, a lace bodysuit that barely covered your ample breasts, and stiletto heels that showed off your long and lean legs beautifully. It took him a minute to pull his gaze back to Mark and Johnny, both of them with huge shit-eating grins.

Johnny and Mark noticed his wandering eyes looking at you, and they glanced at one another before giving each other a knowing nod. Mark raises an eyebrow as Johnny nearly spits out the beer he is drinking when he finally spots you in the crowd.

"Fuck, dude!" He exclaims and smacks Jaehyun's arm. "When did Y/N look this hot? I know we’re friends but damn. She outdid herself tonight."

Jaehyun gives Johnny a sideways glance at the fact that he had the audacity to be hitting on his best friend. He moves to get up and find you, a little annoyed that his friends are getting their eyes on you.

"Man, I bet she's looking for something in particular tonight, why not get first?" Mark whistles and gives Johnny a fist pump.

Jaehyun hears this comment and gives him a strange look, then raises a brow in thought as to Mark's remark. He tries to shrug it off and heads off towards where you were last seen by him. Jaehyun fights his way through the throng of college students trying to dance but fails to see you again and assumes you have found another of your friends to hang around with.

"Did Jaehyun finally have the guts to approach her?" Taeyong asks Johnny from the corner of the house.

Mark let out a laugh. "Johnny made Jae think that he was interested in Y/N." He laughs harder. "Taeyong, your boy was about ready to fight Johnny."

"Hey, anything for him to make a move." He murmurs and he watches Jaehyun search the room for you.

As Johnny, Taeyong, and Mark snicker from their corner and watch the unfolding scene, Jaehyun turns, looking almost irritated as he attempts to catch up with his best friend. He makes a silent promise that the next guy who tries to hit on you is going down.

You are none the wiser to Jaehyun trying to search for you or the scheming your friends have done as you were chatting with Yuta, Jeno, and Jungwoo. The four of you are laughing as you chatter with drinks in hand and have fun.

"We're sure this will work, guys?" Haechan checks on Taeyong, Johnny, and Mark while drinking his third cup of beer. "There's only a handful of us left who can help and make sure Jaehyun or Y/N doesn't sneak out early."

"Oh this better fucking work or I swear to god, we will just use a megaphone and let everyone know they are in love with each other." Taeyong growls and rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Just make sure no one comes to the laundry room, alright guys?" Johnny finalizes and all the boys give a nod.

Suddenly, the house turns silent when the DJ lowers the volume. Jaehyun is surprised he can hear his thoughts, but then the main host, or frat house leader, Doyoung announces. "Okay, party-goers, as you all are aware, the party rules for the night apply! Nothing is forbidden, let yourself be free and open, and no boundaries because what happens here, stays here! This means that you, your friends, and whatever partners you end up with can do as you like, go wherever you like, however many you like, but please make sure safety precautions are used! If you're sober, come and volunteer to drive your partners and friends safely home once it ends. Enjoy the party, and party till the sun rises!"

The house erupts in a sea of applause.

Most of the party attendees grab someone and immediately find a spot for themselves in some rooms or leave for the night to continue elsewhere.

You're flirting with an attractive boy you don't know. His arms are wrapped around your waist as you subtly flirt with him, giggling at whatever stupid thing is leaving his mouth.

Jaehyun is at the other side of the room drinking beer from a red solo cup, looking at you with a frown. He can't keep his eyes off of you, which pisses him off, as you won't even reply to his texts. And the whole not texting back doesn't make him as angry as this boy who is a bit too close to you. You're practically pressed against him, his hand on your waist, and you are whispering things he can't hear into his ear. He tries to shake his jealousy off but his eyes never leave you, and then the unknown boy turns and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter closed, and your fingers grip the boy's hair and jacket.

Jaehyun lets the cup drop out of his hand and makes his way over to you. He puts his hand in the boy's face and pushes him away.

"Dude, what's your problem?" The boy frowns and steps towards him, pushing him lightly.

"She's my fucking problem. Don't touch her. Fuck off. She isn't interested." Jaehyun growls. The boy rolls his eyes, looks over his shoulder at you, and storms off.

"Jae, what the fuck is your problem?" You glare at him, pulling him so your bodies are flush against each other. Jaehyun stares down at you, trying to control his erratic heartbeat.

"Him. Kissing you. That's my problem."

"What are you talking about? I was just talking with him. I didn't know he would kiss me." You sigh, running your fingers through your hair.

"Were you going to let him? Did you want him to?" Jaehyun growled. “You looked like you were enjoying it.”

"Does that matter? Would it even make a difference?" You said as you stepped in front of the laundry room and tilted your head back to him.

"You don't answer my calls anymore. You ignore my texts." Jaehyun murmured, walking close behind you.

"And why would that matter? You've got loads of pretty girls to entertain yourself with, Jaehyun." Your tone was mocking, and bitter, and Jaehyun noticed.

"Where is this coming from? Is that why you have been ignoring me lately?" He said, getting annoyed.

"So what if it is? It doesn't matter anymore, Jaehyun. It's obvious that your eyes are already set on your next prize." You walked into the laundry room, trying to find someplace quiet.

To get away from him.

The room, unlike the rest of the house, had no loud music playing, no thumping bass, just the soft buzzing sound of the washer and dryer machines, and the party could no longer be heard through the walls. The music was almost like white noise now. You knew Jaehyun had followed you into the room, you could feel the warmth radiate off of him. His body heat so close behind you. He was about to speak when you both heard the door slammed shut, locking from the outside.

"You've gotta be shitting me." Jaehyun groaned, yanking at the door handle.

You rushed to the door and twisted the lock, only to find it refused to budge. "They still didn't fix the damn door lock? Really?"

"Hey! Who is it? Open the fucking door." Jaehyun slammed his fist at the wooden frame, frowning as it did not budge an inch.

He pressed his forehead to the door and swore loudly.

"Jaehyun, it's no use. You could break your hands before it opens." You tugged on his sleeve. "We may as well wait it out."

You sighed and went to go sit on the floor, your back against the machines. Jaehyun sank beside you on the floor, leaning his back against the machine and rubbing a hand down his face, mumbling profanities. You tuck your knees up, wrapping your arms around your legs. Jaehyun couldn't help but look down at you, his gaze drinking you in.

The lace bodysuit that hugged your breasts and accentuated all your curves, the short skirt that showed your naked legs. Your hair was out and around your shoulders. You had on makeup, not that you needed any, you always were breathtaking even in a hoodie and sweatpants. But the smokey makeup and red lipstick – that was new. And the stiletto heels on your feet only lengthened your toned legs further. You never did anything half-assed when it came to your appearance. Always dressed for the occasion, even if the occasion was a damn frat party where no rules applied.

He was enraptured by your beauty.

He always was.

Jaehyun struggled now more than before not to keep his thoughts innocent and out of the gutter. Especially now as you were sitting by his side so close, it took all the willpower inside him to not keep his dirty thoughts at bay and not throw himself at you and take advantage of the situation.

"Where’s your phone, Jae?" You murmured. “Mines dead. Forgot to charge it.”

Jaehyun patted down his pockets, looking for his cell phone, then remembered he had placed it in the back pocket of his pants. He scrambled to get it out of his pocket and opened his messages, only to see one new message from Johnny.

Johnny: Get a fucking move on, man. We are NOT letting you out until you two hook up.

So, that answered his unanswered question, and Jaehyun frowned, his eyebrows lowering, glaring daggers at the phone. He fidgeted as he typed the message back, telling Johnny and the boys to let you both the fuck out and sent it.

Johnny: No can do. Take this time to bond and grow as people and then finally FUCK like rabbits.

Before Jaehyun could type out an answer, you plucked his phone out of his hands and stared at the screen before letting out a soft laugh.

"I should have figured they were going to do this. So, we're stuck here for the time being." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I guess I can't avoid you after all."

"Are you going to tell me why you've been avoiding me? Did I do something?" Jaehyun sighed.

Your hands gripped your thighs, fingers pressing down hard, as you struggled not to throw your arms around his neck and pull his lips to yours. To show him exactly how you felt.

"It's complicated, Jae." You began, leaning your head against the washing machine behind you and staring at the wall. You were silent for a few moments, taking deep, slow breaths in and out as Jaehyun let you collect your thoughts and form the right words. "I...just. I can't pretend. I can't do it anymore. It's taking its toll on me and I can't hide it from you. Not when we've been best friends since childhood. Not when you know how to read my fucking moods."

Jaehyun cupped your jaw, making you look at him. "Are you okay? If something is wrong-"

"I'm not okay! Of course, I'm not fucking okay." You snapped, running a frustrated hand through your hair. "Not when I have to see girls hanging all over you, draping themselves over you, giggling every time you flirt, or when they kiss you. How do you think it is for me? To watch someone I...I...shit. Someone I care so much about, be with someone else? It's eating me alive inside, Jaehyun."

You didn't miss his wide-eyed reaction, his sharp intake of breath, or how he tried to read the expression on your face.

"What are you getting at, exactly?" Jaehyun asked, tilting his head.

"God, you are infuriating. Do I have to spell this out to you?" You roll your eyes and push yourself up to stand and begin pacing, the heels of your shoes clicking across the linoleum-tiled floor, and he watches you pace, agitated. Jaehyun grabs your hand and pulls you to him. Your stiletto heels are wobbling a bit and his other hand grips your hip to steady you. His gaze holds yours and doesn't waver and you notice there is a flicker in his dark, hooded eyes that sends a chill through your spine.

"Do you like me?" Jaehyun finally breathes, holding your gaze intently, searching for confirmation. He doesn't let go of you.

"What would you do if I said yes?" You are playing a dangerous game and you know it. The air between you crackles with tension and you swear you feel his pulse increase with the closeness of your body to his. Your lips are inches apart.

You have always wondered how his mouth would feel on yours and it drives you wild with thoughts.

A fire flickers and spreads through your veins when you look up at him and see the way his eyes darken with want when he gazes down at you. His breath is shallow and uneven. He swallows, thick and heavy and your eyes drop to his lips. Your tongue darts out to wet your own, and Jaehyun's mouth parts.

The tip of Jaehyun's tongue is faintly pink and you want nothing more than for him to lift his chin and press his lips to your parted pouted ones, but the courage you mustered seconds ago is suddenly gone and you try to step back from him. You're met with a wall of machines. You aren't sure if you were to try and push past him if you would have even made a single movement to escape. Your chest is still rising and falling at a rapid, uneven rate, and you realize that maybe there is an underlying truth about the house's saying: anything is a free game tonight.

"Do you like me, Y/N?" He asks again, his hands on either side of your body, trapping you between the washers and his arms. He leans towards you and cages you in, and his knee slips between yours.

You couldn't think clearly, not with the smell of Jaehyun invading your senses. His cologne was driving you insane. You grip his shirt between your fingers and lower yourself onto his knee. It feels good and you aren't sure whether it's because you haven't had sex in months or if it was his muscular leg that fits so perfectly between yours.

"Answer me, Y/N." His lips are next to your ear, voice low, breathing hot. It causes a whimper to spill from your mouth. The way Jaehyun's words made your insides feel...fuck. "Please, I need to know."

The please almost shattered any sense of will you might have possessed to hold yourself together. "I - I -"

"Yes?" Jaehyun leaned impossibly closer to you, so close you could taste his scent.

"Jaehyun," your tone is quiet and uncertain. You are frightened of the possibility of losing your lifelong friendship. Of losing Jaehyun. Of not having him. Not like that anyway. "I -"

Before you can say anything else, he closes the distance between the both of you, and you don't hesitate for a second. His hand sinks into the flesh of your hips, pulling you flush against him, your lips sealing perfectly. Your tongue reaches and touches his, licking softly into his mouth. His other hand grips your cheeks with his large fingers as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. It's hot and fiery and he explores every part of your mouth as he devours you in a passionate kiss. It leaves you breathless.

You have kissed many men in your life.

However, none could ever make your toes curl the same way he did. None of them had you begging for more, willing to give up the fight you had been so diligently putting up the past few weeks just to be with him. You cling to his chest, your nails digging into his white T-shirt as your teeth bite on his bottom lip softly.

He moans.

Your core clenches at the sound, and you can't deny the small rush of pride that runs down your spine.

Fuck, it turns you on.

You grab his shoulders for support, his hands roaming around your ass. He squeezes and you gasp, kissing his neck as you roll your hips over the firmness of his knee. The warmth between your legs pooling.

"Is this what you want? Is that it? Is this what's been bothering you the past few weeks?"

Your fingers curl tighter around his T-shirt, and you cling to him, not allowing yourself to step away and let him go. You are losing your breath as he presses you into the metal and it sends a wave of heat coursing through your body.

"Jaehyun," you whined in protest, arching and shivering in his hold.

"Do you like me?” He wanted you to beg. “No, do you love me?”

"Yes," you whimpered as you kissed the hollow of his neck and sucked the sensitive area of skin. Jaehyun's skin was soft and salty on your tongue. Your actions ignited Jaehyun. “I love you so much.”

"I fucking love you, too." He growled, pushing his knee between your legs harder and his other hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your head back. His teeth found the smooth column of your neck and bit softly.

The next moment, Jaehyun is pushing your body against the washer, kissing your neck and your fingers are dragging your nails up and down his biceps, and then he lifts you, throwing one arm underneath the bend in your knees. Your skirts are riding up on the back of your thighs. The next moment you are sitting up on top of the large washer with Jaehyun between your knees, your bare legs wrapped around his hips as his mouth ravages yours, drawing another lustful moan out of you.

You are convinced at that moment that you've found your perfect person.

Your bodies flush and chests heave in rhythm together. You break your lips from his and trail your kiss-bitten lips down his jaw and lick his neck, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin. His lips brush yours once again, his tongue flicking inside your parted mouth and eliciting another soft gasp from you.

You loved it and it sent warmth straight to your core.

Suddenly, as Jaehyun is ravishing you, the door to the laundry room swings open and you both find Johnny leaning against the door frame. Mark, Taeyong, and Haechan hovering in the doorway. Johnny smirks as Mark and Taeyong cover Haechans' young eyes, the youngest exclaiming that he’s seen worse before.

"You've got to be shitting me." Jaehyun voiced through his teeth and snarled at them, his brows furrowed, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh, don't stop on our account, we're not even here. Just pretend we aren't, continue doing what you're doing." Johnny smirked, his hand reaching for his phone.

"God, I'm so embarrassed," You buried your head in Jaehyun's chest, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and lips, swollen from kissing.

Jaehyun ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated breath. He turned to you, his hands framing your face. "Y/N, look at me."

You raised your gaze, his eyes darkened with lust. "Don't ever hide from me."

"But, Jae, they are -"

"Ignore them." He cut you off, his thumb brushing over your plump lips. You nodded, leaning forward and pressed your lips to his. He kisses you, his hands cupping your cheeks, his fingers caressing the soft skin and his touch left your whole body on fire.

You were sure that you had a dumb smile on your face, and the butterflies in your stomach were having a party of their own. You didn't even have a care in the world as he held you close to him.

"Yo, it's like they forgot we're here." Mark's voice brought you back to reality.

"Took you both long enough to finally make a move. We should have locked them in here a long time ago." Johnny chortled, still leaning on the doorframe, Haechan snickering. "Have a fun time."

"We'll leave the door open if ya'll wanna get out, but we can't promise you the house will be free of horny folks fucking each other," Taeyong adds before walking away with an amused smile. The boys follow behind.

You let out a small laugh as you watched your friends walk away. You cupped Jaehyun's cheek, looking into his eyes. "As much as I love laundry... I'd love to finish what we started at my place."

He lets out a small chuckle before lifting you once again and setting you back on your feet, his large hands rubbing up and down your bare legs. Grabbing his hand, you entwine your fingers as you pull him out of the laundry room and out of the house. Not stopping for anyone who tried to approach and greet the two of you, not interested in small talk, just wanting to get as quickly to your apartment to be with Jaehyun without interruption or unwanted attention.

Your apartment is about a ten-minute walk from the frat house but it felt like an eternity because of the handsome man next to you. Jaehyun couldn't seem to keep his hands off you the entire walk. Running his fingers up and down the smooth and warm skin of your arm, shoulder, or down the dip of your spine where the zipper of your bodysuit began, slowly running his fingers back up as he brushed a loose tendril of hair from your face.

You trembled as his large, warm palm curled around your hip and pressed a palm flat to your stomach to keep your pace matched with his as the two of you rounded a corner and walked towards your place. He would drop kisses to your shoulder every so often, as your giggling and playful swatting only encouraged him further and only made him want you more.

"Stop, Jae," You whined softly, pressing your lips together as Jaehyun lowered himself close to your ear and bit down gently.

"Don't you enjoy this?" Jaehyun is burning for you. Every time your fingers make contact with him, he becomes a puddle in your hands. Your touch is hypnotizing, and he finds his desires overwhelming his logic.

"I love it," you moaned in frustration and arousal. "But can't you wait until we get to my place?"

"I'd rather fuck you right now," His dark hooded eyes had you frozen in your spot. "Up against the building."

