#twenty-four seconds from now
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Read what the librarian is reading!
Here's Kate's current TBR pile:
Honey Lemon Soda (volume 3) by Mayu Murata
Taran Wanderer (book 4 of the Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander
Sweet Valley Twins Volume 4: The Haunted House by Nicole Andelfinger
Uprooted: A Memoir about what Happens When Your Family Moves Back by Ruth Chan
Noodle & Bao by Shaina Lu
Twenty-four Seconds from Now by Jason Reynolds
Ditching Saskia by John Moore
Thief of the Heights by Son M.
This Land is our Land: A Blue Beetle Story by Julio Anta
Girlmode by Magdalene Visaggio
The Strange Case of Harleen and Harley by Melissa Marr
Wingborn by Marjorie Liu
Full Shift by Jennifer Dugan
The Terrifying Tales of Vivian Vance by Josh Ulrich
See more of Kate's recs
#jennifer dugan#marjorie liu#magdalene visaggio#girlmode#blue beetle#this land is our land#john moore#jason reynolds#honey lemon soda#book list#TBR pile#to be read#booklr#tbr list#tbr#mayu murata#katerecs#LCPL recs#taran wanderer#the chronicles of prydain#lloyd alexander#sweet valley twins#nicole andelfinger#uprooted: a memoir about what happens when your family moves back#ruth chan#noodle and bao#shaina lu#twenty-four seconds from now#ditching saskia#thief of the heights
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We have several books on our radar for today. Check them out!
The Art Thieves by Andrea L. Rogers Levine Querido
Angel Wilson ([email protected]) Stevie Henry ([email protected]) Thanks for coming to see me; but by the time you read this, it will be too late. No one will have started to panic, yet; but in less than two months nothing will be the same. What came first, The Chicken or the Egg Flu? I wish it mattered. But let’s just say, maybe go back to wearing a mask, bathing in sanitizer, and avoid birds and eggs for a bit… I did not kill my brother. I did quite the opposite, really. It’s the year 2052. Stevie Henry is a Cherokee girl working at a museum in Texas, trying to save up enough money to go to college. The world around her is in a cycle of drought and superstorms, ice and fire … but people get by. But it’s about to get a whole lot worse. When a mysterious boy shows up at Stevie’s museum saying that he’s from the future -- and telling her what is to come -- she refuses to believe him. But soon she will have no choice. From the author of the Walter Award-winning Man Made Monsters comes a YA novel that conjures our futures in startling life – the ones that we are headed towards, and the ones we can still work towards.
The Dividing Sky by Jill Tew Joy Revolution
In 2460, eighteen-year-old Liv Newman dreams of a future beyond her lower-class life in the Metro. As a Proxy, she uses the neurochip in her brain to sell memories to wealthy clients. Maybe a few illegally, but money equals freedom. So when a customer offers her a ludicrous sum to go on an assignment in no-man’s-land, Liv accepts. Now she just has to survive. Rookie Forceman Adrian Rao believes in order over all. After discovering that a renegade Proxy’s shady dealings are messing with citizens’ brain chemistry, he vows to extinguish the threat. But when he tracks Liv down, there’s one problem: her memories are gone. Can Adrian bring himself to condemn her for crimes she doesn’t remember? As Liv and Adrian navigate the world beyond the Metro and their growing feelings for one another, they grapple with who they are, who they could be, and whether another way of living is possible.
Fledgling: The Keeper's Records of Revolution by S.K. Ali Kokila
The first book in a gripping duology from acclaimed author S.K. Ali introduces a fractured world on the brink of either enlightenment or war. Would you trade love for peace? Raisa of Upper Earth has only lived a life of privilege and acquiescence. Ever dutiful, she accepts her father’s arrangement of her marriage to Lein, Crown Prince of the corrupt, volatile lands of Lower Earth. Though Lein is a stranger, Raisa knows the wedding will unite their vastly different worlds in a pact of peace: an infusion of Upper Earth technology into Lower Earth will usher in the final age of enlightenment, ending war between humans forever. Or is justice more urgent? Newly released from imprisonment, Nada of Lower Earth has found her own calling: disrupting the royal wedding. Convinced her cousin Lein’s alliance with Upper Earth will launch an invasive, terrifying form of tyranny, Nada sets out undercover to light the spark of revolution. When Raisa goes missing a week before the wedding, all eyes turn to the rebels, including Nayf, Nada’s twin brother—a fugitive on the run. And when Nayf and Raisa meet, the long-simmering animosity they feel toward each other's worlds slowly burns away into something unexpected. But the Crown Prince wants his bride—and future—back. And he will go to the ends of the Earths to reclaim them.
If You're Not the One by Farah Rishi Quill Tree Books
This funny, electric rom-com follows a teen struggling to reclaim her perfect life and the perfectly wrong guy who sees through her facade, from the acclaimed author of It All Comes Back to You. Anisa Shirani is…well, perfect. A fact, not an opinion. Of course, it’s all a front to feed her own praise-obsessed ego. Behind closed doors, she is—some might say—a little slobbish and snobbish, and she works obsessively to maintain her God-given talents. Fate has favored her, but Ani knows better than anyone that fate is made by effort. But she must, especially when all signs point to her being a top-notch lawyer with a top-notch education and being destined to marry Isaac, total heartthrob and eldest son of the richest family in the community. A perfect girl deserves a perfect life, and Ani’s perfect life is going exactly the way it should… Until Ani’s parents announce they’re getting divorced. Until Isaac shows all the signs of…cheating. Sort of. Until she starts catching feelings for Marlow, an overly friendly weirdo she’s hated since the moment she laid eyes on him in class. How can fate be so wrong?
Of Blood and Lightning by Micki Janae Three Room Press
In the idyllic town of New River, North Dakota, 16-year-old Ophelia Johnson and six other teens inherit the powers of the old gods—Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Artemis, Apollo, and Ares—and embark on a mission from the Vessel of Destiny to find the missing Fates, restore the Codex, and save the ancient world. Still grieving the recent and mysterious death of her father, Ophelia begins to unravel the secrets woven into her family’s history as she and her friends plunge into the quest of a lifetime. Armed only with powers they don’t totally understand, Ophelia, Roman, Cassius, Olivia, Alessia, and Baxter are soon immersed in a mythical chess match upon which rests the fate of the universe. As they journey into a world of blood pacts and war, the diverse group members find more than they bargained for, and Ophelia discovers a family tie that might mean the ensuing chaos and destruction is her fault. Of Blood and Lightning is an upper YA contemporary fantasy (age 16-25) with a gripping and fresh twist on Greek mythology as the ancient pantheon of gods inhabit an ensemble of BIPOC and queer teenaged characters.
Only for the Holidays by Abiola Bello Soho Teen
City girl Tia Solanké is dreading the festive season. She and her boyfriend are on a break and the last thing she wants is to spend Christmas away from London. Dragged to Saiyan Hedge Farm by her mother, Tia takes an instant disliking to the countryside estate. She falls in horse manure, is chased by sheep and the Wi-Fi sucks. How can she stalk her ex and concoct a foolproof plan to win him back from here? Country boy Quincy Parker and his family run the farm, and this year they’ve been selected to host the biggest event in the town’s calendar—the Winter Ball. Preparations are underway, and Quincy is working around the clock to make it a success. The only problem is, he’s told everyone he has a date to the ball, when in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth. At first, Tia and Quincy don’t see eye to eye, until they realize they both have something to gain by pretending to be a couple. But when a snowstorm threatens to cancel the Winter Ball, their fake relationship is put to the test. Will Tia and Quincy be able to keep up appearances and save the day, or will real feelings get in the way?
Solis by Paola Mendoza & Abby Sher Nancy Paulsen Books
The year is 2033, and in this near-future America where undocumented people are forced into labor camps, life is bleak. Especially so for seventeen-year-old Rania, a Lebanese teenager from Chicago. When she and her mother were rounded up by the Deportation Force, they were given the brutal job of digging in the labor camp’s mine searching for the destructive and toxic, but potentially world-changing chemical, aqualinium. With this chemical the corrupt and xenophobic government of the New American Republic could actually control the weather—ending devastating droughts sweeping the planet due to climate change. If the government succeeds, other countries would be at their mercy. Solidifying this power comes at the expense of the undocumented immigrants forced to endure horrendous conditions to mine the chemical or used in cruel experiments to test it, leaving their bodies wracked in extreme pain to the point of death. As the experiments ramp up, things only get worse. Rania and her fellow prisoners decide to start a revolution; if they don’t, they know they will die. Told by four narrators—Rania, Jess (a former teenage Deportation Force officer), Vali, and Vali’s mother Liliana—Solis is about the courage and sacrifice it takes to stand and fight for freedom.
Twenty-Four Seconds From Now... by Jason Reynolds Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy Books
Twenty-four months ago: Neon gets chased by a dog all around the parking lot of a church. Not his finest moment. And definitely one he would have loved to forget if it weren’t for the dog’s owner: Aria. Dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, hair in a ponytail. Aria. Way more than fine. Twenty-four weeks ago: Neon’s dad insists on talking to him about tenderness and intimacy. Neon and Aria are definitely in love, and while they haven’t taken that next big step…yet, they’ve starting talking about…that. Twenty-four days ago: Neon’s mom finds her—gulp—bra in his room. Hey! No judging! Those hook thingies are complicated! So he’d figured he’d better practice, what with the big day only a month away. Twenty-four minutes ago: Neon leaves his shift at work at his dad’s bingo hall, making sure to bring some chicken tenders for Aria. They’re not candlelight and they definitely aren’t caviar, but they are her favorite. And right this second? Neon is locked in Aria’s bathroom, completely freaking out because twenty-four seconds from now he and Aria are about to…about to… Well, they won’t do anything if he can’t get out of his own head (all the advice, insecurities, and what ifs) and out of this bathroom!
Under All the Lights (When It All Syncs Up, #2) by Maya Ameyaw Annick Press
After one of his songs goes viral, Ollie Cheriet gets the opportunity of a lifetime: a cross-country tour, an album deal, and a chance to help his family with their financial struggles. The only problem? Ollie has major stage fright, a symptom of his anxiety disorder. As pressure from performing, social media rumors, and his romantic life rises, his mental health starts to spiral. So he’s surprised at how grounded he feels when he collaborates with his wildly talented—and distractingly cute—touring partner, Jesse. Music has always helped Ollie through hard times, but he’s going to have to be more vulnerable than he ever thought possible to find self-acceptance in the glow of the spotlight. Featuring characters from Maya Ameyaw’s acclaimed debut When It All Syncs Up, this story takes readers into the green room, immersing them in the vivid behind-the-scenes world of touring musicians.
#the art thieves#the dividing sky#fledgling#if you're not the one#of blood and lightning#only for the holidays#solis#twenty-four seconds from now#under all the lights#new releases#weneeddiversebooks
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Twenty-Four Seconds from Now...: A Love Story
By Jason Reynolds.
#Twenty-Four Seconds from Now...#Twenty-Four Seconds from Now#Jason Reynolds#books#book covers#animals#dogs
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Book Review: Twenty-four Seconds from Now
I am a huge Jason Reynolds fan, and this book does not disappoint. Aria is one lucky young woman to have found someone as caring as Neon. I love the way Reynolds takes you back a “twenty-four” at a time—minutes, hours, days, weeks, months—as you watch their relationship develop in reverse. I loved finding out that Neon and I aren’t the only ones who do the cry thing (cry when we see someone else…
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playing with circles O●°○•°o.
#trypophobia#i want to draw again so bad#i feel like my brain is too full of gunk and the only way to clean it is by drawing and i just don't have the time#i did this at work when it was slow#i'm in the process of moving right now. it'll be my first time living alone#i'm finally getting my adhd medicated after getting diagnosed in january#my life is so different year to year it honestly is dizzying#at this time last year my current roommate and i were looking for an apartment#at this time two years ago i had been at my second job ever for three months and i didn't have a car#and my mom had to drive with me to and from work because the van had been totaled and we only had the one car for the four of us#at this time three years ago i had just graduated and was a month into my first ever job. didn't even know how to drive#i thought i was so behind in life and that i was gonna be stuck like that eternally#now... god i don't even know. i'm trying to be positive#this is gonna be my solo chapter. my zuko alone episode. my walden pond.#but really i'm just so scared all the time and i have no choice but to keep treading water forever#i feel like all through childhood everything stays the same. nothing prepared me for living through constant change#entering my mid twenties i'm learning that. yeah you can't predict everything you can't prepare for everything#you can't keep anything and you can't change anything#but you can hold it in your hands. you can choose to live it. you can choose to be there#i hope once i get settled at my new place i'll suddenly find time to do everything#i hope the meds help me with that. i just want to draw again. i just want to feel alive again
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i just think ghosting someone should be illegal
#esp if the person has bpd . no this isnt about me (it is)#it's just bad boss#ive slowly gotten better at trying not to think about the person but alas . they're appearing in my nightmares .#not much i can do about that besides feeling awful n just trying not to sleep after#idk ! idk i tried . i tried to not be like a previous friend i had who was rlly gross n manipulative to me#whilst Also being much older (i was seventeen n they were twenty four or twenty six i dont remember)#idk. ethan says i wasnt bad but its still gripping onto my brain yknow#also it just sucks being ghosted sucks this is the second time it's happened from someone i trusted#[united states of whatever voice] whatever#(it's more like . Wuhtevr .)#nothing i can do but cope with random f/n/af videos#im watching a person i like try to be sister l/o/cation blindfolded :] they're doing well even with how hard it is#i cant even beat night four Seeing things (well barely seeing things bc its so dark i genuinely cant see)#so it's rlly neat . also i know how to skip the night now bc of a joke he made >:D#also to anyone reading this i am not trying to come across as like Woe Is Me Feel Bad For Me bc like ew#NDNDNDN my tone is very just flat n matter of fact rather than trying to garner sympathy#but also i dont necessarily think it's bad to want sympathy however i dislike it when people go about it in such a way#where it's like . being down on themselves to such an amount that you Know they're playing it up . does that make sense#idk . im saying nothing <3 n im very tired n doing bad so im not making much sense my apologies#does a ditty before kickflipping my way back to f/n/af video world#blabs
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“Come on.”
“Uh?”
Diane looks up as Naomi stands and holds out her hand as if this isn't a ridiculously careless thing she's asking her to do, as if neither of them has the good sense to mention that neither one of them has any idea what they're getting themselves into. As if neither of them might be walking straight into a trap of their own making, or nothing much will change at all and they'll forget about each other in a month, or a few days. As if it's a risk worth taking to find out which.
As if there's anything else to do today.
“I'm not going to the hospital.”
“I know.” Naomi reaches a little closer. “I have a first aid kit at home.”
Enough to get them through, that's all. Enough for now.
“You know how to wrap it?” Diane asks as she takes Naomi's hand to pull herself up, as though the answer might change her mind somehow. Naomi smiles a little, as though she knows it just as well that it won't.
“Yeah.” She sets Diane's hand down on her shoulder. “It's not far, come on. I'll carry you down the stairs.”
“You'll drop me.”
“I will not.” Naomi urges her forward, along the concrete path out of the park. “I mean I'm just offering, I don't have to.”
It's a nice gesture, though, isn't it? It was a nice thought.
They walk slowly down the street, stepping more or less in sync past the general store with the baking supplies just past the doorway, turning at the corner to walk toward the coin laundry that's open even at three in the morning and also on holidays. A hand-drawn poster in the window of the discount shoe store across the street loudly advertises VACUUMS REFURBISHED while a Times New Roman printout on the telephone cubicle in the middle of the block offers “suitable compensation” in exchange for willing test subjects, No Questions Please; a few steps farther along stands an apartment building that somehow looks like it's missing a couple of stories, and Diane shifts her weight to her good leg as Naomi steps away to fumble with the lock on the front door.
“It's the door on the left,” Naomi says, the door sticking only slightly as she shoves it open. “When you get to the basement.”
She opens the first door on the right, a stairwell that only leads down.
“Upstairs is that door over there, but I don't know any of the neighbors, so. I'm not gonna introduce you to anyone.”
That's fine. Diane doesn't want to know any of them, either.
Naomi walks down the stairs first and doesn't try to carry her.
“Bathroom's at the end of the hall,” she says. “The taps aren't broken, the water's just cold when it's cold outside and warm when it isn't, but if you let it run for a little while, it'll...fix itself. And make sure you don't touch the water heater, it's metal and it gets really hot sometimes.”
Diane clutches the wooden banister nailed to the wall as she limps her way down and wonders how much of all this she's supposed to remember. All of it, probably. It isn't very complicated.
Naomi unlocks the door on the left and holds it open.
“You can sit on the bed.”
It's good of her to offer. It isn't much of a bed, really, more of a mattress pushed into the corner, but that isn't exactly a surprise, and it's good of her to offer all the same.
“Thanks,” Diane says, a little too late to seem quite natural. Naomi hums a disinterested acknowledgment and doesn't seem to mind.
“Take off your shoes.”