"I'd love that..." You clung to his arm and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "But I want our first time together to be more than against the brick walls. Please?"

You have no idea how much power you have over him. You look at him with your big, bright eyes that glisten. Your cute nose and supple, glistening lips, the soft voice, and the small hand that grabs his hand to entwine your fingers and pull him with you, eager to get him to the front door of your apartment and to the bed where the two of you would not come out from for the rest of the night.

"Fuck, princess." He says before lifting you and throwing you over his shoulder, smirking at the high-pitched yelp you let out and running the rest of the block to get you to your apartment. You were giggling the entire way, slapping at his firm, muscular shoulder. "I still think the idea of fucking you outside, pressed up against the wall, and showing you how badly I want you is great, but you've left me no choice, princess. You asked, and I shall give."

You bite your lip to stifle the whine that escapes your throat when he says how badly he wants you, but a faint noise comes through regardless.

"So pretty, Princess," he coos as he keys in your door code. Once inside, he deposits you by your sofa. He is on you in an instant, kissing the breath from your lungs and filling you with his touch and his scent as his hands and his body blanket yours, caressing your back, making your blood simmer with need. You are holding on to him and grabbing at the collar of his white T-shirt to pull him closer to your needy, wanting, burning body. You kiss him back with hunger. A desperation and a relief to finally show him your affections and wants.

He groans into your mouth and gives you a little bite as his fingers curl on the back of your neck. He breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes. Your faces are inches apart, and he grasps your wrists. He has such large hands. It does things to you. Especially when it's cupping your neck or wrapped around the tops of your thighs. You whimper a bit when his hand tightens, holding you firmly as he places the other on your cheek. You can't think of anything besides Jaehyun as he crushes his mouth back against yours, his tongue exploring every inch, exploring and teasing. Your heart thumps at a steady pace, matching the pulsing throb between your legs.

"I want you, please." You whimper softly. "All of you."

Jaehyun palms himself. God, your begging was like honey to him, so thick and so sweet. You were going to drive him insane and he is going to enjoy every minute of it.

"Fuck Y/N, if that isn't the hottest thing," Jaehyun growls lowly, voice raspy, taking another taste of you, moaning quietly against your lips.

Your fingers grasp at the back of his neck, tugging gently at his hair. You are ravenous. Greedily searching Jaehyun out with your hands, trying to tug his shirt from the waist of his jeans. His fingers tangle with yours, halting your movements and giving you no room to argue or attempt to make an opening into his boxers. "Patience, love."

Love.

What? Did he call you 'love'?

"Yes, I did," He grinned, wide and white. It was as he was reading your mind. "Now shut up and let me give you the best night of your life, princess."

Fuck.

The nickname was doing things to your insides, making your core throb and clench with want. Your body thrums and tingles to the tips of your fingers, all the way down to your toes. His knee is back between your legs and you cannot control yourself as you rock back and forth against his thigh.

He huffed a breath, trying desperately to maintain any ounce of self-control that he still possessed. "If I held you up and had your arms and legs around my shoulders and fucked your tight little pussy, what do you think of that, princess? Or would you like it better if I pinned your arms behind you and bent you over your couch or spread you out on your bed and feast on your beautiful, plump pussy?"

"God Jae, you're going to kill me," You mewl and beg as Jaehyun's teeth glide against the tendons that connect your throat to your jawline. You tremble and whimper and grind against him, seeking more friction and the promise of relief and pleasure and the feeling of Jaehyun finally fucking you hard and long.

He had always been your best friend, someone you would joke and goof around with in the daylight, and at night he was the one you fantasized about when your fingers ran between the apex of your legs and worked you until your sheets were drenched with your release, and your pussy was sensitive to the point of sensitivity and your mind clouded with erotic visions of him and only him.

"You're not wearing anything underneath that bodysuit are you, princess? Tell me," Jaehyun can't resist asking. His cock twitches painfully in his jeans at your deepening blush and the way you avoid his eye when you answer. He wants so badly to slip his fingers between the swell of your ass and rub your wet slit. God, he can picture it. You are dripping all over and so ready for him and his cock. He grunts into your hair, nuzzling it.

"You're not supposed...oh god, Jae...wear anything under a bodysuit." You let out in between pants as he managed to get your skirt off of your body and throw it somewhere in your living room.

Jaehyun sucks on the tender patch of skin near your jaw, the curve of your jaw meeting the flesh of your throat and drawing out a strained and breathy sound.

He lowers himself down on the floor, taking one of your legs and draping it over his shoulder. He spreads your thighs open as he pops open the buttons to the closure of your bodysuit, running the tip of his nose against the area. You breathe harder, shaky. He presses his teeth into the inside of your thigh as he watches you squirm under him.

You aren't wearing anything underneath.

It's a fucking sight.

"You weren't lying." He breathes against your thigh, looking up at you from his spot on the floor. It makes your body flush when you see his head between your legs. God, it's turning you on. He's not even done anything yet and your pussy is clenching and pulsating with want. "Fuck, princess. You're trying to kill me tonight, aren't you? Do you know how bad I want to taste you? Please tell me you're aching for me to taste you. I can't wait any longer. Tell me. I want to hear you beg, baby."

His eyes are filled with hunger, the desire to tease, torture, and claim as they stare right back into yours, dark and delicious. They leave you a gasping mess.

"Please, Jaehyun. I've been dying for you to touch me. I need it. I need you."

"There it is," Jaehyun growls, pressing his fingers harder into your thigh and spreading you open wider, his mouth latching onto your swollen folds, sucking and licking. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he swirls his tongue around your clit and then sucks it. He moans, relishing the way your body responds. Your fingers curl into his hair. He hums and chuckles, "You taste fucking amazing."

You whimper, throwing your head back as his tongue flicks up and down the length of your slit. Your chest rises and falls at a quickening pace, unable to control the sounds leaving your mouth.

"I knew it. I just fucking knew it," Jaehyun is talking against the lips of your cunt, his voice muffled as he eats you out like a starved man. "So sweet and responsive. God, you're fucking delicious, princess."

You are panting and grinding your hips down to meet his mouth, riding his tongue as he curls it inside you.

"God Jaehyun, keep going. Don't stop." Your voice is breathy and hoarse.

"As you wish, princess," Jaehyun says before diving back in, lapping up your juices.

The noises coming from you and him are obscene. The wet sound of his tongue thrusting inside you and your pussy clenching around his tongue has you trembling and shaking and crying out, begging for more.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Jaehyun rasped as he slipped a finger in, watching as your head tilted back, mouth opened wide and letting out a loud gasp. He was curling his finger and licking at your clit. The way his tongue flicked the sensitive bundle of nerves, had you shaking and begging. "Tell me you want more, Princess. Tell me how badly you want me to fill you up."

"Yes. Fuck yes," you whined as he pumped his finger and added a second one. He was scissoring them and stretching you out.

"Do you think I can fit another finger inside?"

You shook your head, "No, too much."

"Too much?" Jaehyun teased as his free hand came up and pinched at your nipples, still confined in the bodysuit. "I bet I can, baby. You're already so full with two fingers."

"I can't...take any more, Jaehyun." You whine as Jaehyun pumps his fingers faster, the pads of his fingers stroking and rubbing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "God, Jae. It's too much. Too good."

"You're not cumming yet, baby. We're not finished here." Jaehyun growled, adding a third finger and spreading you wide. His eyes locked on to yours as he lowered his head once more and latched his lips onto your clit, sucking and licking.

He has the power to unravel you, and you have never wanted him more.

"That's it. God, look at how well you're taking my fingers. Fucking perfect."

Jaehyun is fucking you with his fingers now. You can't stop the moans that spill from your lips.

"Fuck, I love hearing those pretty little noises you make. Such a good girl. So good."

"Jae, fuck. Jaehyun, I-I-"

"I want you to come on my tongue and fingers. Let go for me, princess."

Jaehyun's thumb pressed and rubbed against your clit, the pressure building. It was becoming too much. His tongue thrusting in and out of you, the wet slurping sounds he made, and the words he breathed against your sex as he lapped you up were pushing you over the edge.

Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub.

"Fuck, baby, you're close. Let go."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cried out, and Jaehyun chuckled.

"That's right, princess. Come on my tongue, give it to me."

He was relentless and was pushing you further and further. The pleasure was intense, and you could no longer hold it in.

"Fuck, Jae. Please, please, please, I can't," You screamed.

"You can, and you will, princess." He says, voice deep and commanding.

And you did.

You’re sobbing and trembling as he works his fingers and tongue against your clit, and a rush of fluid spills out of you, covering his face and dripping down his chin. Your fingers are tugging his hair and the way his eyes meet yours and the smug grin he has on his face as he continues to lap at your juices and suck them dry, is almost enough to send you over the edge again.

Jaehyun is pulling back, wiping his mouth, and licking his fingers clean. "You came so beautifully for me, princess. Such a good girl."

"Shut up," You mumble, hiding your face behind your arm.

He chuckles and moves up, lifting the arm from your face and kissing your lips.

"It's just the two of us now, baby," He whispers against your mouth. "No need to be embarrassed. Just me and you."

"I don't think I can go again," You pout, looking up at him. "It's too much, Jaehyun."

"Not even a little bit, Y/N? Not even if I beg you? Plead with you?" He's pressing his lips against your neck and trailing wet kisses down your collarbone. "Please, princess."

"Jae," You moan softly as his fingers begin to tease and circle your nipple.

"Let me, baby. I promise I'll take care of you."

"Fine," You whisper, biting back a moan as he pushes the bodysuit up and off your body so that you are finally naked. "But you need to get naked too. It's not fair if I'm the only one."

Jaehyun's smile is soft and he leans down and pecks your lips before moving back and tugging his shirt over his head, revealing his muscular torso. He smirks and unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans and boxers down, tossing them behind him. He's standing there, fully naked, and you are sitting up on the couch and taking him in.

"Well, I guess now we're both naked." He's standing there, and he's stroking his cock and biting his lip.

You bite your lip, taking in his body. His thick, long, throbbing cock. Your eyes were wide as you whispered, "God, Jae. You're fucking huge."

"Don't worry, princess," He winks. "I'll take good care of you."

You roll your eyes, but you are blushing, and you are so turned on. You want to reach out and wrap your hands around his cock, stroking him and taking him in. Your pussy clenches and throbs. You are still sensitive from earlier, and his fingers are sliding up and down your slit, collecting your arousal, and you are whimpering.

"What do you say, princess? Wanna try and take all of me?" He's stroking himself, his dark eyes hooded and watching your face as you squirm. "Or would you rather have me lay you back and fuck you slowly?"

"Anything," You pant, desperate to have him, to feel him inside you. "God, anything."

Jaehyun smiles, and it's so fucking sexy. His eyes are hooded, and his tongue peeks out, swiping across his bottom lip, and it's like you are seeing him in a completely different light. He's no longer the guy who cracks jokes, the guy you laugh and giggle with, and the guy who always puts others before himself. He's no longer just Jaehyun.

He's a man. A beautiful, sexy, and handsome man. And he wants you.

Jaehyun picks you up and walks towards your bedroom, your arms and legs wrapped around him.

"Do you have condoms, baby?" He whispers.

"I didn't get any. I didn't think I was going to get laid tonight." You chuckle, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "But I am on birth control...so you have full permission to make a mess of me."

Jaehyun grins. "Are you sure, Y/N?"

"Yes." You breathe out. "God, yes."

He sets you down on the edge of the bed and takes a few steps back. He's watching you, his eyes never leaving yours. He's biting his lip, and he's still holding his cock in his hand.

"Come here," You whisper, reaching out.

Jaehyun walks closer and stands in front of you.

You lean forward, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and taking him in. He's large and heavy on your tongue. You're so fucking turned on, and you can't help but moan around him. You've never sucked a dick this big, and you have a feeling it won't be the last time either.

"Fuck," Jaehyun hisses. "I knew your mouth would feel amazing, baby."

Your hands are holding his hips, and you pull back. You swirl your tongue around the tip, before sliding your mouth back down.

"Oh shit," Jaehyun groans, and his hands find their way into your hair.

You can't help the soft moan that escapes you. You want to be good for him. You want to show him how much you care about him, how much you care about his pleasure, his happiness, his satisfaction.

He's so big. It's almost too much, and the way he's fucking into your mouth, you know he's close. You can feel it. He's breathing hard, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"Baby, I'm gonna come." He pants.

You suck harder, and you are determined to have him come undone. You want to watch him come. You want to see the look on his face when he releases, the sound of his voice as he groans out your name. You want it all.

"I'm so close." He moans. "God, you're gonna make me come. Fuck, fuck."

His fingers grip tighter, and his hips buck forward.

"Y/N," Jaehyun choked. His release is warm and thick, and it tastes sweet. It's almost addictive, and you're swallowing everything he has to give you.

"That's it," He's whispering, stroking your hair. "Such a good girl."

You lick the tip of his cock, and his whole body shudders.

"Oh god, baby," He moans.

You are pulling back, licking your lips, and smiling.

Jaehyun's hand moves down and wraps around the base of his cock, pumping slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Fuck, I need to be in you. Now." Jaehyun whispers, his voice deep and raspy.

You nod, and he is moving on top of you, pushing you further back on the bed. His hand is between your legs, and his fingers are dipping into your core. He's coating his fingers and palm in your juices, and he's dragging it up and down the length of his cock, hissing.

"God, baby, I'm dying to feel your pussy."

"Then stop talking and fuck me."

Jaehyun bites his bottom lip and presses his lips to yours, his tongue sliding past them, and tangling with yours. He moans, and you moan into his mouth. His cock is pressing against your entrance, and he's rubbing the tip back and forth, coating it with your arousal.

"Fuck," You cry out, and he's pushing the head of his cock in, stretching you out.

"You're so tight, baby." He breathes, and his forehead is pressed to yours, and his eyes are closed, and his jaw is clenched. You're whimpering and trembling, and you're digging your nails into his back, and it's making him grunt and groan. He's halfway in, and he's panting, and his breathing is ragged. "So fucking good, princess. God, your pussy feels like heaven."

"Please, Jae. Please," You whimper.

"You're so pretty when you beg, baby. You sound so desperate. So needy. So, fucking perfect." Jaehyun begins rocking his hips, his cock sliding further inside you. "I'm going to ruin you for everyone else, baby. I'm going to ruin this pretty pussy for anyone else. It's mine. I'm not going to share. I'm gonna take care of it."

"Jaehyun," You moan.

"I'm serious. This pussy is mine. Only mine." Jaehyun is completely sheathed inside you, and his words have your cunt clenching around his cock.

"Fuck," He hisses.

"God, Jae. You're so big. So deep." You moan.

"And you're taking it so well, princess." Jaehyun starts at a steady pace, thrusting in and out, and your nails are digging deeper into his skin. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

"Thank you," You whine, arching your back, and Jaehyun's hands move up and down your sides, his palms squeezing and caressing your tits.

"So, so, so pretty." Jaehyun's voice is thick with lust. He's fucking into you hard, and his thumb is circling your nipple. "I could stay like this forever, baby. With my cock buried deep inside your pussy. You're so fucking tight, and your cunt feels so good, baby. I could fuck you forever."

"Yes, Jaehyun. Oh, god."

"You're so wet, and so, so, so fucking perfect, princess. I could get addicted to your body, and the way your pussy squeezes around my cock."

You are moaning and whimpering, and the words Jaehyun is saying, they're driving you crazy. You don't want him to ever stop, and you are afraid that when this is over, things will change between the two of you.

"You feel so fucking amazing, princess." Jaehyun is moaning and breathing heavily. His face is buried into your neck, and his lips are pressed against your skin. His hands are cupping your breasts, and his hips are grinding down against yours. "Fuck, Y/N."

You are both panting and sweating. Your bodies are moving together in a rhythm that has you both moaning and panting, and your pussy is clenching tightly around his cock, and the wetness that's pooling around your entrance, dripping onto the sheets.

Jaehyun is grunting and hissing as he pounds into you. "I can't stop, baby."

"Me either," You whimper, and Jaehyun pulls away, and he's flipping you over. You’re now on all fours, and his fingers are digging into your ass cheeks.

"Fuck," He hisses.

"Jaehyun, please." You whine, and he's pushing his cock back inside you, and he's fucking you hard and fast, his pelvis slamming against your ass.

"So fucking tight." He's gripping your hips, and his fingers are digging into your flesh. "Take it, princess."

"Yes, oh, yes." You are crying out, and your head is thrown back, and the sounds of the slapping of skin, and the moans that are leaving both of your lips, are almost too much.

"Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl. I'd bet you want to cream all over my cock, don't you, baby?" Jaehyun is grunting, and his breathing is ragged, and you can tell that he's getting close.

"Jaehyun, fuck," You cry out.

"Yeah, I bet you do." Jaehyun is panting, and his thrusts are becoming more erratic. "You're going to cream all over my cock. I'm gonna make a mess out of your pretty little pussy."

You are whimpering and moaning, and the way he's pounding into you, his pelvis slapping against your ass, and the sounds he's making, have you ready to explode.