Diane promptly unties her sneakers, placing them on the floor beside the bed as Naomi kneels in front of her with a roll of ACE bandage in her hand and her eyes focused on Diane's ankle like she's the only attending physician in the entire complex who doesn't have better things to do with her time than tend to something as trivial as all this. Diane should count herself lucky the timing worked out the way that it did.
Lucky, was it? It's about time.
The single bulb in the overhead light flickers a little as if a public execution has just disrupted the power grid, or someone's turned on too many air conditioners at once and blown a fuse a few floors up.
“Don't worry about it,” Naomi says. Diane doesn't bother to assure her that she wasn't.
#anna tries to be original#i started reading something that objectively has nothing wrong with it but within about three pages had me bored out of my mind#and i started skimming it to see if it picked up or anything caught my interest later on#but i noticed that a few of the paragraphs were like thirty lines long#and i immediately noped the hell out of there#and then i was like 'you know what i should do is i should work on that story that i spend about twenty minutes on every four or five days'#i took a phys ed class in college that was literally all education#we didn't actually do any sports or anything#it was all classes and lectures and stuff#one day we went to the nurse's office or whatever you call that area on a college campus#and we learned how to wrap sprained ankles#i know i picked it up very quickly but i have absolutely no recollection of how to do it now#also yesterday i had to spend the day dealing with some incredibly idiotic coworkers#i don't even think they're necessarily stupid people but they were certainly acting like it#and first thing this morning one of the messaged me with a stupid question to follow up on all her stupid questions from yesterday#'where is this data in the file?' oh gosh i don't know have you tried spending two seconds actually LOOKING FOR IT#and someone else messaged me at the same time to ask for help with something that he's now doing completely wrong#but it's a new system and i know he's trying and i also know he is actually good at his job so i don't mind helping him#but i'm going to have to waste my afternoon in a meeting with the other idiot#and two people who DO have their shit together but i know for sure that if he has to do anything it'll add like half an hour's time#to a task that should take five minutes tops#also there's a severe weather warning for excessive heat today#i want to go out and buy some fruit before it gets too unbearable#but in order for that to happen i need these people to leave me alone for twenty minutes
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Review: "Twenty Four Seconds from Now...: A Love Story" by Jason Reynolds
Initial reaction: I haven’t decided on a final rating for this yet, but it’s likely to be either a strong 4 star read or 4.5 stars. I enjoyed getting to know Neon and his relationship with Aria. This is told in an interesting, reverse order way that allows you to have glimpses of the relationship between the main two, their families and friends, and ultimately Neon and Aria coming together before…
#arc or galley#books read in 2024#coming of age#contemporary#favorites#humor#Jason Reynolds#NetGalley#quick read#read in 2024#realistic fiction#romance#Twenty Four Seconds from Now: A Love Story#Young Adult
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❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ! ❞
❝ THE FOUR TIMES YOUR NEIGHBOR TRIES TO HOOK UP WITH YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE SUCCEEDS !! ❞
✧ pairing: uncle! sukuna x neighbor! reader
✧ summary: you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, uncle sukuna, degradation (slut, whore, brat), freshly out from jail sukuna, implied age gap (sukuna probably like late 30s / early 40s, reader is like mid twenties), wet dreams (f!), masturbation (f! +m!), dom!sukuna, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (f + m), spanking (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay (f! receiving), implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart found on pinterest (let me know if you know the og artist)
✧ w/c: 8,939
You were a pretty little thing.
That’s what he thought when he first saw you. And when he saw you smile, his second thought was — how could he have you?
You were the girl next door. Literally. Grew up next to the Itadori family, you watched the brat on weekends, helped around the house after the mom had left, and even slept over some nights in the guest room.
The very room you were in now, pinned underneath him, legs spread as your cunt gushed as if you had been the one doing time instead of him.
“Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly?” He clicks his tongue, the glint of his piercing in the low light of the moonlight that illuminated the barest hint of the room. It was by that light that you could not only see the way his lips curled into a smirk as his hand came down on your needy pussy, but the noticeable bulge in his pants, “g’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”
“Are the cookies almost done?” Yuji asked, rubbing the back of his head, squinting at the cookies through the oven window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “sure you’re not burning them?”
“I know how to bake cookies, Yu,” you roll your eyes, as you clean the counters off of the flour and bits of dough and sugar that smeared the surface, “why are you so impatient anyway?”
“He wants to leave before the wrecking ball blows through, and you should do that same,” Choso adds, emerging from his room with a yawn, and you tilt your head, his gaze slides to Yuji, “she doesn’t know?”
Yuji shakes his head, “I thought Dad was—”
Choso glances at you, gesturing to his face to tell you that you had something on your own, before his eyes slide back to his younger brother, “You know Jin can barely remember to tell us, much less—”
You cross your arms, wiping the flour and sugar from your cheek, but you only manage to make it worse, “Can you guys just tell me instead of having an argument about who should have told me?”
Yuji sighed, leaning against the counter, elbow propped up as he held his head up with his fist flat against his chin, “My dad’s brother is coming to stay for us for the summer,”
“Your uncle?” and you miss the way Yuji grimaces at the question, too busy pulling on oven mitts, “Your dad’s great — I can’t imagine your uncle being any different,” you pull the cookies from the oven, swatting Yuji’s hand as he tries to take one off the still burning rack, “you’ll burn yourself, just wait,”
Your own family was scattered here and there now — and the Itadoris had been like your own family as you grew up — Jin was like a second dad to you, he had always looked after you, even after you had graduated from college. The quiet man didn’t say much but he did a lot, and you couldn’t imagine his brother being much different.
And then the door swung open, a large man caught in the backlight of the summer sun, casting a long shadow across the entryway made your breath stick in your chest as if it was where it belonged — pinned under his mere presence.
“Looks like you’ve done nothing to change the place, did you?” He takes a step or two in and finally his body is cast into view — tattoos bound like ribbons against his skin, muscles are heavy cords that look more monstrous than human — as no human should be as hulking as he was. But that was nothing compared to his face itself — black tattoos lining both sides of his face in an intricate pattern that stole your breath from your lungs, while his eyes were black holes that cut right through you than at you, a flicker of flames burning underneath, “tch, brat, take my things up—“ he tosses the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at Yuji who catches it with a glare, before his gaze slides to Choso, “and he’s still here?”
“Don’t be rude to my son and his brother, Sukuna,” Jin sighed, entering behind him as he shut the door, “Choso is welcome, and don’t forget you’re a guest here,” he takes the bag from his son, and takes it upstairs instead.
And Sukuna’s gaze finally falls on you. It’s heavy, the sharp tip of a sword tracing every inch of your body as it circled its weak points — his eyes lingers on the curves of your body — and perhaps the points he liked too.
“And who’s this?” he jerks his head towards you gruffly, as if you couldn’t answer yourself.
You say your name, “I’m their neighbor,” and he nods, eyes darting to Choso, his body growing tense, as he gritted his teeth, but Sukuna was only all smiles, he took steps forward. You can’t help but avert your gaze, as he approaches, fingers outstretched, a slight flinch but it’s gone soon enough.
You glance up, and find him taking a bite of one of your cookies, tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips, “sweet,” he devours it, “not bad, brat,” and he leans close again to grab another, “but probably not as sweet as you.”
And your eyes widen, as he bears no reaction, except for a small smirk that graces his lips, as he follows his brother upstairs, “You better not be fucking around in my things,”
You don’t hear Jin’s reply, still utterly consumed by what just happened.
“You okay? He’s just like that,” Choso murmurs, “he won’t bother you, I promise,”
“No, no, I’m okay,” your lips curl in an offer of reassurance, but you’re sure it falls flat, as your eyes glance back at the stairs.
And that was your first time meeting Sukuna.
But far from your last.
The next time you saw him was at a summer barbecue the Itadoris always had to kick off summer break. And most of your time was spent chatting with Choso and kicking Yuji’s ass at Mario Kart, until it grew dark, and Choso was stuck carrying a slightly tipsy Yuji inside.
You laid back in the patio chair, scrolling on your phone to the symphony of cicadas filling the silence, the smoke from the barbecue still lingering in the night — and then you hear the creak of the back door open.
“You want another drink, Choso?”
“I’d love a drink, girl,” and your eyes snap over to spot Sukuna, standing with hands tucked into his pockets, a black tank you assumed was several sizes too small.
“Sure,” you say, slipping from your chair, “but we only have the mix for a sex on the beach,” and his eyes find yours, a ghost of a gruff chuckle on his lips.
“Sounds perfect if it’s from you, sweetheart,” and you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes — he may be nice to look at, but he isn’t smooth, you make the drink in relative silence. Until you sense his presence behind you, your head whipping back to find him looming, your breath caught in your throat.