"Tell me, princess," He pants. "Tell me how much you love the way my cock feels. Tell me how much you love the way I fill you up, and stretch you out. Tell me how good I feel."

"Fuck, Jae," You cry out.

"I'm waiting, princess."

"Fuck, Jae. You feel so good. Your cock is so big, and it's stretching me out. It's making a mess of my pussy, and I can't help but cream all over your cock."

"Fuck, that's it, princess."

"Jaehyun, please. Fuck, don't stop."

"Never, princess."

You have never thought that this would ever happen, you and Jaehyun. You were happy being just friends, and the feelings you had for him were always pushed to the side. You didn't want to lose him as a friend, and so you suffered in silence, pining over him, and wanting him so badly.

But now, right now, in this moment, he is yours, and he is making love to you, and telling you that he has always wanted you and that he wants to be with you. And you are feeling so many emotions. You are so overwhelmed. It is a dream come true.

Jaehyun is panting, and his cock is twitching inside of you, and you are close to the edge. Your body is trembling, and your toes are curling, and your pussy is clenching tightly around his cock as he slides in and out of you.

"Fuck," You pant. "I'm close."

"Me too, princess." He is panting and grunting, and he's slamming into you, and the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through the room.

"Fuck," Jaehyun moans.

"Come on, baby," You whimper. "Fill me up, Jaehyun. Give me everything that you have."

"Yeah, I'm gonna fill your pretty little pussy up. I'm gonna fill it with my cum. You want that, princess?"

"Yes," You are gasping. "I want your cum, Jae. Please. Fill my pussy up."

"Yeah, I'm gonna paint those walls of your pussy with my cum. And then, I'm gonna pull out, and you're gonna be leaking with my cum."

"Fuck, Jaehyun."

"You're going to be a mess."

"Jae," You are whimpering.

"Your pussy is gonna be leaking with my cum. You're gonna smell like me, and everyone is gonna know you're mine."

"Yes, Jaehyun. I'm yours. I've always been yours."

"Oh, god, fuck. Y/N." Jaehyun groans and his hips continue to slam against yours. "You're so good, baby. So, so good."

"Fuck!" You are whimpering and your toes are curling, and it is the most intense orgasm you have ever had. Your whole body is shaking, and you are coming undone, and Jaehyun is fucking you through it, and his fingers are digging into your hips.

"Yeah, princess. Come all over my cock." Jaehyun is groaning and his voice is thick and deep. "You feel so fucking good."

Jaehyun's body is trembling, and his fingers are digging into your hips, and his cock is twitching. His breath is ragged, and his moans are loud and low. Jaehyun is spilling his release inside of you, his warm, sticky, seed filling up your core.

You are both panting, and the room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of your breathing, and the sounds of the sheets rustling as your bodies move together. You feel your arms losing their strength but Jaehyun's arm quickly wraps around your waist.

"I got you, princess." He breathes.

You are exhausted, and you want to close your eyes, and you can feel his hand gently rubbing your lower back.

"Hey, hey, don't fall asleep on me. Stay awake." Jaehyun chuckles.

"Jae, I'm so fucking tired."

"I know, princess, but we still have to clean you up, okay? Can you stand up for me?"

"Yes, Jaehyun," You whisper.

"Good girl," Jaehyun whispers. "Come on, I'm going to help you."

He is holding onto you, and he's guiding you towards the bathroom.

"I'll run a bath." Jaehyun is pulling away, and his fingers are brushing against your cheek.

"You don't have to do that, Jae. You can just take a shower. We can clean up together." You smile, and his fingers are tracing the shape of your jaw.

"Baby, I'm trying to be sweet. I want to take care of you." Jaehyun smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.

You can't help but blush. "I know, Jae. I just don't want you to think that you have to go above and beyond."

"Trust me, princess, I don't mind. Now, let's get in the tub."

You can feel the butterflies in your stomach, and the smile on your face, and you're pretty sure you're glowing.

The bath is warm, and the water is nice and soothing, and it's making you sleepy. You want to lean back and rest your head on Jaehyun's chest, but you know that if you do that, you're going to fall asleep.

"Hey, no sleeping." Jaehyun laughs. "You can sleep once I get you in bed, okay?"

"I can't promise anything." You chuckle.

"How about I wash your hair, and then we'll go to bed, hmm?"

"Fine," You laugh.

You have to admit, the feeling of Jaehyun's fingers massaging your scalp, and washing your hair, feels amazing. It makes you even more relaxed. Jaehyun is wrapping his arms around you, and he's kissing the back of your neck.

"How do you feel?" He asks, his lips brushing against your skin. “I didn’t hurt your or anything, did I?”

“You didn’t hurt me at all.” You shook your head. “I felt good. Really, really good.”

"You should feel really good. That was amazing."

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," You giggle.

"Baby, you have no idea."

"So, what does this mean for us?" You ask, fingers entwined with his.

"What do you want it to mean, princess?" Jaehyun asks in a deep voice.

"I want this to be real. I want you to be mine, Jae." You confess, your heart racing.

"Good, because that's exactly what I want, too. I've wanted it for a long time. I was just scared." Jaehyun says.

"Scared of what?" You ask.

"Scared that you'd say no," Jaehyun says.

"Why would I say no?"

"Because, Y/N, I'm not good for you. I'm not the guy who deserves you. I'm a mess, and I'm fucked up, and I'm not good enough for you." Jaehyun confesses.

"You're good enough for me, Jae." You assure him.

"Baby, no I'm not." Jaehyun shakes his head.

"Yes, you are." You tell him.

"Y/N, I've been in love with you for a while, and I've been terrified of telling you because I was afraid that you'd reject me. That's why I see other girls. It's to try and forget about how much I love you. But, it's impossible. You're the only girl I see." Jaehyun says.

"I guess we're both idiots, huh?" You laugh. "Here I was thinking that you only date other girls because you only saw me as a friend, and here you are, telling me that you've been in love with me the whole time."

"We really are idiots, huh?" Jaehyun chuckles.

“You know I love you right?” You turn your head and look at him.

Jaehyun looks down at you. "I love you, too."

You have never seen a more sincere smile, and the look in his eyes tells you that he means every word.

He loves you, and you love him.

And it feels like the most wonderful thing in the world.

"So, where do we go from here, Jae?" You ask.

"Well… I'd love to take you out on a date and we can start from there…" Jaehyun says, his hands gently rubbing your shoulders. "Granted that we already had mind-blowing sex, and we're taking a bath together, I think we're kind of past that stage."

You can't help but laugh.

"I'd love to go on a date with you, Jaehyun." You kissed him.

Jaehyun cups your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and his lips are soft against yours. His tongue is slowly sliding into your mouth, and his teeth are gently biting down on your lower lip.

You moan into his mouth, and your hands are grabbing at his hair.

"Y/N," Jaehyun mumbles.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you can handle a second round?" Jaehyun asks, and his hand is sliding down your back.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"I'm saying, baby, I want you. Again. Right now." Jaehyun grins.

"I don't think my legs can handle a second round, Jae." You laugh.

"That's okay, baby, we can just stay in the bath." Jaehyun chuckles, and he's lifting your hips and placing you on his lap, sliding into you. "I'll do all the work. How does that sound, princess?"

"You're insatiable, Jaehyun." You giggle, and you're cupping his face, kissing him and he's kissing you back.

"You have no idea, baby."

#kvanity #nct #nct 127 #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun x reader

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porcalinecunt · 5 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 dating two vigilante’s is already a mouthful, so much so, you’re not too shocked when you and jason give dick a little treat during his patrol ~♡

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, open relationship [dick grayson], cuckholding, phone sex, facetime, masterbation, some degradation, cumshot, jason is a hoe and dick is a shameless cuck.

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ went off the rails with this one ngl, was kicking my feet the whole time too (*ﾉωﾉ) if willing, i’ll make a pt 2 for yall <3

still nothing yet.

dick grayson sat on the edge of the Wayne Industries building, gazing upon Gothem from an eagle’s eye. seemed like the criminals he usually decends upon decided to take it easy tonight, barely making a peep besides the typical bar fights and runaway children rebelling against their parents.

but it didn’t bother him much, after all, his patrol was nearly over with bruce and cass already out ‘n about the streets. dick will finally go home, to you and his stubborn brother jason fuckin’ todd.

none of you had any clue how the things went so off the rails, starting when you suggested to your boyfriend that you wanted to try and open the relationship. dick, while hesitant at first, decided to give it a go. surprisingly, it went pretty smooth. dick went off seeing other people just like you were, yet always coming home to each other just like before.

until, someone decided to take his golden opportunity.

it wasn’t a secret that jason had the hots for you, always taking the chances to talk to you while dick couldn’t grab his attention for shit as the vigilante was too lost in his conversation with you. “dick’s a lucky one alright..” he’d say so shamelessly.

so lucky, jason hops on your ass the moment he got a hint of your open relationship. you didn’t even stop the man and niether did dick, as things quickly escalated between you and the red hood. tonight being no exception.

rinnggg! rinnggg! dick’s phone jingles to you calling to facetime him, he picks up expecting to see your pretty face greeting him. and he did!

“hey prin!—“ “oh..oh fuck!”

there you were, on your back with cum already splattered all over your stomach, you’re whole body rocking up whatever soft surface you laid on from the unseen stranger’s cock pistoning in and out of your soaked cunt.

“sorry big bro, couldn’t wait another—shit!—second for ya..”

jason’s voice rasped into the speaker, drowning out your moans. dick stared, jaw agape and pants tighter then he remembered. despite listening to your hookups, he never actually watched you get your back blown out by another man. a high pitched whine snapped him back into reality, now you’re staring right at the camara with teary eyes and swollen, wet lips.

“nghh..dick..p-pwease come home! need you to..”

another harsh snap of jason’s hips knocked a moan out of you, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your face back towards the camara. towards dick. “need him to what? c’mon [name], sing it for dickie!”

he mocked as dick already shuffled his way into the staircase, frantically fishing his leaking cock out as you clenched around jay’s girth.

“fuckkk..jason you son of a—“ dick hissed, fucking his fist to the sight of your squirming in orgasm. your knees threatening to snap together, your face flushed in embarrassment yet arousal and those syrupy, pathetic eyes staring back at his. a sight straight out of some fucked up porn for a guy with a cucking fetish.

“woah there! look at that dick..i think you’re little boyfriend’s into this, right? you brazen little minx?!”

jason’s breathy laugh of amusement harmonized with your hiccups and sobs as you creamed all over the red hood’s cock, his girth wet and coated in white as he slowed his thrusts down. dick, turned on yet aggravated that another man made you cum, threw his head back against the wall as he reached his own orgasm.

“[name], baby..look at me, please, look at me while i cum..! shit!”

dick let out a broken groan as ropes of white landed on his phone screen and onto the floor, yet he still was hard as a fucking rock. what didn’t help was that when he looked back at the facetime, you were already on all fours, ass up with your leaking pussy ready to be fucked once again.

“you might wanna hurry up, or i’ll fuck him raw again.”

jason chuckled as dick sprinted through the dark sky, already around the corner to get some well deserved payback. see who’s laughing still once you’re stuffed full of your man’s cock with the paramour watching.

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kiwriteswords · 29 days ago

Note

could you write a hotch x reader story where reader is literally a knockout bombshell and the team meets her for the first time and both are humbled and shocked tht Hotch could pull that. Also maybe she works in different department of the FBI, but not BAU and derek and others have always talked about how hot reader is but happy id they cnt have reaader that hotch can!

The Beauty and The Boss

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: Thanks so much for the request! Sorry, it took me so long to get it written :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags/Warnings: Mild language, fade-to-black smut scene, reader wears makeup, workplace flirting, commentary about reader's appearance by BAU, jealous!Hotch, mention of a Holiday party, mentions of a bar scene.

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism hides a secret: he’s been in a relationship with you, the stunning agent who turns every head at Quantico. While his team spends months admiring and teasing about you—unaware of the truth—Hotch quietly enjoys keeping the relationship private. But when the BAU holiday party reveals the truth, the team is left shocked, realizing the woman they’ve been swooning over is already spoken for by the man they least expected.

The Quantico breakroom buzzed with life as Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, a grin stretching across his face. “I’m telling you, there’s not a person in this building who doesn’t turn their head when she walks by.”

Emily Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms as she perched on the edge of the counter. “Understatement of the year, Morgan. She’s practically stopped traffic in the hallways more than once.”

Penelope Garcia, seated with her tablet, chimed in. “More like a goddess descended from Mount Olympus, wielding a to-do list and a killer power suit. The woman is unreal.”

You had no idea you were the current topic of conversation as you breezed through Quantico’s corridors. Your heels clicked against the tiled floor with the kind of authority only a seasoned professional carried. Your fitted blazer hugged your form just right, the kind of attire that screamed competence but still left a trail of stunned admirers in your wake. You were a boss, and you knew it—not in an arrogant way, but in the way a woman who worked twice as hard to get half as far in a male-dominated field knew her worth.

Little did they know that, as much as they admired you from afar, you had a certain someone who saw all those layers they missed—someone who knew how you carried the weight of your team, your projects, and your life with equal parts grace and grit.

That someone was Aaron Hotchner.

Unbeknownst to the BAU, the stoic Unit Chief had been keeping a significant secret. You and Aaron had been together for over a year. Though you both worked under the same massive roof, your respective departments didn’t often overlap—an intentional boundary to keep things professional and out of sight from prying eyes.

Aaron entered the room just as Morgan’s laughter rang out. “No, but seriously, Hotch, you’ve seen her, right? You can’t tell me someone that fine doesn’t have half the men here wrapped around her finger.”

Aaron’s sharp gaze flicked to Morgan, his jaw tightening subtly. “Morgan, shouldn’t you be focusing on case files rather than office gossip?”

Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, man, beauty like that deserves to be appreciated.”

Emily grinned. “Don’t let Strauss hear you. She’d have you running sensitivity training for a month.”

Garcia waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe Hotch is just annoyed because she’s his type. Dark hair, smart, confident—maybe there’s some unspoken pining we don’t know about.”

Aaron’s lips pressed into a firm line as he reached for a file, “Let’s keep the speculation to yourselves. We have enough on our plates without playing matchmaker.” His tone was calm but carried enough weight to signal the end of the conversation.

He didn’t let his composure falter, but inwardly, he found himself caught in a tug-of-war between amusement and annoyance. You were undeniably stunning, and he couldn’t blame his team for noticing, but their casual banter skirted dangerously close to the truth.

Later that afternoon, the sun streamed through the tall windows of the BAU bullpen, casting golden streaks across the room as you entered. Your heels echoed confidently against the polished floor, their rhythmic click commanding attention as you moved with purpose. A fitted pencil skirt emphasized the natural sway of your hips, and your blazer was tailored perfectly, hinting at the strength and grace beneath. Loose curls framed your face, falling just so, and your makeup—subtle but flawless—added to the aura of a woman who meant business.

Conversations quieted as you passed by the desks. Agents glanced up from their work, some stealing longer looks than they should have, while others leaned toward their neighbors to murmur something under their breath. You didn’t acknowledge the attention. You were used to it. Your focus remained locked ahead as you carried the neatly bound folder in your hands, its weight a mere fraction of the responsibility you carried daily.

You reached the door to Aaron Hotchner’s office just as it opened. He stepped out, his posture as straight and commanding as ever, but his sharp eyes softened for the briefest moment when they landed on you. The shift was imperceptible to anyone else, but you caught it—it was the kind of look he reserved only for you.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted evenly, his voice steady but low enough that it felt personal.

“Agent Hotchner,” you replied with a nod, the professionalism in your tone betrayed by the faint twitch of a smile at the corner of your lips.

Behind you, Morgan's voice rose in a stage whisper. “And there she is…”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your expression neutral as you extended the folder to Aaron. “I just need your signature on these budgetary adjustments. It’s time-sensitive.”

Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly as he accepted the folder, his long fingers brushing against yours briefly. “Of course,” he said, already flipping it open to skim through the pages. “Give me a moment.”

As he turned and walked back into his office, you followed without hesitation, pushing the door closed behind you. The muted sound of the latch clicking shut seemed to signal a shift in the atmosphere. The second the door was closed, your composed expression melted into something softer, teasing.

“I heard Morgan,” you said in a low voice, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes. You set a hand on your hip, leaning slightly as you watched him work.

Aaron’s lips curved into a subtle smirk as he scribbled his signature onto the documents. “They talk about you often,” he replied, not looking up right away. “Morgan more than most.”

You tilted your head, your brow arching playfully. “Jealous?”

Finally, he looked up, setting the pen down and stepping closer. “Observant,” he corrected, his tone dry but his gaze warm. He handed the folder back to you, and as his fingers brushed yours again, the slightest spark of electricity passed between you. “You look stunning today, by the way.”

“Today?” you teased, your voice dropping slightly as you tilted your chin. “What about yesterday?”

Aaron’s smirk deepened, the rare expression enough to make your stomach flip. “Every day,” he replied smoothly, his voice dipping into that low, velvety tone that sent a thrill through you. He stepped just close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne—subtle and clean, just like him.

For a moment, the space between you felt charged, but you straightened, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. “Careful, Agent Hotchner,” you said, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Someone might notice.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rare but rich. “Let them speculate.”

The corner of your mouth twitched in amusement, but you turned on your heel, your exit as purposeful as your arrival. Behind you, Aaron watched, his expression softening again as the door clicked shut. The office suddenly felt emptier without you in it, and the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

Moments after, when you stepped out of Aaron’s office, the door closing softly behind you, you nearly collided with David Rossi. The veteran profiler stepped back gracefully, offering you a warm smile as his eyes flicked to the folder in your hands.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted smoothly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “You’re lucky Hotch doesn’t have a ‘No Stunning Women’ policy in his office. Makes the rest of us forget what we’re working on.”

You gave a polite laugh, your smile measured but warm. “Always a pleasure, Agent Rossi. Don’t let me distract you too much.” With a nod, you stepped past him and continued down the hall, your heels clicking confidently on the polished floor.

Rossi watched you leave, shaking his head slightly before stepping into Hotch’s office, and shutting the door behind him. “You didn’t tell me your office doubled as a runway, Aaron,” Rossi quipped as he took a seat across from Hotch’s desk, still grinning.

Hotch didn’t look up from the report in front of him. “Rossi.”

“I’m just saying,” Rossi continued, leaning back in his chair. “Agent Y/L/N is quite the… presence. Can’t imagine you get much work done when she’s around.”

Hotch finally glanced up, his sharp eyes locking on Rossi with a calm but pointed look. “She’s one of the most competent agents in this building.”

Rossi raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin still on his face. “No offense, Aaron. I’m just appreciating fine talent when I see it. Professionally, of course.”

Hotch’s expression didn’t shift as he returned to his paperwork. “Make sure it stays professional, Dave.”

Rossi chuckled, standing up and adjusting his suit jacket. “Noted. I’ll leave you to your work, but for the record… you’ve got good taste.”

Hotch’s eyes flicked up for a brief moment, narrowing slightly as Rossi turned to leave. Once the door closed behind him, Aaron exhaled, his jaw relaxing as the corners of his mouth twitched faintly. You had that effect on people. Rossi wasn’t wrong about that, but Aaron wasn’t about to let anyone reduce you to just that. Not on his watch.

It wasn’t much later in the week when the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses filled the dimly lit bar as the BAU team finally unwound after wrapping a grueling case. At their usual table near the back, JJ, Penelope, and Emily leaned close together, conspiring with mischievous smiles. Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, his beer in hand, as he glanced across the room toward you.

You were with your own team, sitting at the far end of the bar. The laughter coming from your group was infectious, and more than a few heads in the bar had turned to admire the sharp, confident woman at the center of it all. You were a vision, dressed in a fitted, dark emerald blouse that complemented your glowing skin, your hair falling perfectly into place despite the long week.

Emily nudged Derek, her grin widening. “Now’s your chance, Morgan. She’s right there, and she’s smiling. That’s basically an invitation.”

Penelope nodded eagerly, swirling her cocktail. “Seriously, Derek. You’re Mr. Smooth—to make one of your famous sweet moves. She’s gorgeous, brilliant, and, let’s face it, probably way out of your league, but you’ve got charm. Use it!”

JJ smirked, sipping her drink. “They’re not wrong. She’s definitely the type to keep you on your toes.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment. “You ladies make a good point. Pretty boy over here has been staring so hard, I think he forgot how to blink.”

Reid’s head snapped up, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I haven’t been staring—I was observing!”

Penelope laughed, reaching out to pat his arm. “Sure, sweetie. Keep telling yourself that.”

Meanwhile, Aaron Hotchner sat quietly at the edge of the table, nursing his drink and doing his best to keep his expression neutral. He caught Rossi’s amused glance and ignored it, his attention drifting toward you. Across the room, your eyes flicked to his, and in that instant, the noise of the bar seemed to fade. Your lips curved into a soft, knowing smile, and Hotch’s lips twitched in response, his gaze steady but warm.

“Alright,” Derek announced, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Time to show you all how it’s done.”

As he sauntered toward you, the rest of the team watched with poorly concealed anticipation. Hotch leaned back slightly, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he took another sip of his drink, clearly amused.

At the bar, Derek slid into the seat beside you, his trademark charm on full display. “Well, well, Agent Y/L/N,” he began, flashing you a dazzling smile. “A woman like you at a place like this—it’s like a shooting star landing in a parking lot. Rare. Unexpected. Stunning.”

You turned toward him, your smile warm but professional. “Agent Morgan,” you greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I’m just wondering if I can buy you a drink. You look like someone who deserves only the finest.”

You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “That’s kind of you, but I’m good for now. Thank you, though.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, undeterred. “You sure? A woman like you turning down a Morgan Original? That doesn’t happen often.”

You smiled, leaning in slightly, your voice light but firm. “I’m flattered, Derek, really. But no, thank you.”

Derek blinked, clearly surprised but respectful, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame a guy for trying. You have a good night, Agent Y/L/N.”

As he returned to the table, Rossi leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “I think I know why she turned you down.”

Derek arched a brow. “Oh, yeah? Enlighten us, wise old man.”

Rossi swirled his drink lazily. “She’s already seeing someone.”

That caught the team’s attention. JJ frowned thoughtfully. “She doesn’t wear a ring.”

Emily shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. Rossi’s probably right—someone like her? Definitely taken.”

Penelope gasped. “She’s got to be dating some rich CEO type. Like a Christian Grey situation—minus the creepy stuff. You know, private jets, expensive suits, maybe even his own island.”

Reid tilted his head. “Statistically, high-powered women often prefer partners who are equally accomplished, so it’s not unreasonable to assume…”

Hotch, listening quietly, couldn’t help but chuckle softly under his breath. It was rare for him to indulge in such amusement, but their wild guesses about your personal life were too far from the truth to resist.

“Something funny, Hotch?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

Hotch met his gaze evenly, his lips twitching. “Just enjoying the show, Morgan.”

From across the room, you glanced at him again, your eyes meeting his with a spark of shared amusement. You knew, just as he did that the truth was far more satisfying than any of their guesses.

That night, the familiar warmth of your shared apartment enveloped you as you stepped out of the bathroom, your hair still damp from the shower. The soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the room in hues of gold, casting a gentle light over Aaron as he stood at the dresser, folding his tie with precision. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, and his expression was calm, though you could tell from the faint tension in his jaw that something was on his mind.

There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved—calm, methodical, and yet there was an intimacy in the gesture that always left your heart fluttering.

You crossed the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old FBI academy T-shirts that hung just above your thighs. It was soft and familiar, smelling faintly of him, and you loved how it made you feel wrapped in his presence.

As you climbed into bed, you leaned back against the headboard, watching him with a small smile. “You’re quiet tonight,” you teased, running a hand through your damp hair. “That’s usually my thing.”

Aaron glanced at you, his lips quirking slightly before he shook his head and continued folding. “I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

He sighed, placing the tie in the drawer before turning to face you, his arms crossing over his chest. “My team.”

You raised a brow, leaning forward slightly. “Oh? What did the BAU do this time?”

Aaron smirked faintly, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his watch. “It’s not what they’ve done. It’s what they keep saying.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity piqued. “Do tell.”

He exhaled, his voice even but carrying a hint of frustration. “They don’t stop talking about you. Derek, Emily, Penelope… even Reid, apparently. It’s constant.” He turned to look at you, his dark eyes warm but serious. “I’ve been patient. I’ve let it slide because they don’t know. But I think I’ve hit my limit.”

A slow smile spread across your face as you scooted closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’re jealous,” you teased, your voice light and laced with amusement. “Aaron Hotchner, stoic leader of the BAU, is jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he replied firmly, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I just don’t appreciate them… ogling you.”

You chuckled softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin against his shoulder. “You know I think it’s kind of hot when you’re jealous, right?”

He turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression softening. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” you said with a grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s sweet that you care so much. But you don’t have to worry, Aaron. I’m yours. Completely.”

He turned fully now, his hands coming up to rest on your knees as he looked at you with a rare softness in his eyes. “You have no idea how much I appreciate hearing that.”

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Good. Because it’s true.”

He kissed you back gently, one hand sliding up to cradle your cheek. When you pulled away, you saw the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Aaron lingered close for a moment, his thumb brushing your cheek in a rare display of vulnerability before he exhaled softly and pulled back. Standing, he moved toward the dresser with the same calm, deliberate manner that always captivated you.

His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, working them loose one by one. The sound of each button sliding free seemed amplified in the quiet of your shared space. You couldn’t help but admire the way the soft light played over his features—his strong jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and the faint lines around his eyes that only made him more striking.

Aaron shrugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and the scar along his side that you knew he sometimes still tried to hide. He folded the shirt with the same precision as his tie, setting it neatly aside before slipping out of his slacks and into the lounge pants he favored at night.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you teased, your voice warm and playful as your eyes lingered on him.

He glanced back at you with a small, knowing smile. “Enjoying the show?”

You grinned. “Always.”

Aaron shook his head slightly, his smirk growing as he crossed the room and slid into bed beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the familiar warmth of his body radiated toward you as he leaned back against the pillows, one arm sliding around your waist to pull you close.

“You really don’t have to worry about what your team says,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest. “I only have eyes for you.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, gently tilting your face toward his. “You’re sure about that?” he asked softly, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed the question’s seriousness.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one who gets this version of me. The rest of them don’t even come close.”

Aaron deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that still sent your heart racing. His hand slid down to your hip, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair, and for a moment, the world outside your shared room ceased to exist.

The soft rustle of sheets and the low hum of your shared laughter filled the space as your words became unspoken reassurances, translated into the way he touched you, the way he held you, the way he kissed you as though you were his lifeline.

In the darkness, as the lamp flicked off and the night stretched on, you made it perfectly clear—he was yours, and you were his, completely. Always.

The annual Bureau holiday party arrived soon after and was in full swing, the large event hall buzzing with laughter and conversation as agents and staff mingled under the soft glow of festive string lights. Tables lined with food and drinks flanked the room, and a DJ played a mix of holiday classics and upbeat pop songs. The BAU team had claimed a table near the center, already deep into their drinks and holiday banter.

Derek leaned back in his chair, scanning the room with an easy grin. “Alright, I’m calling it now. This year’s party MVP? Gotta be me. I’ve got the charm, the moves, and the mistletoe strategy ready to go.”

Emily rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. “Your confidence is astounding. Let’s see how it plays out when someone turns you down again.”

Penelope chuckled, adjusting the festive reindeer antlers perched on her head. “Maybe don’t aim for anyone who’s already out of your league, like a certain Agent Y/L/N.”

“They’re never letting that one down,” Reid laughed.

Derek smirked. “She’s not here yet, but hey, holiday parties are all about surprises. Maybe she’ll get a look and change her mind?”

JJ raised a brow. “Speaking of surprises… does anyone else feel like Hotch is acting weird lately? He’s been way too quiet during our usual teasing.” Will was at her side, with an arm wrapped over her shoulders.

Rossi, swirling his glass of whiskey, gave a knowing smirk but said nothing.

The conversation halted abruptly as the door to the hall opened, and heads turned to see Aaron Hotchner entering with you at his side.

The two of you stepped into the room, hand in hand, your fingers loosely intertwined as Aaron scanned the crowd with his usual composed demeanor. You looked radiant in a fitted emerald dress, its sleek design effortlessly elegant, while Aaron’s sharp black suit was understated yet commanding.

The BAU table fell silent, their jaws collectively dropping.

“Is that…?” Penelope started, blinking rapidly.

“Hotch,” JJ finished, her voice barely above a whisper. Will let out a breathy laugh.

“And Agent Y/L/N,” Emily added, looking between the two of you as if she’d seen a ghost.

Morgan leaned forward, his grin faltering. “No way.”

Hotch’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as he caught their stunned expressions. He led you toward the table with a calm confidence, his hand still firmly in yours.

“Evening, everyone,” he greeted, his tone as steady as ever.

You smiled warmly, giving a little wave with your free hand. “Hi, guys. Hope we’re not late.”

The team exchanged glances, still struggling to process what they were seeing.

Derek was the first to recover, though his grin was more sheepish than his usual swagger. “Well, damn. Hotch, you really know how to keep a secret.”

Hotch arched a brow, his hand resting protectively on your back as he pulled out a chair for you. “It’s never been a secret. Some things are worth keeping private.”

Emily leaned closer to Penelope, muttering, “Okay, I officially feel bad for every single comment I’ve ever made about her in front of him.”

Penelope nodded vigorously. “Same. Oh my gosh, same.”

JJ shook her head, laughing softly. “And Derek, all the flirting?”

Morgan held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t know! But I’ll admit when I’m beat. Respect, Hotch. You’re a lucky man.”

Hotch’s expression softened slightly as he glanced at you. “I know.”

Rossi, still sipping his drink, chuckled. “For the record, I knew when to quit. The first time I made a comment about her, the look Hotch gave me said everything I needed to know.”

You raised a brow, your lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh? And what look was that?”

Rossi smirked. “The one that says, ‘Say one more word, and you’re not making it to retirement.’”

“Back into retirement,” Hotch corrected with an amused look. The table erupted into laughter.

Emily leaned forward, her curiosity winning out. “Alright, spill. How long has this been going on?”

You exchanged a glance with Aaron, his hand still resting lightly on your back.

“A little over a year,” you admitted, and Hotch nodded.

“A year?” Penelope gasped. “And you managed to keep it quiet this long? I’m impressed.”

Hotch’s gaze swept over his team, his voice calm but with a subtle warmth. “We wanted to keep things professional. But we both agreed it was time.” A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes as he added, “Especially before one of you asked her out on a date next.”

The team erupted into laughter, though Derek groaned, throwing his head back. “Aw, come on, Hotch! You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

Emily smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You really did shoot your shot, Morgan. Respect for the boldness, but hindsight? Not your best moment.”

Penelope covered her mouth with her hand, barely containing her giggles. “I’m never going to stop picturing Hotch sitting back in his office, watching that go down and just... waiting.”

JJ joined in, shaking her head with a grin. “Honestly, Derek, if looks could kill…”

Derek held up his hands in surrender, chuckling despite himself. “Alright, alright! I didn’t know, okay? And for the record, I was nothing but a gentleman.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you smiled at him. “You were, Derek. I thought it was sweet.”

“Sweet?” Hotch interjected, his tone laced with playful sarcasm as he glanced at you. “I’d call it… bold.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow, your smile widening. “Aaron.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk as he looked back at the table. “But in all seriousness, I can’t blame anyone for noticing how incredible she is. I just happen to be the lucky one.”

The table quieted for a moment, the sincerity in his tone catching everyone off guard. Emily was the first to break the silence, raising her glass with a grin. “Well, here’s to the two of you. A BAU power couple if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Cheers to that,” Penelope chimed in, her eyes sparkling.

As the team raised their glasses once more, you glanced at Aaron, your fingers brushing his under the table. His quiet smile and the gentle squeeze of your hand told you everything you needed to know. You were his, and he was yours, and no amount of teasing or surprise from his team could change that.

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@justyourusualash

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds imagine #hotch x you #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords

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loserlvrss · 5 months ago

Text

꒰ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 ꒱ 김선우

summary : little innocent, top student, you, suddenly gets partnered up with the one athlete everyone at your school is obsessed with, for a homework project that turns into much more

genre : mdni !! smut, fluff, some angsty thoughts (occasionally, for the plot) athlete!sunwoo x afab!reader, school!au, pwp (a little), inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers tws : explicit sexual content, language, pet names, body worship, praise, dirty talk (but like nice), dom!sunwoo, slight orgasm denial, slight edging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (reader), almost dumbification (reader goes non-verbal for most of it), slight overstimulation, spitting in mouth (once), oral (reader), biting (once) author notes : did i get carried tf away? maybe (yes) word count : 5k

the harsh ultra-violet rays warmed your skin, sending a gentle goosebump-ridden pattern over it. you looked out ahead, watching as the soccer team practiced hard—almost daily now (only taking a break on wednesdays). a breeze passed through the air, weaving its way all around your body, which was wearing the school’s uniform loosely. you sighed, looking up to the wave of lustrously-green trees against the clear-blue sky.

your body was relaxed, leaning ever-so-slightly back against the bleacher behind you. your hand came up when a particularly bright ray shined through the dark leaves of late spring and you blocked it. then, just as you were about to let it fall back down, your attention caught on one particular member of the team, when a shout of victory wafted into your ears: kim sunwoo.

he was the main character of your daydreams, racing heartbeats, and physical ache. you knew it was stupid to be caught in his grasp, like the rest of the school was. you knew you weren’t special in the way you’d look at him longingly—so desperate for any kind of appraisal from the athlete.

however, unlike the rest of the female (and male) population, you were contemptuous with your delusion over him. even if it was an unrequited love, you were closer with yourself—and schooling—in its result. your parents definitely weren’t complaining with your top-student status and class president tasks.

it seemed like a win-win, but still, you sometimes caught yourself wishing for more in the loneliness of the night; when your mind was the best at focusing on things it shouldn’t. you’d imagine things you’d rather keep in the depths of your archives. secrets you were prepared to take to the grave: everyone loved sunwoo, but no one knew you did as well.

the prejudice was that you were too caught up in said studies to even look up, especially not in his direction. you had only a couple of friends, ones you truly trusted with your life, and even they had no clue about your feelings for the soccer player.

you watched his celebration, a fist pumped into the air and a bright smile that caused a blush to litter your cheeks. In moments like these, you were glad he really had no idea you existed when you weren't standing right in front of him. he high-fived the team members, walking over to the sidelines and throwing a small towel over his shoulder.

it was honestly a little pathetic the way you couldn't peel your eyes from the way his muscles strained against the spandex of the shirt, or the way the sweat would roll down his perfectly sun-kissed skin. the softness of the genuine smile that pressed against his mouth and up into his eyes, the ones that flirted so effortlessly with his slow and cool mannerisms.

genuinely, when he looked so good, it made it hard for you to not drift off into another fantasy where he’d walk up to you and sweep you off your feet like a prince in a fairytale—and, he always looked this good.

you huffed out a breath, one you weren’t even sure if you were holding or not, and crossed your legs over one-another. you narrowed your eyes (in some weird attempt to zoom in), swearing you could see the man of your dreams—and reality—walking in your direction.