“Uh—“
“Just wanted to see a master bartender at work, you seem like you really know what you’re doing, with, what’s the drink called again?” And you force yourself to look forward, ignoring the weird mix of his musk and alcohol, with the clink of the ice cubes against the glsd breaking the silence.
“Sex on the beach,” you offer it to him, and fuck, you don’t like it — don’t like him and his smug grin, the way your eyes can’t pull away from his, the way your heart clenched, and the way you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile on off his face.
“Good girl,” he plucks the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours, “want to have one with me?”
And you almost find yourself saying yes, find yourself buckling under the heat of his gaze and the summer humidity that clings to your skin and strangles the sense from your head — and you can’t help but think how nice those fingers of his would feel around your neck—
“No, no, I probably should head home. It’s late—“ and just then the back door opens again, Choso standing in the doorway, “Choso, where’s Yu?”
“I got him to bed. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” and you nod, grabbing your bag with a slight nod to Sukuna before disappearing inside, and you don’t catch the way your best friend glares at Sukuna.
And you don’t see the way Sukuna stares at you as you walk away either.
The third time you meet Sukuna is a few nights later — and it wasn’t for lack of trying to avoid him.
“Can I have some popcorn?” you ask, eyes still glued to the TV, a movie that the two of you had seen a million times before during movie night, “Choso?” you glance over at him, but he’s staring off into space, “hello?” you nudge him, and he finally comes to.
“Sorry, what?” And you sigh, leaning over and grabbing the popcorn bowl, “sorry I was just—“ he shakes his head, “nothing,”
“You’re so convincing,” and you see a flush crawl up his neck, “C‘mon, what’s bothering you?”
You toss a pillow at Choso, the pillow bouncing off his face to land in his lap, the glow of the TV in his dark bedroom giving you enough light to see the glare on his face, “Cho, you’ve been brooding all night — did Yuji call you by your name instead of big brother?”
He scoffs, “I only got upset about that once,” or twice or maybe ten times, “it’s Sukuna. He’s been really grating on my nerves,” and your eyebrows knit together, as you put the volume of the TV down.
“What has he done?” and Choso hesitates, several emotions flicker across his face before a stoic look glazes over his face, as he presses his hand to his lips, “you can tell me—“
There’s a knock at the door, and Yuji sticks his head in, “Hey, Dad has to sleep now for a meeting, so move to the living room,” and you throw popcorn at him, but he only catches one or two in his mouth and leaves.
You sigh, “I should probably just go home anyway, I have to get some sleep,” you glance at Choso, who is fascinated with his floor all of a sudden, “you okay?” He moves to get up, but you shake your head, “just chill, I’ll walk back.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, “I’m fine, just get home safe okay?”
You snort, “think I’ll be fine walking the ten feet to my door,” you grab your things, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”
And you close the door softly, turning to head up the hallway and out of the house, bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re turning the corner, when you nearly crash into someone.
A hand curls around your wrist to steady you, “You should watch where you’re going, brat,” and your eyes flit up to find a dark gaze looking back down at you, lips curled in a small grin, “don’t know what you’ll find wandering these halls,”
You pull your arm away, “I’m pretty familiar with these halls and what wanders them,”
“Not all of them,” the low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you brush past him, avoiding his piercing gaze, cutting through you with practiced ease, “what were you doing here so late anyway?” You ignore him as you go to grab your shoes, but find them missing.
“Have you seen my shoes?” and he only tilts his head, arms crossed, muscles inked with tattoos that littered up and down, and you knew he could pin you down with barely an ounce of effort.
“Maybe answer my question and I’ll tell you,” and your lips twist into a scowl, as you begin to look around, checking the coat closet, under the couch, “was he really that bad?” And his question makes you pause, “the cursed brat, in bed? Did he not do the job for you?”
You haul yourself to your feet, “What is your problem?”
And his expression is as milquetoast as ever, as if he had asked you about the weather as opposed to asking if you had fucked your best friend, “You don’t have to be fucking sensitive, it’s just a question,” he runs his painted nails through his dyed cropped hair, low light glinting off the black sheen, “unless it was that bad,”
“Fuck off,” you scoff, trying to walk past him but he blocks you, “what?”
“Maybe I’ll help you find your shoes, if you have a drink with me,” and you cross your arms.
“Did you go to jail for stealing? Because with all those muscles and tattoos, I’m surprised you weren’t caught sooner,” and he’s leaning closer, breath warming your lips and your blood alike, boiling under your skin as if he had set you on fire without lying a single finger on you.
“Didn’t take you to be one to admire me, little one, after all, I’m just your neighbors’ uncle aren’t I? Jailbird, criminal, fucking lowlife, right? And his fingers ghost over your jaw, “but I don’t see you pulling away, do I?”
And you aren’t. But why aren’t you? Every brain cell is telling you to fucking run, but your body wants nothing more than to lean into his touch, to give in, let yourself be engulfed by him—
The creak of the door has you jumping back, “hey, you forgot your shoes—“ Choso starts, and his gaze snaps between you and Sukuna.
“Thanks, Cho,” you slip past Sukuna, grabbing your shoes, “i was wondering what I did with them,” you step into your shoes, cheeks still burning as you can’t quite meet your best friend’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,”
And you’re gone without another word, the silence of your exit hanging overhead as the screen door clicks closed behind you. Sukuna watches you leave, and as he turns he’s met with a glare from Choso.
Sukuna only gives a gruff chuckle, walking past as he lets his shoulder bump against Choso’s, “What are you fucking looking at?”
And now he had visited you in your dreams too.
“S’fucking wet,” Sukuna has you pinned down with one hand, face hovering over your drenched cunt, as he toyed with it, tugging your folds apart to let some of your pre drip onto your bedspread, “fucking slut, you were begging for this, weren’t you?”
And a thick digit sinks into you with little resistance, making your back arch as pleasure rips up your spine, “fuck off,” you manage, between pants.
“I know, brat, that’s what I’m trying to do,” he laughs, as he works a second finger inside you with practiced ease, “like I was made to fuck this cunt open, my fingers are already fucking drenched, and all I’ve done is open you up,” and to punctuate his point, he’s scissoring his fingers to stretch your walls out, dragging against them, as your mouth falls open in a silent moan.
“A-ah, please—“ and he’s grinning now, a purr as he leans down to meet your blown out gaze. His fingers begin to fuck you open, his thumb rubbing against your clit as your body rocked against his hand. And a grunt has you looking at him, only to see him palming his erection, slit dripping with precum, “Sukuna, please—“
“Knew you’d be a good girl f’me, good little slut gonna break my fingers in two,” and his other hand spanks your clit, “now cum,”
And you do, muscles clenching as you do, a cry of his name on your lips that does nothing but stroke his ego, your orgasm soaking his hand. Eyes fluttering open to find him licking your release from his fingers, as his other hand undoes his pants and tugs down his boxers, his cock already dragging against your still twitching cunt.
“Fuck,” you mumble, under your breath, and he only smiles.
“Now you’re getting it, baby.”
And your alarm jolts you awake, you stare at your ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin, while you glance at your side to find nothing but your comforter beside you. Not to mention, as you shifted, feeling the telltale stickiness of your arousal and the dull throbbing of your cunt, the aftermath of your dream — your very wet dream.
“Fuck,” you say, this time out loud and to no one but yourself. This was going to be a problem, if you let this go on. And you couldn’t. Not after the last time — you swing your feet over the edge of the bed and stand, glancing back at the stain of your pre that you flipped your comforter over — and not after that.
“Have you been avoiding me?”
Yes, you have done a good job. Until now.
You gritted your teeth, as you stood in the doorway of the room. But how could you have avoided him in the guest room of the house he lived in?
And as he loomed in the doorway of the kitchen, dwelling in the shadow of his form, you were kicking the ass of past you, the one that had convinced you it was okay to stay over because Sukuna had been out.
“Had” being the operative word.
It had been a few days since you had found yourself at the Itadoris. And more than a few days since you had found yourself dreaming of Sukuna — waking up with his name on your tongue and your panties uncomfortably drenched. You had gone through more underwear this week than you had in a month. And it didn’t help that you felt the need to get off once you did wake, the ache between your thighs was too much to bear before sleep.
And now here was the subject of your dirty dreams darkening your doorway, as if your dreams were some naughty prophecy waiting to unfold (though you were sure he could fold you).
“What are you talking about?”
And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had made sure Sukuna wasn’t around when you came over (the absence of his motorcycle is a telltale sign), and always left before he returned. But tonight you made the mistake of drinking with Choso, the two of you finishing two bottles of sake before being completely fucked.
Your head was spinning — you could barely have made it to the bathroom, much less your home. Choso had corralled you into taking his bed, before going and collapsing on his couch. It had been only a few hours into the night before you got up in a haze of confusion with your mouth drier than the Sahara. You pulled yourself up, slipped on thin sleep shorts that you had thrown off at some point due to the summer humidity, before finding your way to the door.
You made your way to the kitchen, the squeak of the fridge as you pulled it open to grab a water bottle. And that’s when he spoke.
“And here you are,” and the water bottle nearly slipped from your grasp, “no need to jump, brat, I’m not a monster or a shadow,”
No, but he’s so much worse, he’s real.
“I was just getting something to drink,” you murmur, and he tilts his head, as he takes a step closer.
“Just water?’ That’s not the kind of drink you still owe me,” and why was his presence so intoxicating? Several drinks in and you could still hold your own, still speak in complete sentences, and even make your way home on foot. But Sukuna comes near, and suddenly you can barely form a fucking syllable, your limbs feel far too heavy, and your body is nearly burning, as if he had turned your blood to wine without any miracle needed.
No, it was more of a curse.
“I don’t remember owing you anything,” and he’s tilting his head, amusement flickering across his lips, a step closer and then another, until you’re utterly engulfed in his presence. You can smell the mix of exhaust and sweat off of him from his motorcycle ride, the way his jaw tenses as if he is holding himself back from taking a bite, and the way his gaze pierces into you as if he has you pinned like a butterfly under glass.
“Do I need to give you a reason?” And when his fingers ghosted over your swell of your cheek, a featherlight brush from rough, calloused skin that makes a shiver roll down your body, “didn’t think I had to with the way you were nearly melting into my touch when I saw you last, girl,”
“I wasn’t the one begging for me to be there,” and he clicks his tongue derisively, and you wonder what else he can do with it, before his fingers grip your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to his.
“Tch, so pleased with yourself just for resisting, are you, sweetheart?” he tilts his head, while his other hand slithers down your side until he finds your waist and tugs you close, lips hanging close, a forbidden fruit begging you to take a bite, “imagine how good you’d feel if you gave in,” and you almost do, melting into his touch, as if you were made to fit in his arms, leaning up so you could feel the warm breath of his welcome—
SLAM!
You’re sent stumbling back again, clearing your throat, as the sounds of footsteps grow close, and Yuji wanders into the kitchen, mouth pulled open by his yawn, as he blinks as he spots the two of you.
“Hey, I thought you were asleep upstairs,” he walks past the two of you to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sparing a short glance at Sukuna, “and I thought you had plans,”
“Plans can change, brat,” Sukuna sighs, his eyes still trained on you — a homing missile with a target, and Yuji was an obstacle in the way, “shouldn’t you go back to bed?”
“I could ask you two the same,” he leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, while you only shook your head.
“I’m going to go to bed,” your only exit opportunity and you’d take it — there had been enough mistakes made, and you didn’t need another to add to the list, and you’re slipping back into your room without another word.
You don’t see the way Sukuna glares at his nephew, cursing the day of his existence with only his eyes, only gaining a confused stare in return, “What? Ow!”
And you’re only left questioning why Yuji is holding a bag of ice to his head the next morning.
But you knew you couldn’t avoid Sukuna forever — and you couldn’t avoid how you felt either.
Especially when he gave you exactly what you wanted — space. You had barely seen him for the next week, the former criminal making himself scarce, apparently telling his brother that he had grown tired of “rooming with a bunch of brats,” and had found himself another place to stay for a while.
Jin had sighed when you had asked over breakfast a day or so after he left, “I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but we’ll see. The only requirement of his release was to stay in the prefecture—”
“And that’s already far too close,” Yuji muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from his dad, “so we don’t even know if he’ll be back huh?”
Jin shrugs, as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know — your uncle isn’t one to stay in one place — unless there’s something that he wants,”
“I’ll take any amount of time that he’s not here,” Choso shakes his head, offering you a small smile, “and this way you can stay over in the guest room now,”
“Yeah, true,” you offered a weak smile, as you continued to pick at your food. This was good news, things were going back to normal, but even so, as you pushed your food on your plate — why did your chest ache so much?
“Yuck, do people’s heads really explode like that?” Yuji sat with the two of you in the living room, TV playing the movie Yuji had chosen, shoveling popcorn by the fistful.
“How would we know that?” you snort, stealing popcorn from his bowl, “why did you even choose this movie anyway?”
“He heard there was a Megan Thee Stallion cameo in it,” and Yuji’s cheeks flushed, visible even in the dim illumination of the TV, as he got to his feet.
“I’m gonna get a drink, do you two want anything?” And you both shake your heads, as you stifle your chuckle.
“You wanna stay over tonight?” Choso asks, and you tilt your head, toying with a popcorn kernel between your fingers.
You shrug, “we’ll see,” your eyes drift back to the movie, but you feel the creak of the bed as he shifts.
“You don’t have been avoiding staying over, even though it’s just us,” Fuck, your eyes still found themselves on the screen instead of him, anywhere but him, and you can hear the unspoken words — even though Sukuna is not here, “are you sure we’re good?”
And you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t him that was bothering you. It wasn’t him keeping you up at night, it wasn’t him who had been tempting you the last few weeks, and it wasn’t him that you wanted to see — no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself.
So you don’t.
You smile as best you can, “Everything’s fine, Choso,” and he frowns, still unsure, and you know there’s only one thing that will assure him, if only a little, “I’ll stay over,”
And so you end up in the guest room — far too late. Even though Sukuna no longer lingered here, his scent still did, even with the sheet change and the small amount of his things gone, he was still very much here.
And it did little for your sleep. Or maybe too much.
Again, you dreamt of him, his large palms dragging down your sides, lips pulled in a smirk that he pressed to the hollow of your throat before it’s consumed by a flash of canines that pinch and tease the softness of your flesh.
“S’fucking wet,” he huffs a chuckle out, “such a little slut, been wanting this for far too long haven’t you?” And he’s undoing your robe with ease, a single tug has your body revealed to him, “haven’t even laid a finger on you and look at the mess you’ve made,” he clicks his tongue, and a whine parts your lips, “already whining like a bitch?”
He shoves two fingers inside you, a gasp ripped from your throat, thick digits stretching your walls, clenching around the intrusion, “Sukuna—please,”
“Silly girl,” he murmurs in your ear, “I’m not even the one touching you now,” and fantasy melts into reality as his hand cups your chin, eyes fluttering open, “but I know I can make you cum faster than any dream,”
Wait. What?
And suddenly the touch down your body feels all too real, pain ribboning from the fingers squeezing your hips hard, and a gasp as your body trembles, still caught between sleep and reality. Your body can’t move, but it’s not the weight of your own limbs keeping you still.
Your eyes shoot open completely, sleep shed completely from your mind.
And you found Sukuna, his lips curled in a smile that was far too familiar from other sleepless nights. But was it? Or was it another dream that he had invaded, far too real as you slept in his bed, rather than your own.
Your hand reaches out for him shakily, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Is this real?” you mutter, more to yourself, but he takes it upon himself to answer, his hand darting out to curl around your wrist, squeezing, while the other holds himself up, mattress creaking a divot where his hand pressed in, body heat all too close.
“Want me to pinch you? Can’t say it’ll be the cheek you’re thinking of,” he chuckles, unable to meet his gaze, “don’t go acting like a shy virgin now, woman. You’re the one having wet dreams about me,”
“No, I-I, it wasn’t—“ but your brain is short circuiting and his laugh that rumbles against you tells you he’s enjoying this far too much, “what are you doing here? I thought you left,” the statement comes out far too biting, and he raises an eyebrow.
“I did, but it was just for a week. I had some business to deal with,” and a grin pulls at his lips, “why? Did you miss me, brat? Is that why you’re dreaming of me?”
You’re squirming underneath him trying to look anywhere but him, “I’m not, it wasn’t—“ and he only hums, dragging a hand down your front, until he’s reaching your shorts, a brief pause to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t, and fingers pressing against your soaked shorts.
“That why you’re soaked through your fucking shorts?” And the rough pads of his fingers grind against your eager hole, nearly swallowing you in, only the thin fabric of your shorts keeping his fingers from fucking you then and there, “least your body’s honest — so eager to get fucked,” and he’s teasing your drenched entrance, drawing his fingers back to have your pre like spiderwebs between the two digits.
“Sukuna, please—“ and his lips curl.
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll go,” a small whine left your throat, the throbbing between your thighs growing with the way his gaze undid you — unscrewed you by your hinges and watched you fall apart, only to ask you to put yourself back together.
But you couldn’t. Not without him.