He flashed a devilish smile, you weren’t convinced was meant for you, breaking from the teammates he’d been walking with. his eyes met yours, and for a moment you thought you were asleep—or dead.

frankly, you think this scenario would suit a chuckle from the athlete who watched your eyes go wide as he further approached.

he took a long drink from the bottle in his hand, holding said eye contact as he lightly swallowed. you mimicked him with a dry throat, admiring how his adamsapple bobbed with each gulp.

he straddled the bench, setting his things between his open thighs. “y/n?” he asked as he raked a hand through his sweaty hair. you couldn’t look away, like a must-watch thriller that you’d spent your hard earned money on. you could feel the way your heart rattled your ribcage, just aching to escape and feel his against it.

an audible hum left your lips in reply. you could feel the heat that radiated your features and spread throughout your body. and, you knew, despite opposition, that he could see its pink shade.

the one-sided tension was suffocating. you shifted uncomfortably—or maybe in some desperate attempt to ease the ache—and clasped your hands together. then, once again, he smiled at you. your heart didn’t know whether to shatter or melt in the presence, which you’ve only been able to see up close a couple of times.

“your place or mine?”

you wouldn’t have believed the way your eyes could grow three-sizes larger than they already had previously.

“w-what?” you choked out.

he chuckled at your flustered state. “ms. park posted the partners for the group-projects.” he stated matter-of-factly. “and, guess what class president?” you all but asked what; gulping loudly, tensing your legs together, as well as your fingers and lips. “we’re partnered.”

you wanted to play it cool, but the excitement at the revelation was fast-approaching. you’d never had the opportunity to see him outside of school—and granted, it was still over school-work but, a win was still a win in your book.

“o-oh!” you ragged out along with a shaky breath. “right, i was waiting until after practice to ask you about it.”

you lied.

you had no idea that the groups were announced. you just spent your free-time on this bench pretending to do work often enough that it seemed reliable.

his eyebrows rose, like he could see right through your antics. it was honestly a little intimidating; or maybe that’s not exactly the right word to describe the feeling hot-spotted in you.

he glanced back at the field momentarily, watching the rest of his teammates leave the outlined grass. “whatever you say, class president, but i knew exactly where to find you… except on wednesdays.” the undertone was something you couldn’t read, just out of your depth, but still plunged you further into curiosity. “we’ll go to my place then, and i’ll shower while you get started. how’s that sound? practice is done anyways.”

you wanted to protest his offer, but there was something intoxicating about seeing his room and smelling the cologne that lingered in the air. the shampoo and body wash that would waft out to you. you’d dreamt about it, and simply, you wanted to see if it was anything like the picture you painted in your head.

“i can just meet you later—you can shower in peace.” you started to pull the phone from the bag at your side, opening it, and holding it in his direction. “maybe, in like two hours?”

he took hold of the machinery. “what’s the fun in that? you could’ve joined me if you got too bored.”

you laughed painfully, shifting once again at the heat between your thighs. you wanted to accept the offer more than anything, however you know you shouldn’t.

but, what was the fun in that?

“a shame.” he chuckled lightly, holding the phone back out to you after inputting his number and texting himself the address. “i’ll see you then, y/n.”

it was the exact house number you were now staring at, eyes shifting between the text on your screen and the apartment door. it had been a little over two-hours, you having to hype yourself up before you left. and you had decided to relax by taking a bath as well, getting a little carried away with your imagination—which ultimately caused you to be late as well—but, you didn’t think delinquent-athlete, sunwoo, would care all too much.

“you could’ve knocked,” you hadn’t realized the door was now open, revealing the dimly lit (because the curtains were closed and it was approaching 6pm) living space. “or called.”

“s-sorry. i wasn’t sure if this was the right place.” you watched as he moved aside, creating just enough room for you to brush past him, giving you an oh-so desired smell of his cologne.

you cursed yourself for getting so worked up over the little things he’d do, but now you were finding it hard to believe that that wasn’t his intention. he kept you coming back for more, and you were always eager.

“do you want any water?” he asked, watching your frame stand awkwardly in his living room. “my rooms over there, i have a couple of things for you.”

you choked again. “f-for me?”

he laughed. “to use on the poster, y/n.” and he mumbled something after that you weren’t able to catch.

your head panned as he walked to the kitchen, ears listening to the light rattle of glass cups and running water. you plastered your hands to one another politely, scanning over the couple pictures sunwoo did have laying about; his apartment only had the necessities. the few pictures were ones of a younger girl, who you assumed to be his little sister—who he obviously loved enough to display. but you thought there must’ve been more to them, to him, and deep down you knew you’d like to find out one day; to comfort him in his time of need. to be his.

sunwoo came back, two glasses in his hands as he motioned for the closed door on your left. “you can open it, i’ve got nothing to hide from you.”

you don’t know why those words made you blush, maybe it’s because they’re from him, and anything from the athlete is enough to send you reeling.

your hand trembled as it reached to the knob. “oh, okay.” you said, trying to block it with your body. “i was thinking we could start with reading the book a little bit more, to familiarize ourselves with the data before making the final draft. that’s if you don’t mind?”

the door swung against its hinges, making the site of a dark, but minimalistic room meet your view. you took in the smell of cologne, but it didn’t seem to be overpowering like he had just sprayed it around carelessly. his bed was neatly made, black sheets and black pillows placed meticulously: as if a house keeper had been around to do it for him.

he placed the glasses against the wood of his nightstand, a charger and lamp being the only other decor on it.

he pressed the lamp and illuminated the room just a little more. “not confident, class president?”

“that’s not it,” you blurted out, his brows knit and arms crossed as he awaited your explanation. you could barely look in his direction, biting your tongue to not say: i just get flustered enough to forget around you.

“i, uh, it’s just that… nevermind. let’s begin!”

he huffed out another laugh, his actions too fast for you to process as his hands met your shoulders, pushing you to sit on his bed.

your eyes seemed to be in a perpetually widened state, but you found it telling that you put up no protest. the bag on your back made it into your lap, and you unzipped it, taking out multiple pens, markers and whatnot to make a decent poster. sunwoo had grabbed a paper, putting it on the floor and holding out his book for you to take. your hands brushed as you accepted it, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

you began to lay a couple of your class-taken notes onto his bedding, and sunwoo made his way around to the other side. he plopped down onto his stomach, making you bounce slightly.

“you know, class prez, people think you’re scary. you’re always studying, you barely look up, and when you do it’s to tell people off because they’re interrupting said studying.” you tried to read over the notes, but found it hard to ignore the harmonies within his voice. and that your leisure-clothes were getting too warm around your skin. “but they don’t know you, i guess. you’re smart but i bet you know how to have, at least, a little fun, don’t you? and, it’s no secret the school thinks your looks are top-tear. it’s just a shame you reject everyone that asks you out. it’s a waste of your time, i presume. anyways, that’s enough. let’s get started, shall we?”

“w-why?” you asked in such a hushed breath that sunwoo barely heard it. and if he lived with anyone else, or if a car or plane went by at the perfect time, he wouldn’t have. “why is that a shame?”

“because you are beautiful, y/n.”

fuck your clothes, your skin was getting too hot against you. your breath was labored, and now the words on the paper were congregating. you couldn’t focus with sunwoo next to you, and that’s exactly what you feared.

why’d you have to ask? curiosity did kill the cat.

the way you shifted didn’t go unnoticed by the athlete and he let out a chuckle that should just be his signature at this point.

he sat up now, burning his eyes into the side of your head. “what’s wrong, y/n?” he asked, but you refused to look away from the notes, even if you couldn’t get your mind to read them. “has no one ever called you that before?”

you bit your lip, thumbs ripping at the skin around the nail. truthfully, yes, one person has called you that, but it didn’t feel the same as when he did it. sunwoo made your heart beat out of your chest, breath leave your lungs so fast it made you lightheaded. he made you weak in the knees, like you were just jelly to begin with, melting in the sun.

you felt a soft hand reach across you, taking the farthest cheek within his palm and focusing your vision towards himself.

his skin felt like fire against you, but even this smallest touch made you crave more, made you need him in a more than innocent way. and, you were starting to believe his intentions were exactly the same as yours.

your eyes finally focused at the feeling on his hand sliding to rest against the side of your neck, as if he was caressing it, running his thumb over your windpipe gently.

you’d never seen sunwoo so close to your face, but you had imagined it, and it was nothing in comparison. he was beyond beautiful, a sight to see: tan skin untainted by pores and blemishes, soft features like his lips that contradicted, but complimented shaper ones such as his eyes and nose. he was the perfect harmony in your opinion, the perfect—

“god, y/n. i must be crazy.” he broke you from your admiration, breath hitting your lips. “would you treat me any different from the guys who have asked you out in the past?”

god, yes.

your stomach was beyond knots now, the whole damn zoo being let loose. your hands were gripping the sheets at the anticipation that seemed to be agonizing enough to kill you where you sat. in reality, sunwoo wasn’t even doing anything, but he had you at his fingertips, and you weren’t convinced you couldn’t pass out right now.

“fuck, maybe i am crazy…” his eyes flicked to your lips momentarily. “do you want this? i know i’d be interrupting your studying, class president.”

and you don’t know where your confidence came from, but the way you closed the gap was desperate. however, sunwoo put up no protest, and quickly gained control over the situation.

his other palm pulled you by your cheek to deepen the kiss. well, that was until he had enough of the angle you were sat at and gripped your thigh to fully get you onto his bed.

he was a good kisser, a great one in fact, and it made you crave his lips in other places to experience the full effect.

now he was pushing your body by your lower back, trying to get you as close to him a possible, and as if you could read minds, you threw your leg over him to straddle his lap.

he broke the kiss. “good girl.” he said before reconnecting with the skin on your neck, and smiling against it when he heard you whine quietly. you could feel him growing hard underneath you, and wondered if he’d take this all the way, wondered if he wanted you like that. “you do want this, don’t you?”

inside your head you couldn’t help thinking that maybe you weren’t desirable, maybe he was only doing this to prove a point: that the whole school was within his grasp. maybe it was to brag tomorrow, as locker room chatter before soccer practice, because why would sunwoo like you outside of your delusions?

his arms caged you against him, stoping all minor movements and actions. he looked into your eyes, and for a moment it’s like the world had ceased. the only thing you could hear was the thumping within your own chest and the echoes of your doubts.

“do you want me, sunwoo?”

he kissed your lips gently—almost lovingly—before stating. “more than anything right now.”

and you wanted to ask if it was only right now that he wanted you, but you couldn’t will that to leave your lips, as his eyes locked onto your own, mixing like watercolor.

you’d wanted him to want you for a long time, so you hoped it wasn’t only now that he felt the same.

“are you okay?”

your palms now laid against his cheeks, biting your bottom lip, half-nervously and half from feeling his hands curve where the seams of your thighs met the underside of your ass. you pulled him quickly back to you, breaking away only to mumble a quiet yes before being fully taken over by your lust.

he flipped you over quickly, and you found comfort between his soft pillows and blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, slotting himself in between to attach back on your already swollen lips.

his voice came out in a hushed tone, only for you. “class prez, has anyone had you like this? have they seen how perfect you look with messy hair and puffy lips? i bet you’d look so cute crying, wouldn’t you?” you whimpered at the words—the thought—you wanted him to think you were cute, attractive in any way, it was human nature after all; and everything about this was primal. “how far do you want me to go?”

your voice was once again barely audible over your own heartbeat. “whatever you want.”

“yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

you were beginning—ignoring all previous warnings—to feel overwhelmed, his tongue sending you into overdrive. you didn’t know what to do as you felt him ghost his lips on your collar bone, then down over your chest, eventually landing at your stomach. he pushed the fabric up, latching down onto your hip bone, which had you shifting to get any sort of friction on your core.

all his minuscule teasing was actually beginning to feel painful, but he got the hint. you knew he would.

sunwoo grabbed at the waistband on your pants, looking up to you for reassurance, but you just lifted your hips to make it easier for him. he chuckled, pulling both of the fabrics blocking you from him down.

you heard him mumble something along the lines of pretty as he placed open-mouth kisses against your inner thighs.

one thing about sunwoo is that he left you no room to feel self-conscious or embarrassed. he knew how to love you right, (you didn’t want to know why that was) and was determined to show you that.

you might not have believed this was something more than locker-room chatter, but now…

you moaned when he finally attached to your aching clit, sucking gently before alternating between kissing and licking at your slit. your hand covered your mouth out of embarrassment at the sounds that you couldn’t stop from making. truthfully, the last (and only) guy you were with didn’t even make you finish, so you didn’t have to worry about being too loud—or god forbid, annoying.

but, sunwoo hated that you weren’t letting him hear how good he was doing. he wanted the praise just at much as you did, nonetheless he let you continue. he’d let you until you were completely at his mercy, malleable under his touch. he’d let you because that made you comfortable.

and, to be honest, it still fueled his ego.

“c-close,” you managed to mumble through your fingers, eyes squeezed shut and head lulled back. “woo, please?”

and that fact that you had asked him almost made him cum untouched. so, you were his? he thought to himself, before he groaned into your pussy at the feeling of your fingers attaching to his hair, only adding to your pleasure.

the hands squeezing your plush thighs pulled you closer to his face, close enough to suffocate, but he’d die a happy man.

he continued to eat you out like a starved man, only bedrudgingly pulling away right before you had the chance to properly orgasm.

“w-wait!” you tried to push him back, frantically searching for the edge you were just about to topple off. “w-wh—sunwoo, fuck, d-don’t stop. please.”

tears were pricking your eyes out of frustration—the whole thing being so emotionally and vulnerably charged, you weren’t sure you could hold them back. then, shivers were sent throughout your shaking body as he soothed over your sides and stomach with his hands, lips back to their spot on your thighs.

he propped himself up, staring down at the godly figure he never truly thought you’d let him see. and after a minute, you got embarrassed at the strong gaze on your glistening core; your knees coming together.

his fingers slotted between them, pulling your legs apart. “don’t hide from me, baby. you’re so beautiful—god, all for me, right?”

you whined, quickly sitting up and reaching out for anything he’d give you.

sunwoo kissed your lips again, keeping you at his level with a hand on the small of your back and one gripping the hem of your shirt. you were dizzy from the taste of yourself on him, sunwoo only breaking apart to get the fabric up, and fully over your head. he took off your bra and suddenly the realization that you were fully naked in front of the prized soccer captain, while he was fully clothed, sunk in.

you whined again, too drunk off him to formulate anything coherent. he laughed at how desperately you were pawing at his sweats. “what’s wrong?”

you looked up at him. “fuck me?” and if your eyes weren’t the definition of puppy-dog, he didn’t know what was.

he smiled, grabbing your wrist. “patience, baby. i’ll give you what you want.”

you fell back again, opting to obey him because you were honestly too far gone to come up with anything else to do.

and he did, taking off his sweats, along with the rest of his clothes and pressing his body to yours. his lips were connected back to you and you clawed at his shoulders—anything to ground yourself—while his held your torso down firmly.

he looked between your bodies as he lined himself with your entrance. your head was thrown back, and he pressed a chaste kiss to the middle of your neck before mumbling. “you are pretty when you cry, y/n.” and pushing in slowly.

the stretch only burned for a minute until you moaned almost embarrassingly loud with each shallow thrust. a hand instinctively come up to hide them away. but, that only lasted so long until sunwoo intertwined his fingers with yours, pushing them into the bed on either side of your head.

“don’t hide them, baby,” he sighed against your lips. “please.”

and, whether you wanted to or not, you didn’t have a choice. the noises fell freely from your lips into his shoulder, as he sucked and nipped at your neck again.