“Sukuna—“
“I didn’t ask you to whine, are you going to answer my question—-“
“Fuck me,” the words fall from your lips as if possessed, and you can’t find it in you to regret them.
And he smiles all the same.
“About fucking time,” and his fingers meanly rub against your clit through the paper thin fabric of your shorts, “didn’t even fucking put on panties and you expect me to think you didn’t want me fuck you open,” and embarrassment burns at your cheeks, “did you get this wet from dreaming about me?” And no words come to your mind, and he gives you a sharp spank to your clothed slit, drawing a sharp gasp to your lips and slick flooding from your folds, “better use your words, woman,”
“Fuck, please, I need—“ and his fingers practically rip your shorts off, letting your cunt gush onto the sheets.
“Need me to fuck you that bad? G’nna beg this criminal to fuck you open?” And he’s toying with your folds, tugging your tight hole apart as his eyes rake over your pussy, exposed for him, “after all of your teasing, what makes you think you even deserve to be fucked? Maybe I should leave you like this, fingers buried in your cunt, wishing they were your neighbor’s uncle’s,” and a sadistic smile graces his features as it only can his, “fuck yourself for me,”
You whimper, as his fingers leave your hole, clenching around nothing as if begging for his touch, “what? But—“
“Fuck yourself until you cum, wanna see what you’ve been doing when you’re fucking me in your sleep,” the absence of his touch leaves you keening and needy, for something, anything to get you off. Want overcomes inhibition, and your shaky fingers find their way to your cunt, fingertips tracing the outer lips, a gasp you barely recognize as your own when you rub against your clit, “c’mon girl, gotta open yourself up for me — think I’ll fit if you just rub yourself like that?” And he’s pressing his clothed erection against your thigh — and he’s fucking big — rock hard cock rubbing against you through damp damp sweatpants.
And his fingers grabs your own, guiding them to your slick hole, letting them slip past your fluttering walls, while his own teased your outsides, “Good girl,” and the praise makes your walls clench, and he’s chuckling, “want to be a fucking good girl, then fuck yourself until I see you cum for me,”
You swallow your whines, beginning to move your fingers in and out, your insides clinging to you, as if begging for something longer, thicker, better — and you knew his fingers would be. A moan falls from your lips, and he clicks his tongue.
“Gotta be rougher than that,” and his fingers curl around the base of your own, using your fingers as a glorified fuck toy. Your head lolled back, as he controlled the pace of your fingers, fucking you hard and fast, reaching places you didn’t think were possible with your fingers, “that’s it, you’re close aren’t you? Like being fucked with your own fingers, don’t you, you slut?” And you’re shuddering, soft cries and moans filling the silence of the night with the loud squelch of your cunt.
“Sukuna, f-fuck, ngh, I can’t—“ and he only begins to rub on your clit with his thumb.
“Yes you can,” he gruffly chuckles, murmuring in your ear as he leans forward, “cum on your fingers like you have every night for me,” and he forces your gaze to meet his as your fingers brush that one spot that has your back arching, “say my name,”
And you do, cumming hard around your fingers, as he uses them to fuck you through your orgasm, the wet noises of your folds growing louder as your thighs shake. Your eyes meet his, glassy with tears from your high, and Sukuna leans down to lick the salty tear from your cheek.
He pulls your fingers from inside you, your sticky cum coating your digits and even dripping onto his own. He smirks as he eyes them, before sliding them into his mouth. A moan pulled from your lips as he sucks your essence clean from them, tongue dragging up the length of your fingers.
“Shit, that was a nice moan,” and his eyes fall back to your drenched cunt, “Still so fucking tight,” he clicks his tongue, Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly? G’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”
he hums, taking in your ruined state — tear stained cheeks, your dripping cunt, and your red ruined lips from biting them, “so fucking pretty like this,” and you hear him shift, the distinct sound of his phone camera, making your eyes snap open.
“No, fuck, no don’t—“ and he’s turning the screen around to show you how absolutely fucked you look, “please—“
“It’s a little too late for that, can’t have anyone buying your little virgin act anymore huh?” he’s grinning as he leans forward, pinning your thighs in place as you try to squirm away, “don’t move,”
His order makes your muscles tense, unable to move your body under the heavy grasp of his hands splayed against your hips. The pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh, as his lips dare closer to your weeping slit.
“Fuck, are you a virgin though? You’re still so fucking tight even after that little show you put on for me,” and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his breath warming your twitching cunt, “either way, you won’t be one soon,” and he’s burying his mouth in your pussy.
You moan, covering your mouth before he sucks on your clit, tongue teasing your hole open, a wave of heat flooding your body. The sounds of his licking and slurping fill your ears — and you wonder how the whole house isn’t awake yet.
You can’t stop your hips from nearly fucking his face, but he spanks your thigh, hard, as he pulls his mouth from your dripping slit, “I told you not to move,” and he spanks your clit for good measure, making you yelp against your fingers, “tell me when you’re about to cum,” and you whimper, “or I can open this door and let the house hear us,”
You nod, but he doesn’t miss the way your slit twitches at the thought, and his mouth curls in a nasty smirk, “such a fucking slut, maybe I will,” and he’s plunging two thick fingers into your greedy cunt, a gasp ripped from your throat at the intrusion, walls fluttering as they attempt to accommodate his digits. But it’s all squeezing and barely any stretch, as his fingers work you open.
And it doesn’t take long to get you worked up, his digits knuckle deep and dripping wet, “gonna fucking break my fingers in two with your virgin hole, girl,” he grunts, your body burning with his touch alone, nails dragging against your walls, curling so they can bully that sweet spot just right, “you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” the telltale squeeze of your cunt tells him so, and you’re nodding, and his fingers slip from inside.
You’re whining, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, “Please, fuck, wanna cum,” the pleasure that had built was throbbing, a dam close to bursting but denied its relief, so it remained, begging and waiting — “please, Sukuna—“
“So you do know how to beg like a good little whore, gonna fuck you again, but you can’t cum until I tell you,” and he’s sinking three fingers into you now, eyes rolling back as your back arches, but he’s fucking you meanly, curling and twisting his fingers, until the pleasure is a tight knot in your belly, barely hanging on from snapping, “wait,” he grunts, and it’s as if your warmth is made for him — or now it was, because he’s made it his, “wait,” and you’re sure he’s reached your cervix somehow, fingertips reaching places you’ve only dreamed of (literally), and then he leans down lips around your clit as he orders you, “now, cum,”
And you do, hard, as he sucks around your clit while fucking you through your orgasm, cum flooding his fingers and face alike, drenching him, even as he slurped and sucked up every bit.
He finally pulls away, a shiver slips down your spine as he slips his fingers from inside you, pink tongue flicking against his lips, still slick with your cum, What a fucking mess you’ve made,” he sneers, but he’s licking his lips clean all the same, “should make you clean up the mess you made, shouldn’t I?” And he’s pressing the pads of his fingers to your lips, you’re too fucked out to fight, lips parting with ease, “suck,” and you do, opening wide to let his fingers inside, lips and tongue curled around the same fingers that had explored your cunt.
He watched as you obediently sucked every drop of your juices off, a trickle of drool slipping down the corner of your lips makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants, and he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth.
“Better than your dreams, huh, sweetheart?” he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, he can’t fucking wait a minute longer, “turn around, gonna fuck this slutty princess cunt from behind,” but you only can watch as he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers alike, his cock slapping against his stomach.
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you had imagined. Mushroom tip red and hard, as pretty veins run up the sides, and he was looking as if he’d not only split you open, but break you all together.
Your thighs quaked at the thought, more slick slipping from your needy cunt — and you wanted him to.
Your knees shake, as you turn slowly, much too slowly his pace, and he grunts, his hands gripping your hips, as he flips you onto your stomach, a yelp leaving your lips as you bounce on the mattress. “have to fuckin’ do everything myself for this whore’s pussy,”
You’re gripping the sheets, nails surely tearing holes in the thin fabric of the sheets, as his calloused palm comes down on your ass, hard, the smack echoing in the silence of the night, a mewl you don’t recognize as your own, “Sukuna, please, I can’t—“
“You can, you’ll take whatever I give you, brat,” and another smack finds your ass again, as he pinches the flesh for good measure, drawing another moan from your lips and another chuckle from his, “and you’ll take this cock too,” and he doesn’t spare you a moment as he presses his swollen, dripping cockhead to your drenched hole, smearing his pre all over your ass — as if to erase any doubt you were his, because there wasn’t — before finally sliding in.
God, fuck.
Your arms were already shaking, barely able to hold yourself up, but your face nearly plants into the mattress as he sinks into you — he was too fucking big. Even all the prep he had given you was nothing, nothing compared to how much his dick was stretching your cunt.