“i-is it good?” you could barely hear him, your ears ringing with pleasure; was it good? is he stupid?

you choked on a chuckle, feeling him angle himself just perfectly inside you to brush against your g-spot. “holy fuck,”

“right there, baby?” he did it again, taking notes and storing them away in the back of his mind. your head lulled back again, and he watched your face contort, mouth falling open. “does it feel good?” you couldn’t reply, his thrusts only getting harder after that.

you could feel the band in your stomach tightening, and you feared you wouldn’t even be able to tell him you were getting so close, so fast—too fast.

but, somewhere deep-down, he already knew.

“fuck, you feel so good, y/n.” he sighed, lips ghosting over yours. “i must be the luckiest man in the world, right?” it was rhetorical, but even if you felt the need to answer, all that was coming out of your mouth was moans, groans, and mewls. “perfect body—fuck—perfect personality, perfect pussy, perfect fucking mouth,” he grabbed your chin, your free hand now going to clutch into the skin on his arm. his eyes met your tear-filled, and blurry ones. “open your mouth,”

there was a fire within you when you did as he said, mouth falling open. he spat on your tongue, and you didn’t know whether you came right then or just flat-out died.

“swallow it,” he said—no, demanded—almost making it an impossible task by putting his fingers into your mouth, pushing them to the back of your throat, and making you gag around him. he felt you clench harder at the act. “gonna fuck this throat one day, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you would.

but, he was spewing heated words into a brick wall. “you’re mine, right?” he asked, taking his saliva-covered fingers from your mouth and bringing them between your bodies.

the moment his fingers landed on your clit, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. the hand that was still intertwined with his was losing circulation from how hard your were gripping it, and the other was scratching his perfect skin hard enough to bleed.

no one had ever made you feel so cold, yet so fucking warm at the same time. nothing you've ever experienced has been as intense and kim sunwoo; the delinquent soccer player. you feared no one could ever make you feel like this again.

so, of course you were his.

“look at me, y/n.” he whispered, kissing along your jaw gently—in contrast to the heavy and hard thrusts he kept at a steady rhythm. “c’mon, y/n, be a good girl. please.”

you felt the impending desire to now, head leveling. his forehead then came to rest against it, fighting off your urge to let it roll back again.

he pecked your lips between sentences. “mine, right?” god, he kept asking an obvious question. “be mine, okay? cum for me,” he circled your clit faster, determined to make you finish one last time. “i got you.”

his voice alone was enough to make you topple over the edge, your noises raising a couple octaves. your vision went white, body convulsing under sunwoo, who kept his eyes on your face the entire time; in awe of you. he fucked you through it of course, mumbling praises, before the overwhelming feeling of fire bloomed between you two; disguised by overstimulation.

you mewled. “woo, p-please stop.” he kissed you quiet, slowing down. but, you didn’t actually want him to stop. “h-hurts… just a little,”

his hand intertwined with yours again. “being such a good girl—taking it so well. just a little more, okay? i promise,” he sighed, feeling the way your walls clenched him in, barely letting him pull out, only causing him to thrust harder. “almost there, y/n, where do you want it?”

your legs caged him against you. “fill me up, please.” and you weren’t above begging for it, especially not in a state of post-euphoria. “cum in me.”

he threw his head back momentarily, fighting off a strong urge to start a second round. how in gods name did he get so lucky? he thought to himself, bringing his forehead back to yours.

he locked eyes onto you. “yeah?” you nodded slightly, eyes full of tears you didn’t know if you’d shed. “gonna be so good and take it all?”

you moaned when he started grinding against you, your clit being stimulated by his pubic-bone.

“could fuck you forever.” he admitted. “do you want me to?”

you spewed out a quiet yes, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being serious—maybe he was. you were too far gone to even begin guessing.

he kissed you again, desperately fighting your tongue with his. he continued to kiss down your jaw and into your neck, leaving glistening marks in his wake. he sucked on your collarbone, finding a sweet-spot you didn’t even know you had, and biting down for a second. your mouth fell open in a silent scream, an orgasm you didn’t even know was there, washing over you.

sunwoo just kept forcing you to learn about yourself—you guess, it’s a good thing you’ve always been known for studying, isn’t it?

your intense orgasm triggered his, a soft groan leaving his lips as uneven thrusts made sure you both were fully satisfied.

you felt fuzzy, brain completely melted under his touch. your heavy breathing mixed with his, his body fully collapsing from exhaustion. however, his weight wasn’t enough to suffocate you, so you let him stay where he was, breaking your hand from his and threading it into his damp hair.

the silence was loud—heartbeats intertwined—as you both came down, the reality about to set in.

would he push you away after this? did he even mea—

“i meant it, by the way.” your eyebrows creased. you weren’t even sure if you had imagined that. and, if you didn’t feel the rumbling of his chest on yours as he spoke, you might’ve believed it was only in your head. “be mine, okay?”

little did he know, you already were.

you whispered out a reply. “okay.”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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ssorenz · 7 months ago

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everybody knows that im a good girl officers!

pairing: . ݁₊ ⊹ .: sukuna ryomen n’ toji fushiguro

synopsis : . ݁₊ ⊹ baking gone wrong! (or maybe right in your case?)

contains: sexual content MDNI, spanking, degradation, full nelson position, double penetration, blah blah blaaaah.. wc: im honestly not even sure

header from: . ݁₊ ⊹: lady k and the sick man

a/n :BABE WAKE UP, DSIIRES FINALLY POSTED 🗣️‼️ but all jokes aside, hii loveliess im back 😊!! i decided to finally post something, and since this was sitting in my drafts, why not post it? i do admit the ending is kind of rushed, so please forgive me🙇🏽‍♀️ but i hope you all enjoy, comments and requests are gladly appreciated! <3

sweet, sugary, scents of vanilla and cinnamon danced throughout the air as sunlight streamed in through your lace curtains, casting warm, golden hues upon your kitchen countertops.

baking flour dusted your cheeks as a determined glint shined in your eyes, precisely measuring the ingredients for the cake you were baking. it was your best friends birthday, after all. what better way to surprise her than with a home-baked cake?

once the cake pans were safely in the oven, you let out a sigh of relief. this morning had been dedicated to baking, and you were longing for a moment of relaxation. retrieving your cellphone, you settled onto the couch, letting your mind wander as you scrolled away through the screen to pass the time for a few minutes.

but minutes turned into moments, and the once familiar, sweet aroma began to fade away. a faint whiff of something burning wafted into your nose, snapping you out of your current reverie.

panicked, you rushed to the oven, heart pounding in your chest. smoke billowed from the oven, tendrils curling ominously towards the ceiling.

with a gasp, you yanked open the oven door, greeted by a charred mess where your sweets once stood. panicking, you frantically reached for your phone and dialed the fire department.

standing anxiously outside your house, you clutched her phone tightly, desperately awaiting for the distant sound of sirens to signal the arrival of the fire department.

soon enough, the welcoming wail of an approaching engine filled your ears—and within moments, the fire truck came to a brief halt in front of your home. two firefighters emerged from the truck, and as they stepped onto the pavement, their imposing figures caught your attention.

the first firefighter, with a rugged build and striking pinkish hair, exuded confidence as he surveyed the scene. beside him, stood his colleague, tall and commanding with dark black hair, his presence radiating confidence as well as cockiness.

the males strode up to you, their boots echoing against the pavement. the salmon-haired one with distinct facial tattoos— who’s badge read S. RYŌMEN, glared at you with annoyance while his counterpart surveyed the area.

"alright, what's the deal here? we got a call about some sorta emergency, but I'm not seeing any flames. don't tell me we rushed over here for nothin’.” he spoke, his deep voice carrying an air of authority.

the raven-haired officer's— who’s badge read T. FUSHIGURŌ—eyebrows knitted together, his deep, husky, voice tinged with irritation. "are we being pranked here, girl?" he questioned snarkily, his skepticism evident as he glanced around the seemingly ordinary surroundings. however, as you apologized and ushered them inside, their expressions softened slightly, replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern.

as they stepped into the kitchen— their boots leaving faint imprints on the linoleum floor— a wave of smoke greeted them, swirling lazily in the air. the acrid smell of burnt pastries hung heavy, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. ryōmen coughed lightly, his hand instinctively reaching for the collar of his uniform to cover his nose.

fushigurō sighed heavily as his gaze fixed on the charred remnants of what was once a baking sheet. "well, would you look at that? someone tried playing chef but ended up setting the kitchen on fire," the black-haired officer he muttered, his annoyance palpable in the air as he casually observed the smoke-filled chaos before him.

“i'm so sorry for the false alarm," you apologized, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I was trying to bake a cake and—well—things got a bit…out of hand…”

the pair exchanged glances, then moved swiftly, their practiced efficiency a stark contrast to the mess you had inadvertently created. they quickly ventilated the room, opening windows and turning on fans to dispel the lingering smoke. as they moved, they checked for any remaining embers or hotspots, ensuring that the fire was completely out and that there was no risk of it reigniting.

as the firefighters continued their work, you couldnt help but stare. their tall, bulked figures were much larger compared to your own. the way you could hear their subtle grunts as they finished up their job…

lets just say, your mind definitely started to wander elsewhere..

ryōmen kneeled down and inspected the oven, his brow furrowing deeper. "looks like yer’ cake batter overflowed and caught fire," he remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. "next time, keep an eye on the oven temperature."

yet of course, you werent paying him any attention listening, too deep in the wet daydream that was playing idly in your mind. the pink-haired officer stood up and cleared his throat, “miss?”

you jumped, his voice snapping you out of the “daydream” you were having. you nodded vigorously, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush your cheeks. "i will—i promise. thank you both so much for coming so quickly."

you hurried to your cupboard to get them some water. rummaging through your cabinets, you managed to find a couple of clean glasses, and filled them with cool water from the tap. when you returned, they were just finishing up, their equipment neatly packed away.

"here," you said, offering the glasses. "please, have some water. it's the least i can do."

fushigurō took a glass with a nod of thanks, while his partner accepted the other with a grin. "thanks," he said, "surprised ya’ didnt burn the water this time…”

you couldn't help but chuckle softly, the tension of the situation easing slightly with the joke. "i try my best," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "but m’ really sorry for the trouble. is there any way i can make it up to you both?"you offered, hoping to ease the tension in the room and show your gratitude for their prompt response.

ryōmen glanced at his partner before responding, his expression twisting mischievously.

he placed his glass down as he leaned back on the kitchen table, his tall figure towering over you darkly.

“you said you’re really sorry, hm?” he spoke lowly, his crimson eyes now lowering, gazing onto you.

you nodded eagerly, unsure of what he was implying. “um, well— yes of course-“

the officers lust-laced voice spoke words you doubted you would ever hear…

"then prove it."

so here you were— half-naked in your living room, in a standing full nelson position, sandwiched between the two men that were once standing in your kitchen—now both pounding you silly.

your helpless mewls mixing with the lewd squelches your cunt made filled the empty silence in the room. fushigurō’s long, thickness was so prominent as it kneaded itself against your g-spot, making you fall into a cock-drunk daze.

"that feel good, huh'?", toji muttered, gazing lasciviously into your eyes while supporting your legs high. it was so intimate— but so naughty too, the way he was so filthy..

you nodded in reply, clearly too overstimulated to speak properly. luckily, sukuna was quick to amend your actions—sending a swift, sharp, strike against your ass.

"didn't he ask you a question? say it properly, slut, don't make us waste our breath like you did our time now," he snarled behind you. his strokes were so rugged and mean, much meaner than tojis (which was unsurprisingly fitting for the man), making you whimper breathlessly from the pleasure.

"f-feels s'good tojiiiii—“ you whined out the name in reply, hiccuping. it was true, the way they both grinded against each other, inside of you, leaving you trembling, aching with pleasure. this position requiring them hit harder, deeper, inside of your soaked, throbbing slit— it was too much.

"good fuckin' girl, look at ya'— squeezin' us so tight. yer takin' us so well," fushiguro commented, leaning in for a kiss. his scarred lips passionately met your own, letting out a soft, suppressed groan. he went deeper into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth.

his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he continued thrusting into you from the front. meanwhile, his counterpart pounded away at your stuffed cunt relentlessly; each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in both your bodies.

you found yourself lost in this sensual haze of double penetration bliss— moaning uncontrollably into toji’s mouth while feeling your hole being stretched to its limits by these two. your entire world consisted of nothing but the rhythmic movement between your legs and the taste of salty sweat on fushigurō's lips as ryōmen whispered dirty nothings into your ear that only fueled your desire even more.

sukuna’s hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you harder than before, his breathing becoming ragged in your ear with each passing second. toji followed suit by grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up high enough for him to hit a new angle inside of you— sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout every inch of your being.

“filthy whore— paying your debt with—ngh.. dick,” sukuna began, still thrusting into you, but at a much irregular pace now. “who knew such a seemingly innocent thing like you could be so dirty.. starin’ us, shit, up and down like slabs of meat..”

as the intensity of their movements increased, so did the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on the brink of orgasm yourself— and apparently so did ryōmen and fushigurō. both men let out loud grunts, no longer holding back, and began to thrust deeper. it was painfully clear that they were close to reaching their climaxes.

“damn, m’so fuckin’ close— ya gonna let us cum inside? knock up this— fuck, tight ass cunt of yers’?” toji grunted.

"please," you begged between gasps for air, "cum inside me...need it..so badly.” your voice was hoarse from the countless moans and whines that ehshshsh. your whiny, raspy pleas and helpless cries were enough to send both men over the edge. so, with one final push from fushigurō and a deep moan from ryōmen, both men came inside of you simultaneously - painting every crevice with their warming, sticky ropes of essence.

as they both released inside of you, your body was hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced. your cunt clenched tightly around their cocks as they emptied themselves into you, milking every last drop from their swollen, pulsating shafts.

your eyes rolled back into your head— a mixture of pain and ecstasy that left you breathless moments afterward. tears streamed down your face from the sheer intensity of the orgasm that coursed through every inch of your limp body.

the room was silent for a moment as the three of you caught your breath. you could feel their cum slowly dripping out of you as the two men pulled out, leaving behind a sticky mess beneath them.

looking up, toji’s lust-filled stare met your own, a small scar-ridden smirk decorating his face. “that was fuckin’ incredible, god,” he said before ryōmen spoke teasingly behind you..

“but you know, theres better ways to get fucked then damn near burning your house down..”

#jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk #jjk smut #dsiires blog #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #sukuna smut

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lyrefromthesea · 6 months ago

Text

Male pillars x reader - bringing them their favourite food.

author's note: due to a comment I've received on an earlier post, i'll not write for Muichiro anymore. i've stated before that i do not write sexual content for minors, nor do i engage in writing romantic relationships including them. everything i've written for him was seen as a platonic relationship between him and the reader. since my statement fell in deaf ears, i've decided to leave him out completely. i do not feel comfortable mentioning him in my posts anymore, my deepest apologies.

request: how would the pillars react to receiving their favourite food from you?

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

Tengen:

you were standing in the kitchen, whistling to yourself. today had been good so you decided to make your husband a little treat.

the market had been rather full, but you walked through the crowd and bought the ingredients you needed for his favourite dish.

seaweed. rice. and already prepared fugu. it had taken quite some time to find it, but you did it nonetheless.

standing in the kitchen, you had already made a plate of fugu sushi. at least that's what you thought. when you turned around to place another piece on the plate, it looked like there was one missing. have you forgotten one?

placing your finished piece on the plate, you turned around to make more. finally, you would be finished-

and another one was gone.

"Tengen! stop stealing the fugu sushi!" you scolded, not surprised when you heard quiet footsteps behind you. he wasn't a shinobi for nothing.

"sorry, darling. you looked so flamboyant, i didn't want to interrupt you!" he answered, wrapping muscular arms around you. a laugh escaped you, feeling him place his chin on the top of your hair.

"have i ever told you that you're the best?" he teased, finally freeing you from his embrace.

"i already know, that's why we're married."

Obanai:

you placed a bowl of tororo konbu right in front of him, telling him that you tried your best. naturally, he thanked you, but he didn't dive in like you would've expected him to do.

"what's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had messed up the dish. it was your first time making it, perhaps you had missed a step or overcooked something.

"i.. could you maybe..?" Obanai asked, he appeared much more timid than usual. you tried understanding what was wrong.

seeing his finger brush against his mask, you understood, he still felt insecure about his face. you hadn't been in a relationship for long, he probably needed time to get used to this. "of course."

"just know that i would never judge you for what i see." you added, placing a kiss on his temple. truthfully, you were saddened about his request, but you wanted to give him the time he needed.

Obanai, on the other hand, was touched by your words. his meal long forgotten, he stood up, taking your hands in his.

"we should marry."

you looked at him, first shocked, and then you started laughing. perhaps he overreacted just a bit, but who could blame him?

Rengoku:

sweet potatoes. so many sweet potatoes.

when you've told Rengoku you could cook his favourite dish in the near future, he had been incredibely happy about it.

he came back with a load of sweet potatoes the next day, his whole head nearly dissapearing behind the amounts of the root vegetable he had bought.

now, another day later, you put miso soup and sweet potatoes for two on the table, smiling at your enthusiastic husband. he had offered to help you the whole time, which eventually led you to ban him from the kitchen.

he nearly devoured the dish as soon as you were sat on the opposite side of the table. it made you chuckle, seeing him swallow the huge bite he took down.

"umai!"

"you've outdone yourself, i'm glad i brought some sweet potatoes home!" he brightly smiled, earning another laugh from you. some sweet potatoes?

"Kyojuro, you brought a ton of them home." you countered, pointing at the rest of the potatoes you've put on the counter for now. "that will probably be enough for a month worth of miso soup with sweet potatoes!"

"sounds good, don't you think?"

Sanemi:

Sanemi plopped down on the engawa, letting out a heavy sigh. training had been rather hard, but he needed to stay fit. nevertheless, his muscles ached and he could really take a break.

he debated over going inside, he trained enough. a shower wouldn't hurt, he was sweating, dampened hair was sticking to his forehead. the man sighed, standing up to finally move inside.

however, when he saw you standing right behind him, he froze. you were looking up at him with wide eyes, as if you tried surpising him. he looked down at your hands - you were holding something - only now realizing that he had been right. you did try to surpise him.

he looked at the plate in your hands, it was filled with ohagi. his favourite food. his eyes moved back to your face, watching you tilt your head.

"it's for you." you told him, tilting your head to the side. "let's go inside, you've trained enough." you smiled, nodding towards the door. he nodded, following you into the kitchen. you placed the ohagi down on the counter, watching him slowly take one.

"you didn't have to." he said, already having bitten into the one in his hand. you chuckled at his words, he had nearly eaten the ohagi with one bite, yet he claimed he didn't need any.

"i needed a reason to get you away from training." you admitted, a sly smile on your face. but both of you knew he would've listened to you no matter what.

"i would've stopped anyways." he answered, placing the ohagi he had picked up to the side. he came closer, watching your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"what? why?" you asked, not questioning why he came closer. in a matter of seconds, you were in his arms, your eyes squeezing shut in disbelief.

"i wanted to shower." he smirked, basically squishing his sweaty body against yours. you let out a whine, trying to free yourself from his hug, but only managing to do so when he let go.

"great, now i can shower too!" you scolded, seeing him laugh to himself. he walked towards the bathroom, seemingly wanting to wash himself.

"let's eat the ohagi after you're finished."

Giyuu:

Giyuu didn't know what he had expected when he came home today, but he certainly didn't think it would be the smell of freshly cooked food.

no, scrap that. he was often greeted by the nice smell of a promising meal. this was different. it wasn't just any meal.

"welcome home, Giyuu." you greeted, watching him step into the kitchen. you looked content, already knowing that you would make him happy.

"are you hungry? i prepared something for you." you smiled, seeing him nod slowly. when you moved away from the table, his gaze wandered towards the bowls full of food.

your gaze was fixed on him, wanting to catch his reaction. he wasn't the type to voice his happiness, but you certainly caught the way he looked at the salmon daikon you made.

the lightest twitch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes narrowed showed his interest. he stared at the food for a moment, the quiet grumble of his stomach revealing how hungry he truly was.

but he didn't immediately start eating. instead he looked back at you, his gaze softening.

"i've got you this" he muttered, extending his hand towards you. you stared in awe, a small bag of your favourite sweets being placed in your hands.

"let's eat them for dessert, Giyuu."

Gyomei:

when you brought home the ingredients for takikomi gohan. you have wanted to surprise Gyomei with his favourite dish.

you stood in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables into small pieces, as you hummed to yourself. Gyomei should've been home in an hour, at least that's what you've thought.

"i'm home." you heard his deep voice call from the hallway. your head snapped up, looking at the ingredients and then towards the door. you wouldn't have enough time to put everything away. before you even had the chance to react, he already came through the door.

"..are those?" he stopped in the doorway, his head turning towards you. you knew he was blind, but his ability to detect your exact location surpised you ever so often.

the smell of his favourite food hung in the air, almost as if the world had wanted to ruin your surprise.

"i wanted to surprise you." you admitted, lowering your head. you knew he wouldn't be disappointed, but you've planned this since last week. he must've sensed your sadness, walking towards you and putting his hand over yours.

"i can help you, let's cook together." he offered, carefully taking the knife out of your hand. truthfully, you nearly objected, not wanting him to hurt himself, however, you nearly chuckled thinking of the large weapon he was wielding.

"let's call it a cooking date then." you smiled, opening the drawer to get a second knife.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tengen uzui #tengen x reader #obanai iguro #obanai x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #gyomei himejima #gyomei x reader

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ghettogirly · 6 months ago

Note

Hi lovely can you one for Armando x reader. Armando , Mike, Marcus, doesn't know what the reader does for a living. She find out thing before they do , skilled in everything. ( Whatever you want her to be). The reader takes the spot of reggie. Armando call her instead of Marcus. They get scared for her but just wait until they find out.

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄:

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑!

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏.

-> synopsis: Where armando calls you to warn you that you have trouble coming you way and to go hide somewhere safe. Little do they know, you can do more than hide.

-> warnings: spoilers for bad boys ride or die, mentions of violence.

[🕷️] author’s note: thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

Your first encounter of Armando was when he was released to be the new member of AMMO to repay his debt to the state for his crimes. He walked in with his father, Mike, in an alluring manner. You was a helper for the team, however currently unemployed. Failing to find your place in society.

The mexican-born male wore a black co-ord , tight to his chest and flattering in all the right places. His hair slicked in gel, the sides of his head faded with a scar at the side of it.

You both grew quickly closer, spending each day with each other even with the stares of judgement people descended onto you.

“He has killed countless people.”

“He’s a criminal, they should lock him up and throw away the key.”

“Armando Aretas. The animal who should be put down.”

It did hurt you for a while, leading you to deny your feelings for him. Until one day, after a passionate night with him, you tried to briskly leave in the middle of the night.

“Where are you going?” The males voice croaked out, his voice deeper than usual due to the vocal cords enlargement throughout the night.

“I need to go home, i’ve spent too long being here.”

A scoff is heard.

“Yeah. No surprise there. Running out of excuses are you?”

“ Its not an excuse i just have something to do at..”

“Guárdalo, solo vete. Te han lavado el cerebro las opiniones de otros y no quiero escucharlo más. Ahórrame los detalles.” Venom dropped off the latino’s tongue as he dismissed you away. Sadness overcame you as no words came out of your mouth.

Days went by, Armando never spoke to you. Tension flushed by you guys whenever you was by each-other in a room. One day, you couldn’t handle it no more and you grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn and look at you.

“I’m sorry. You’re more than just an animal or a criminal. I know i don’t even deserve for you to forgive me but i need to get this off my chest. I am so sorry Armando.”

You feel his arms engulf you in a hug as tears roll down your cheeks, embarrassed at how easily influenced you were from everyone’s opinions. “no llores mi amor, I forgive you.”

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏.

“Hey guys, we’ve got trouble.”

Armando’s shoes pounded down the wooden steps as he swiftly walked to Dorn’s computer, his nerves rising as he sees the blonde’s frantic typing on the keyboard below. “What’s wrong?”

The cameras on the computer pointing to every angle in your house, yet, 3 armed men slowly creep up to the front door. Ready to raid, they point their rifles towards the door. “Tenemos que tomarlos ahora!” One masked man, whisper shouts in spanish, their emotions covered but their body language is prevalent. He is tense.

Dorn shifted his position to turn to Armando, his brows furrowing, “Are these your people?”

He shook his head, “No.”

Time stood still before he realised the severity of the situation, rushing over to the phone he picks it up and rapidly taps your contact. “Mierda! Pick up the phone..”

A few seconds of beeps echoed around the room, the only thing filling the air of silence. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“We have no time. Take Uncle Marcus’s wife and go hide. Now.” His words dropped with warning as he kept it short and sweet.

Your eyes widen as you hear his stoic words. Quickly whipping your head to the side, you gather your godmother and hide in the closet. A loud bang blasts through the room as footsteps clatter along the floor, moving in a tactical fashion as they scan the house for people. Armando quickly runs to the cameras, looking at the masked men quickly run through the house, weapons pointed at every angle. “Fuck..”

A moment passes and you slowly slip past the closet door, gripping your fingertips on the cold, wooden pane, you slide by the counter and quickly exhale. “Lord, please protect me.”

The woman slowly slides her hand up the counter top, reaching for a knife before calculatedly turning left while peeking around. A second passes before you see an outline of a shadow descending down onto you. Slowly looking up, you see a gun pointed towards you. “Shit.”

With a quick whisk, you slice the knife through his leg, the man drops down and shouts in pain as you slit the masked man’s throat. Taking his gun, you push forward back into the living room where the rest of the men were. Angling yourself, you shoot the man in the corner before whipping the man in front of you with the rifle.

“Damn, that bitch can fight.”

Randomly another man whisks you around, taking you in a loose headlock. The sound of a gun goes off and the man falls back in anguish, brushing yourself off you turn around and shoot him in the head.

A quick moment goes by and by the end of it, all men are dead. The carpets and floorboards stained with a crimson red as you pant for air. You quickly run back to the closet, “it’s safe now. let’s go.” You say to Marcus’s wife, embracing her in a hug before you both hurry off.

Not before, you look up at the camera and smile. Blowing your pointer and middle fingers to represent a gun, before winking.

“You’re welcome.”

The male turns to the rest of the crew and grins, followed by a slow whistle.

“Seems like we know what she does after all.”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Guárdalo, solo vete. Te han lavado el cerebro las opiniones de otros y no quiero escucharlo más. Ahórrame los detalles.” - Keep it, just leave. You've been brainwashed by the opinions of others and I don't want to hear it anymore. Spare me the details.

“no llores mi amor” - Don’t cry my love.

“Tenemos que tomarlos ahora”: We have to take them now.

“Mierda!” - Fuck!

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g0dlyunsub · 8 months ago

Text

stitch me.

you were assigned to negotiate with an unsub keeping a group of females hostage, or so you thought. turns out he has a partner and he’s determined to destroy you, all in front of spencer.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: lots of physical violence, blood, mentions of murder, knife threats, biting, general criminal minds themes.

word count :: 1.8k

author’s note :: so… this is my first post, like ever. sorry if it’s poorly written, but i’m all for slightly (?) protective reid and just wanted to write about him :3 accompanying song :: savior by novulent

you knew something was more than just off the moment you were violently thrown into the room. the hostages were huddled near the left corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you as their shoulders shook in panic.

but the hostages were all supposed to be women. brunettes. young women in their twenties. so why was there a young man among them? there was no mention of a young man reported missing in the case files or when garcia had compiled the final list of hostages, so who was he?

must’ve been a gap in the reports, you shook your head and tried to get up, but your left cheek met the cold concrete ground once again.

“don’t move, sweetheart.” his knife was positioned at the nape of your throat, and you felt your breaths become more jagged, more erratic.

“listen, i swear i’ll make it up to you i never-“ your breath gets caught in your throat when the blade presses ever so slightly into your skin.

“shut your pretty little mouth. i know who you are, an undercover cop. if you think you’re so smart coming in here without your wire and gun, you should be prepared for the consequences.” he spits the words with a nasty drawl.

you barely have any time to respond as he lifts you up by the back of your shirt and drags you to an adjacent room. he grabs a fistful of your hair and throws you to the ground forcefully.

“all the other girls in there, they’re nothing compared to you. i’ll take my time with you, sweetheart”. he approaches you while cracking his knuckles and waving his knife around menacingly.

“who’s the boy?” your voice comes out with a slight quiver, but you’re determined not to sound scared. the man lets out a bellowing laugh in response, examining his knife in one hand.

“that’s my buddy jack. you cops surely would have done your research, right?” his hand is now gloved around your throat, and you struggle to loosen his grip with your arms.

this killer had a partner sitting right between the hostages and you and your team had completely missed the signs.

but the adrenaline must have kicked in at the right timing, since you manage to knock your head back into his face and quickly swivel to deliver a kick into his shins and bring him to his knees before he has any time to react with his knife. then you strike him unconscious with a swift elbow to his temple.

you barely have any time to recover, however, when a blow hits the back of your head and your world comes spinning down. before your eyelids slowly close, you manage to steal a glance at the perpetrator — the male hostage had knocked you with a bat and was now trying to shake his unconscious partner awake.

when you open your eyes, you can’t move. your arms are tied behind your back, and your legs are tightly trapped behind the legs of the chair with knots of rope. you were in the main room now with all of the other hostages, and the former hostage was on the ground, still trying to shake his partner awake.

“look what you’ve done, you stupid brat. i swear if you’ve killed him i'm going to SLIT YOUR THR-“ the crescendo of his voice halts with the abrupt ring of the telephone hanging on the wall. he huffs and makes his way to the phone, never losing his eye contact with you. you try to wrestle against the ropes, but your efforts are useless and your energy is at an all time low.

it was your team on the other end. they must have figured out that it was a team of two and not just one.

“your stupid cop knocked samuel cold and split his skin open. send me a medic and maybe i won’t kill all of them here”. jack’s tone is agitated, threatening, and also lost. now that his commander wasn’t in charge, he didn’t know what to do with the hostages, let alone you.

you can barely decipher hotch’s words as they filter through the noise of the phone. “release the women, and i’ll send you all the medical attention you need. we’ll make sure samuel gets the stitches.” his voice is level and controlled. you’ve always trusted hotch and you’ve always trusted your team, but you couldn’t help but let a sliver of anxiousness cloud your thoughts.

and oh god, spencer. how would he cope when you were gone? how would he react at the sight of your cold body, drowned in the blood of the other hostages? tears fill your eyes and you make a poor attempt to swallow them back.

just as you think of your boyfriend, you hear his name through the phone.

“we're going to send in doctor spencer reid to have a look at samuel, alright jack? i want you to let the women go first. the sooner you do this, the sooner samuel gets his help”.

no. no, no, no. NO.

you squirm in your seat, trying to divert jack’s attention.

“wait-“ you try to shout, before jack cuts you off: “SHUT UP! this is all your fault!” he rolls his eyes before he turns around. jack’s knuckles had turned white, maintaining a deathly grip on the telephone.

“fine. but the cop stays with me.” he slams the phone before he rushes back to check on samuel.

the women are released one by one, each frantically making their way out, and you can hear cops outside ushering them and retreating.

it’s only a few minutes later when you hear the familiar sounds of the leather shoes make their way inside of the room. it’s spencer, and he has no wire, no gun, no vest. he’s carrying a medical first aid kit and making his way toward samuel, but not before taking a glance at you.

your world collapses, right there and then. he’s made the same mistake you had by entering without his gun and vest, and you had to give him a signal somehow. if luck was on your side, spencer would make it out alive. but you? your chances are slim.

“hurry up and stitch him up. don’t fuckin look at the other cop.” jack points his knife at spencer, and you let out a hitched yelp. please don’t hurt him. hurt me instead.

spencer gets down to work quickly, examining and tending to the wounds on samuel’s face, and he doesn’t look up in your direction once. jack’s watching him the entire time, tapping his left foot in impatience.

“there. he’s all good, samuel just needs some time to recov-“ spencer raises his arms and turns his back against you, and faces jack as he speaks.

“shut- sit on that chair”. jack motions at spencer to sit down on the chair across from you. you shake your head fervently, yelling constant streams of don’t to him. but he obliges.

“put your arms behind your back,” jack orders, and spencer obliges. you make a desperate attempt and kick at jack to try and distract him. but jack only slaps you in the face with his backhand before aiming the knife at spencer. your boyfriend flinches, and his friendly facade is now masked with a deathly glare.

“don’t move.” jack grabs duct tape and moves swiftly to bind spencer’s hands together behind the chair. you hang your head down. it’s over.

“listen, let spence- let him go. it’s just between you and me, your partner said you only need me”. you shakingly drew in a deep breath as you spoke.

jack chuckles before he makes a step toward you. the next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the hair and he’s delivering punches left and right, hurling screams of expletives and slurs. he’s lost it. and you were going to die.

he positions the knife at your chest, and you know he'll do it. you know he will drive that blade straight to your skin. straight to your heart.

“STOP. STOP! PLEASE!” you hear spencer rocking his chair forwards, and jack finally stops. you can’t breathe with all the blood pooling in your mouth, and you let the excess drawl out of your lips to land on the floor.

“jack, listen to me, please.” spencer looks at you with pleading eyes, silently signaling you to not move. to not agitate jack further.

“no. samuel said he was gonna kill her and i have to finish what he started for him”. jack leans forward and pulls the collar of your shirt outwards, and bites down on your neck. you let out a painful scream, tears running down your face just as more blood leaves the corner of your lips. spencer thrashes in his chair, trying to shift jack’s attention.