He hummed, as your insides swallowed him eagerly, even with the slight resistance of your tight little pussy, watching as your walls parted for him with almost practiced ease, sucking him deeper and deeper, as if you were made for him. And you would be, after he fucked your cunt to his shape again and again — because this was far from the last time he would take you.
It was only the first.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight — am I the first to fuck this pussy?” he grunts, grasping your hips tightly, your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his dick — he had waited far too long for this, too many nights spent grasping at his cock, thinking how much better it would be buried in your pussy.
“H-hngh, Sukuna, s’big,” you’re nearly babbling as he works himself into you, inch by inch, not even halfway in, and you were gonna cum just from him putting his dick in, “can’t fit—” and he’s scoffing, watching you squirm against his length, but he only continues to fuck his way into your tight hole, another sharp slap to your ass as a warning.
“I’ll make it fit, girl,” he growls — like fuck he was stopping now that’s gotten this far, there was only one way this was ending — and it was with his cock fucking you full of his cum, “c’mon, did the dream not compare to the reality? Did you think I had a tiny dick?” and he thrusts shallowly against you, sending another inch inside your already stuffed folds, drawing a needy whine from your throat, “so fucking loud, you gonna let the whole house know what we’re doing at this rate,”
he murmurs, bending down to your ear, and your walls squeeze around him, a vice grip that has him nearly cumming then and there, but no he won’t, not yet, “fuck, did you think about letting Choso know? Maybe I’d let him watch me fuck you, only way he’ll ever see you like this,” and you whimper as he slams into you, finally bottoming out as his tip bullies your womb, making you cry out against your fingers, “to think the pretty girl next door is on her hands and knees like a slut for me now, getting split open by my dick. What would Choso think?”
You’re whining, “Please, fuck, slow down—” but he only pulls out a little to piston back in, balls slapping against your ass as he does, setting a mean pace, as he chuckles in your ear.
“You’re saying that, but we both know that’s not what you want — slutty fucking pussy trying break my cock in two,” the sounds of your skin slapping against you as his tip brushes against your cervix rings in your ear, even as he murmurs in it, “y’’know he wants to fuck you right? The little brat is always watching you, nearly fisting himself at the sight of you,” he’s forcing you upwards, pressing your back to his chest, “he wants you, but he’ll never have you, because this pussy is mine,” and his hand finds the bulge in your stomach, pressing down, as you keen, head falling back against his shoulder, as tears pooled in your pretty eyes, “but he’d never be able to reach here and fuck you like you want — like a whore,” his other hand pinches and teases your pebbled nipples, before sliding up to your neck, squeezing lightly, “say you’re mine,”
You can’t find the words, all of them fucked out of your body to make room for his cock seemingly — the only words remaining his name and “please,” but you have to do better than that, and he slows his pace to nothing, as he pulls out so only his tip teases your entrance, a whine leaving your pathetic mouth.
“If you’re not mine, guess I don’t need to let you finish, do I?” and you’re shaking your head, frantic and repentant.
“I’m yours, i’m yours, Sukuna, please—” and he’s sliding right back into you, fucking you harder, balls slapping against your ass and sweet cunt swallowing him up to the base, a white ring of your pre cum forming around it — and he just knows you’re close, by the twitch of your sweet pussy — and his hand reaches around to rub at your clit, “I’m—”
And he ruts into you, hard and deep that you’re sure his length brushes against your womb — and you’re cumming, falling apart around him, but he doesn’t relent — but had he ever? He didn’t relent over these past few weeks, and he wouldn’t now, not until he was filling you up and watching his cum drip out of your hole—
You’re slipping back forward, face forward into the pillow and mattress, as he grunts watching your slick drip down your ass and thighs and onto the sheets — his balls tense with his release, “Fuck—” and that’s all the warning you get before he slams back into you to bottom out, as he blows his load.
His release is hot as it fills you up, never ending it seems as he slowly fucks you through his orgasm, his spurts slowing with time, until he’s finally stilling, a soft grunt, as he pulls himself from inside your warm cunt. A soft groan at the sight of his seed spilling from inside you — you’re boneless and spent, until he has you jolting forward from the press of his fingers gathering his cum and stuffing it back in.
“Kuna, fuck, I can’t—” and he scoffs, retracting his fingers for a moment, before he’s deftly flipping you onto your back, “too sensitive,” you whine as his fingers work their way back into you.
“Did you think I was done, woman?” and his softening erection is already standing tall again, and you’re almost wanting his fingers now at this point, even as your body disagrees, pussy squeezing at the thought of him buried inside you again. He leans forward, lips brushing against yours, a kiss full of nothing of tongue and teeth, the faint taste of your own release on his lips, “we’re far from done.”
The sound of your name catches your attention, your eyes snapping up from your breakfast, “what?”
“Are you okay? Choso frowns at you, as he holds his rice bowl, the rolled tamago sliced on his plate, “you look tired,” It was another morning like always, but
You shake your head, “I just didn’t sleep well, I kept waking up from my dreams,” and it wasn’t exactly a lie — yesterday was the culmination of a million dreams you had. Dreams that only ended when the sun began to come up, with his cock still buried in your cunt as you rode him, back pressed to his chest, as he worked you up and down his dick.
And finally when he came again, this time all over your back, he finally pressed kisses up and down his back, easing himself out, as his toned arms engulfed you.
“Should clean up and I should head to Jin’s room,” he murmurs, “I have a feeling I won’t have a place to live if he finds me in here,” and you chuckle, too fucked out and tired, “we’ll have to get used to sneaking around.
“Oh will we?” you had mumbled, and he answered your question with another bruising kiss to your lips.
Yuji tilts his head, scratching it, as you lift your glass to take a sip of water, mouth far too dry now, “Is that what those noises were? It sounded like you were having nightmares,” and you nearly choke on it, but force it down, hoping the embarrassment wasn’t evident on your face, stabbing your egg.
“Yeah, I had a couple last night,” you lied, and even as you suddenly found your breakfast far too interesting, you could feel Choso’s gaze still on you — your cheeks burning as Sukuna’s words about him still rung in your ears — along with the distinct ache between your legs and on your ass he left behind, “I’m fine, I’m just going to need a nap,”
“You’re not the only one, girl,” Sukuna walks into the kitchen from the rooms, as Yuji and Choso balk at his presence.
Choso’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing here?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sukuna’s eyes find yours, the corner of his lip pulled upwards, as his gaze rakes over your form, “what’s for breakfast?” and you knew he only wished that you were the thing placed on the table for him to eat. Jin barely pays any mind, too preoccupied on his phone with his work email, as he passes a plate to Sukuna.
“When did you even get in?” Yuji asks, as he finishes his own breakfast, leaning back on his two palms. And your insides begin to tie themselves in knots at all of these questions — knowing Sukuna would like nothing more than to tell them exactly what he was doing last night.
“And where did you sleep?” Choso glares, adding fuel to the fire, as Sukuna looks down on him, lips a thin line, “you didn’t bother our guest, did you?” and your cheeks burn all the same, a flicker of amusement on Sukuna’s features, lips parting only for Jin to cut in.
“He got in early this morning. He slept in my room,” Jin says with a sigh, “Don’t you two have to get ready? You’re going to your mom’s this morning,”
“She’s not my mom,” Choso grumbles under his breath, “more like a leech,” but he still gets to his feet all the same, as Yuji follows suit, picking up their plates, a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder.
“I should get to work,” Jin sighs, sparing a sharp glance at his brother, “behave,” and he turns to you, “feel free to stay as long as you want. Yuji and Choso will be back this afternoon,”
And the three of them find their way out of the house, a rush of bags and feet, as Choso spares a glance at you.
“I’ll be back soon — you can hang out in my room if you want,” Choso says, before scowling at Sukuna, “let me know if you need anything,” and you nod, waving him off, and the door shuts behind them all.
Sukuna slides into place beside you, sitting as the two of you eat breakfast in relative silence. You finish up your meal, and move to get up, but Sukuna’s hand finds its way onto your thigh, holding you in place.
“Are you done?” and you glance at him, plate empty and food untouched, “with eating?”
“I am,” you raise an eyebrow, “And you?”
“My appetite wants something else, sweetheart,” he leans forward, fingers inching higher until his thumb grazes your inner thigh.
“And what’s that?” and he nearly growls his next words, thin patience already tearing in two, just as he would your clothes if you weren’t careful.
“I’m done playing coy, woman,” he’s lifting you with ease, slinging you over his shoulder as you gasp, and he’s gotten you on top of the counter, the very same counter you had baked cookies on the day he had arrived, but now his hulking body was quickly pressing your legs apart, “there’s only one thing I want to eat in this kitchen, and it’s between your fucking thighs.”