“but i stitched him up. samuel will live. let her go. you can take it out on me.” spencer’s voice is desperate, but there’s a tone of controlled execution, because his voice isn’t quivering like before.

at that instant, doors fling open and less than a millisecond later, jack drops to the ground, his knife toppling down to the floor soon after. the team of cops, along with hotch and rossi, make their way toward you and spencer, untying the knots.

between the yells of “we need a medic” and comforting words of “you’re going to be okay” being uttered left and right, you hear spencer’s voice. it’s seemingly amplified for some reason, and you can’t help but smile. your boyfriend rushes towards you, sweeping your hair and cradling you back and forth in his arms.

“you’re so brave, you’re so brave y/n.” his voice comes out stifled and hoarse, and you feel him grip your hand even tighter.

“i’m so sorry i let you go in there alone. i’m so sorry i let him do that to you, torture you and almost-“ his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he lightly kisses you right above the dried cut where jack had attacked you.

you turn your head ever so slightly to get a better look at spencer. tears coat his eyelashes and his mouth shakes as he talks. a soft groan rolls out from the back of your throat, and you snuggle deeper into spencer’s hold.

“keep… talking. i want… to hear… you.” you manage to let out, and spencer’s eyes widen.

“of course. i can do that. i’ll keep talking to you, y/n. focus on my voice, can you do that?” he asks with a slight squeeze to your palm. you give a slow nod in return.

that’s all he needs, because when the medics transfer you into the ambulance, he’s sitting right beside you, not letting go of your hand, and whispering nothing but bittersweet apologies.

his voice is the only stitch you need.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #bau!reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg x reader #dr spencer reid

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thoughtfulfiction · 21 days ago

Text

Shift in the Routine

Author’s Note: Vibes are up from episode one of Hard Knocks starring Batman but I really wanted to write something angsty.

Part II

The morning started off with an entire 16 oz cup full of coffee spilling all over the kitchen floor. The brown puddle continued to spread and you watched in horror as the caramel frappuccino you’d just spent the last 20 minutes carefully curating to perfection went to waste. Then, your apartment key got stuck in the door, snapping in half so you had to make a call to your lovely landlord who charged you $150 to replace the key, and get the maintenance guy to come in and get your old key out. There went the money that you wanted to use to splurge on lunch.

Just when you thought you’d turned a corner for the better when you got off work early, your best friend Rachel called in a panic, putting an immediate end to the relaxing afternoon you had planned.

“Hi babe! I need you to do me a huge favor.”

You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to the Netflix binge on the couch with a fluffy blanket you were desperately looking forward to. “What’s up?“

She chuckles softly, breathing out a sound of relief that you were willing to help. “You know you’re my favorite person in the world, right?”

“What do you need Rach?” You bite out, your patience mostly nonexistent after such an awful day. Even her best attempt at buttering you up wouldn’t fix it.

“Okay, okay jeez. Who pissed in your cereal this morning? Anyways, I need you to run to my office and grab my other laptop. The one I have with me died and the tablet just isn’t cutting it right now,” you can hear her whispering to someone while you wait on the other end of the line for further instructions, “texting you the address as we speak.”

Your destination was 48 minutes away from her office, much closer to your job. Rachel owed you. Big time. “Fine. Be there in an hour.” You hung up a little in the midst of hearing her say “thank you” for the sixth time.

Rachel was an interior designer, working on some top secret project with a client for the last year, whose identity she refused to reveal, that was until today when she clearly had no choice. She’d apparently asked the client if it was ok for you to come to the house and they were clearly cool with it because the gate opened and the mansion you were faced with was unlike anything you’d ever seen. Every part of you wished you’d worn nicer clothes to work today.

Before you could even knock, your friend opened the door and ushered you in, plugging the laptop into one of the kitchen outlets and pulling up whatever she needed, thanking you again for saving her ass.

You looked around the room, exquisite marble covered the countertops, super cozy looking white swivel chairs and every square inch of the place just screamed luxury. “Who the hell lives here alone? Head of the mafia?”

Rachel snorts out a laugh, typing away without looking up at you.

“Not exactly,” a male voice is heard behind you, scaring you a little. And that makes Rachel laugh even more. “I assume you’re Rachel’s friend y/n.”

No fucking way.

You glance at Rachel before turning around to face him, nodding your head. “I’m so sorry your highness, you’re more…King of the Jungle, right? The mafia is more of a Bills thing.” All the secrecy made sense now and you turn towards her, your eyes full of disbelief.

“You signed an NDA didn’t you? Because I know you’re the world’s worst secret keeper and you’ve worked for the Bengals starting quarterback for a year and I haven’t heard a peep. Wait,” you look at him again, “does this mean I have to sign one?”

“Would you like to?” Joe deadpans, a hint of amusement pokes out behind his rigid exterior. He looks even better in person, you think to yourself.

“I have always wanted to sign one but I’ve never really been in the position to do that. But now…”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Rachel cuts in, “he’s not gonna make you sign anything, you don’t even know the gate code.”

Waving her off for ruining your fun, you grab your keys and get ready to head home when Joe’s voice stops you in your tracks for the second time in the last 20 minutes.

“You don’t want water or anything before you go? I have an entire fridge just for Voss water. The glass bottles.” His voice is so relaxed, a calming energy surrounds him and he delivers his words with such a casual tone like it’s not one of the most absurd things you’ve ever heard.

“Are you being serious?”

“No! I’m kidding,” he laughs, a genuine hearty sound that you hope to never forget. You need to leave this fortress as soon as humanly possible before you find yourself attracted to the way the man breathes.

Rachel has long forgotten the two of you are in the room, completely in the zone while deciding between white oak and alder so the gorgeous man walks you out. Has he always been this tall? “Rich and funny. It’s very nice to meet you Joe.”

He’s about to let you leave, but he doesn’t want to regret not going for it. “Would you—maybe want to um, see each other again? When you’re having less of a bad day? I promise there will be no coffee involved, just a little dinner?” This is a stark difference from his earlier nonchalance, you can tell he’s trying to keep the nerves at bay.

“You heard all of that?” You look at him wide-eyed. Of course Joe freaking Burrow heard you complaining about spilling coffee everywhere and damaging your keys, not your finest moments. And somehow, none of that deterred him from asking you out. “I’d love to. Rachel can give you my number and I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, definitely.”

Dinner turned into dinner and a movie which turned into several nights of ordering in. That became FaceTime dates when he would travel across the country, helping him pick out clothes to wear for his foundation’s golf tournament or getting up at ungodly hours to answer his calls during Paris Fashion Week. Then he came home to lock in for the season but not before giving you a jump scare by randomly buzzing and bleaching his hair. Everything you thought you knew about him from the media or via word of mouth living the city, was nothing compared to actually getting to be with him. He was funny and kind and the most caring person in the world and you really owed Rachel your entire life for asking you to drop off that laptop.

Admittedly, you were nervous going into the season. You’d seen him go down last year in Baltimore, watching on tv like every other fan feeling helpless as his season ended. Now you’d seen first hand how much work had gone into not only getting him back to what he was before but transforming him into a better version of what he once was. And routine was everything. Workouts and meals were scheduled down to meticulous detail, meetings with his nutritionist and strength trainer happened frequently and the closer you got to week 1 the more dialed into the process he was. You just tried your best to navigate the controlled chaos.

Friday evening before you drove home after work, you made a pit-stop at Joe’s to drop something off. Having already decided that you were staying at your place for the rest of the weekend as to not be distraction, you placed your surprise in the fridge feeling proud of yourself before closing the door, meeting your boyfriend face to face.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!” You playfully smacked his chest as he grabs onto your hands, enveloping you in a warm embrace. “I didn’t think I’d see you. Thought you’d be up to your eyebrows in New England film right now.”

“Took a break to grab a snack,” he sidesteps you to get to the fridge, taking a look inside before he spots the item you just placed in there. “What are these?”

You nod toward the tupperware in his hand, “open it.”

Joe carefully takes off the lid, looking at the contents inside like a kid on christmas morning, recognizing the look of his favorite dessert, with a twist.

“They’re protein pumpkin pie cups. The bottom is peanut butter.”

“Two of my favorite things. Well, three now, including you. Thank you.” You want to pretend to have a toothache at how sweet he’s being but instead you stand on your toes, inching your way up to kiss him on the lips and when you pull away to stand at your normal height he sneaks another kiss, pressing one onto the side of your head. It’s getting late and you really don’t want to leave, but you can’t mess up his routine. The next time you see him is after the loss, he’s understandably disappointed but also a little relieved to shake some of the rust off and come back more relaxed the next game.

Slowly but surely the losses piled up and they added more weight to his often slumped shoulders. You tried to lighten the load by being a constant presence, reminding him of how well he was playing, but the once comfortable, homey atmosphere that Joe created for you became tense. Long conversations about how the team could be better turned into shrugs, “I don’t knows” and exhausted sighs.

And now? The team was 4-8.

You’d been staying at Joe’s since the bye week ended just to make sure he wasn’t isolating himself and completely consumed by football. When he came home after the Steelers game you could instantly tell it was going to be a long night. As soon as he set foot in the door he dropped his bag off and headed up to his office without giving you so much as a glance.

Dinner was cold by the time he emerged again two hours later. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing. And you also didn’t want to just sit there and say nothing. The elephant in the room was doubling in size by the minute. “Joe, you—”

“If you’re about to say I played well you can just…not. I fumbled the ball twice and threw a pick. Three turnovers isn’t exactly a recipe for success.”

You closed your eyes, trying to come up with something that would get him to see things the way you did. “I know that, but you still fought your way back and you guys were so close to completing the comeback.”

His adam’s apple bobs uncomfortably slow as he swallows some of his frustration. None of this was your fault and he knew that. He just, really didn’t want to talk about it anymore today. He’d discussed it with the team, with coaches, the media. The game had ended long ago and he was still having to explain himself. Glancing at the clock, he let you know he was heading to bed and he was just…gone. No hug, no kiss on the cheek or anything. Which usually wouldn’t have bothered you but then you found him fast asleep with his back facing you. You climbed in behind him, treating him like the little spoon as you wrapped your arms around him but he easily removed himself from your grasp, covering himself with the blanket, mumbling something about not feeling like cuddling tonight. You had this overwhelming urge to cry so you turned away from him, squeezing your eyes shut, begging sleep to overtake you.

Waking up the next morning, you decide to shake off whatever that was last night. You texted Joe’s chef and asked him what was on the menu for tonight, thinking that a good meal and some lighthearted conversation was just the thing he needed. The work day was long and frustrating, some random sponsors came in to do some long winded presentation about the new health guidelines which was about as entertaining as watch Geno Stone miss tackles. One thing was motivating you to get through it and that was Morgan, Joe’s chef texting you that he would have everything ready when you got home and all you had to do was put your finishing touches on the evening.

All of the food was prepped, the table was set, candles lit and all you needed was Joe. You wait 45 minutes for him to walk in the door, looking surprised. “What is all this?”

“Nothing special, I just figured we could eat together before watching Monday Night Football in bed.”

The look on his face isn’t promising. “I already ate at the facility,” Joe says regretfully. He’s met with silence and it’s uncomfortable, worrying. “How was work?”

“I texted you,” your voice hardens, “twice. No response.”

“Wasn’t near my phone all day. We had a team meeting, guys said things that were on their minds and we had an open and honest conversation. I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

You close your eyes, really trying not to cry about something so small. “Right, ok. How did your meeting go?”

“It was fine,” he shrugs, not divulging any other details and it irks you even more. Joe catches you massaging your temples, a clear sign that you’re stressed. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you echo his words, hoping he gets the hint, “had a long day.”

The quarterback places his hands on your shoulders, hoping to ease the tension in your posture. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“That’s rich,” you mumble.

“Hm?”

You grab his hands and pry them off of you. “I said that’s rich. You know, coming from you.”

He looks irritated but keeps his voice even, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you want me to open up and talk about my feelings when you’ve been an emotional brick wall the last couple weeks! I can barely get two words out of you. Joe, I’m trying babe. I respect your time and your space, I never stay the night on Saturdays or ask you do anything past 8pm and you still shut me out. Why is that?”

“You don’t think that doing all of this is a little much right now? Everyone wants something from me all the time. I just need a second to think, on my own. And I get it, you’re trying to help but you’re always here, pestering me about little things. I really don’t need you breathing down my neck and smothering me this week.”

You stare at him for a while, processing every word he just said.

You’re pestering him.

You’re smothering him.

Breathing down his neck.

That’s why he didn’t want you to hold him last night. He thinks you’re too needy, too clingy.

You’d done the one thing you’d been telling yourself you wouldn’t do. You had disturbed his peace, messed up his flow. In trying to be helpful and proactive, you had actually gotten more in the way. And he didn’t want you here right now. He’d just made that painfully clear.

“No you’re right,” you tell him, in your most normal tone, “I’ll stop with the questions. You probably have stuff to do so I’m gonna clean this stuff up.”

Joe nods simply, heading upstairs to crack open the Dallas film. A few stray tears escape your eyes as soon as he’s gone. You gave yourself 10 minutes to have a little cry and then the leftovers were placed in the fridge, dishes put away, candles blown out and everything back in its rightful place. Then you headed upstairs to Joe’s room to pack your stuff. He clearly needed space from you and you weren’t going to stay anywhere you weren’t wanted. Carefully placing all of your bags in the car, you took a shuddering breath before putting the keys in the ignition.

He woke up out of his sleep around 4am looking for you, feeling the cold space where your body was supposed to be. Chalking it up to you maybe having slept in one of the guest rooms after the tense conversation from earlier, he turned over and went back to sleep. You knew you had a problem, tossing and turning aimlessly, growing accustomed to being next to him, literally proving his point. The honeymoon phase was over and you desperately needed to pull it together.

“You don’t need to freak out, every couple goes through a rough patch,” Rachel tries to reassure you, digging into her bowl of popcorn as you lay face first, mumbling into your pillow. “Babe I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

It feels like there’s a ton of bricks weighing you down after one disagreement. “Rach you didn’t hear what he said. And the way he looked at me. He hasn’t even called or texted or anything. And I’m not texting him, that would be smothering or pestering or everything else he said. God I just, I don’t know.”

She hated to see you struggling like this. “Just give yourself some time and you’ll eventually know the right thing to do. You two are annoyingly into each other and those genuine feelings don’t go away because of a stress filled heated moment.”

She was right, all you needed to do was give him space. You dove face first into your job, attending every meeting five minutes early and staying later to get ahead on the next day’s to-do list. Joe did eventually text late in the afternoon, asking if you were coming over for dinner but you told him you had a work thing.

By day three of you having “work stuff,” Joe was calling bullshit. All of your responses were either dry, a simple “yes” or “no” or you kept it short and sweet. And he didn’t like it. Even though he prided himself in being able to compartmentalize, at home it felt empty and void of color and joy without you. He’d pushed you away and embarrassingly said some things that he didn’t even really mean, he just lashed out of exasperation and now he hadn’t heard the sound of your voice in almost 80 hours.

He needed to fix this.

“Can open the door? We need to talk.” He sounded out, in between semi frantic knocks on your door.

Slowly cracking it open, you let him in. “What do we need to talk about?”

His hair is messy and still slightly wet, like he ran here immediately after a shower. Seemed like this couldn’t possibly wait another second. “I’m sorry. I said things I shouldn’t have. I was upset because you’re right. The other night,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “you called me out and I didn’t want to admit you had a point so I dug myself a hole. And I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

You wanted to melt into his arms and forgive him. You wished it was that easy. But his words just kept playing over and over in your mind. “I appreciate the apology.”

“So…you’ll come home with me?”

“Joe I am home. And you have—a strict sleeping schedule. It’s getting late, I’m sure you’re tired.”

He wonders quietly how long you’ve been like this, giving robotic, monotone responses like you’re just saying things that you think he wants to hear. “It is getting late, but I’ve gotten so used to you being next to me that I don’t sleep as well when you’re gone.”

“Really? Cause I thought I was smothering you. Or what was the other one? Oh right, breathing down your neck.”

“Babe, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well you still said it! And now I’m wondering if I’m too much for you or how you had to drive over here instead of going home and getting your rest trying my best to be what you need,” you pause, looking at him through watery eyes, “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

He seems visibly shaken, hesitantly steps toward you, reaching out to hold your hand to make your not going to disappear into thin air and leave him on his own. “Wh—what you mean?”

“I just, I really think I’m the one that needs some space. To figure out where the hell I even fit into all this. If I still want to fit into all this. I’m not saying I want to breakup I just think—you’re in a really pivotal time in the season and I don’t want to get in the way.”

Joe gives your hand a squeeze, “you’re never in the way. Actually it’s the opposite, I just wasn’t appreciative enough of everything you’ve done for me this year. But if you want space then, take all the time you need.” He swallows the lump in his throat and presses his lips to your forehead, uttering out that he’ll be waiting until you’re ready.

You take a step away from him as his soft lips linger on your skin whispering, “Joe…can you please go?”

He nods, slowly closing the door behind him. You imagine him walking away, climbing into his Porsche and heading home alone. Maybe this is how it should be, him over there, you here.

Tonight almost hurts more than the last time, so much so that the tears won’t even come. You’re just…numb. But you need this space to see if this life is something you’re ready to commit to. Because the last thing you want to be is another thing on his schedule.

#Joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic

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