“Not sick of it yet?” you chuckle.
“Think I could bury myself in your slutty pussy for days and not get sick of it,” and he looms over you, just as he had that first day, and he leans down to kiss you, stealing the logic from your mind and leaving only the need for his touch behind, “it is the sweetest thing I ever tasted after all.”
“Really?” and he smirks, as his fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts ripping them and your panties down, the cool air against your already wet cunt.
“Want me to prove it?”
And oh, he would. Again and again.
✧ a/n: i have a problem. i really wanted to write something with degradation ok?
✧ taglist: , @k0z3me , @monstrousbuu , @abiiebibie , @strawmariee , @luciiferslover , @sxnkuna , @psychxbby , @addehehe , @cpu1d , @dreamtardisspace , @authorintheshadows666 , @arcielee , @trxnmagic , @smilk01 , @abcdbleh , @elisaj313-blog , @jinslunv , @n3ptunxe , @pinkyvomit , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @rat-loves , @spider-fan72 ,, @niks1673 , @lafffyyytafffyyy , @miseraa , @astraxa-xx , @fushitoru , @hanxyy , @milky-milkyway , @nakariabnrb , @johannakhalafalla , @tojicvmbucket , @flyingtranscatofeffed , @vampzys , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @k1ttybean , @catsgomurp , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @forest-fruits-jam , @mua-for-now , @pricetagofficial
#sab [mlist]#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna fanfiction#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#ryomen smut#ryomen sukuna x you
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.
you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”
“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”
“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”
“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”
“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”
“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”
“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”
“sure,” he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”
“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”
“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”
you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.
—————
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.
“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”
it’s way too early for this.
by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.
that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.
“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”
“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”
“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”
satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.
this is…new. very, very new.
“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”
“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.
you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.
“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”
“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”
“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”
“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
—————
the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over when—
“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”
“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.
“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.
“do you still throw away the ends of these?”
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”
“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.
“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”
“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
“yeah, as if.”
“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.
ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.
“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”
yeah. very snobby.
“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”
“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”
“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”
“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”
“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”
“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”
it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.
“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”
“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”
“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”
“i know you’re not talking—”
“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.
“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”
“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”
“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”
“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”
“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”
“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.
—————
satoru meets you when you’re six.
he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.
somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?
he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.
so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.
your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.
“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.
it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.
“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.
it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.
“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.
fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.
“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”
and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.
he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.
it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?
——
“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”
“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.
oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.
“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”
“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”
“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”
“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”
“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”
satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.
—————
it’s night four.
satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.
he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.
scarily handsome, in fact.
you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.
“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”
“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.
“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”
“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”
“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”
“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.
“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”
“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.
“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.
you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.
“how would you know—”
“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”
“he was hot—”
“yeah? and i’m not?”
he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.
“satoru, what are you—”
“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”
“and what am i supposed to do with this information?�� you ask defiantly.
it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.
“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”
and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.
so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.
“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”
“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”
“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.
“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.
“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.
“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”
“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”
“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.
“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”
that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”
“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.
you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.
“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.
satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.
it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.
“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”
so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.
“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”
“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”
“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”
“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”
“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”
“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.
the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.
you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.
“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”
“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.
it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.
“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”
“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.
“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.
fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”
do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)
PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).
WORD COUNT: 17.4k words
SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.
A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
Chapter 1. The café.
The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes.
It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case.
You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.
“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face.
Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh.
You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face.
“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly.
“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way.
“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself.
“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added.
“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief.
“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug.
You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all.
Almost as if he was enjoying it.
“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment.
You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung.
“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?”
A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama.
You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong.
“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth.
“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever.
“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?”
Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body.
“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos.
“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces.
“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back.
“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance.
“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“Fine, then live with me for a week.”
“What?”
“Wait, what?”
“Huh?”
You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses.
“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.
He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked.
“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly.
“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background.
“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze.
“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner.
“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more.
“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away.
“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained.
Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—
“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap.
You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever.
“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore.
“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second.
Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose.
“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face.
“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled.
“Yeah. Yes, they are.”
Chapter 2. The humble abode.
Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back.
It wasn’t easy.
Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come.
Heeseung was going to be your roommate.
The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.
Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment.
And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home.
“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you.
“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled.
“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had.
“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically.
“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”
“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment.
“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization.
He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”
And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends.
“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you.
On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’
“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch.
“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date.
“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly.
“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled.
Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart.
As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight.
“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him.
“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process.
“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher.
Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:
“What did I do?”
Chapter 3. Not so humble.
Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place.
It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while.
It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days.
It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days.
It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate.
His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind.
“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked.
“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top.
“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way.
“Hah, as if.”
“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked.
You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?”
You gave him a look before retreating back to your room.
“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?”
“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door.
“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”
“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”
“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever.
“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath.
“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.”
Chapter 4. Not your driver.
“Toothbrush?”
“Check.”
“Laptop?”
“Check.”
“Charger?”
“Check.”
“Passport?”
“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing.
“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.
“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed.
The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”
You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”
“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled.
You stared at him, expressionless.
You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face.
“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction.
You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”
“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening.
“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked.
“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you.
“Yes!”
“No!”
You and Heeseung exchanged glances.
“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment.
You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way.
It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness.
Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus.
“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung.
“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized.
You rolled your eyes.
“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror.
“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”
You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both.
However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?”
“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice.
“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”
“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything.
You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you.
“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky.
“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”
“I can do it—”
“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up.
His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again.
“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was.
“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.
Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze.
“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”
You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving.
You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus.
“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out.
You blamed his scent.
It was all because of his scent.
Chapter 5. Home Alone.
It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked.
Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy.
Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one.
That’s what you have to deal with now.
With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”
Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot.
Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled.
You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned.
“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away.
The action which caused him to moan.
You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again.
“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.
“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again.
“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him.
“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules.
Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3
1. No touching each other. 2. No stealing food. 3. No loud music and video games. 4. No bringing guests without prior notice.
“No guests?”
“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked.
He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.
“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere.
Way too sincere for your own liking.
“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow.
“Since you asked nicely.”
5. Chores will be divided equally. 6. One hour bonding time each day. 7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung.
“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway.
“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him.
“We can just ignore each other.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”
“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.
Arguing with him was pointless.
“Okay, fine.”
9. Maintain cleanliness.
That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away.
You didn’t wanna hurt yourself.
You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better.
With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.
“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.
“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.
“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”
“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.
“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face.
You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.
“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.
With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.
You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.
“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.
“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.
“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”
“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”
You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.
Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.
“Can’t move?” He teased.
“I’m just tired, move.”
“Or, you’re just weak.”
“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.
“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.
“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.
“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.
Messing with you was one thing.
Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.
But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.
“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.
He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.
“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.
You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that.
“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.
“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.
Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.
Chapter 6. A proof?
In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things.
First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless.
Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook.
And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind.
Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face.
It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him.
But then, he did what he had to.
He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself.
Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it.
“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment.
There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone.
It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer.
The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside.
The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face.
He was naked.
He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background.
“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were.
And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so.
You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down.
That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it.
He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it.
He indeed had a big fucking cock.
And he knew exactly how to use it.
Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close?
You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him.
“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration.
You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind.
“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland.
Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation.
Overthinking was going to be your demise.
If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts.
You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated.
Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind.
“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness.
“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”
You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means.
However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late.
It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today.
“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it.
“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second.
“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again.
At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment.
You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place.
And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No.
You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised.
Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay.
Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer.
A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more.
Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text.
“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening.
“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes.
At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right?
“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon.
Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated.
Right?
You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you.
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes.
“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room.
“Away from you,” you mumbled.
He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done.
“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower.
Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out.
You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.”
“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled.
You had officially lost your mind.
“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him.
“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall.
“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours.
You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip.
“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave.
“Shut up,” you breathed out.
“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage.
“No,” you mumbled.
He smirked, “no?”
“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice.
You hated him.
And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips.
“Yes, baby?”
“I—”
“You?”
“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself.
“Please what, my love?”
You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud.
“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip.
“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face.
His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva.
You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.
That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses.
You had just kissed Heeseung.
And you liked it.
Well, fuck!
You had to run, you had to leave.
That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away.
It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips.
“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned.
Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth.
“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after.
“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties.
The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet.
All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again.
Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles.
Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved.
Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand.
“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny.
Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop.
You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.
Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw.
Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation.
You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window.
That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized.
You wanted Lee Heeseung.
Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages?
It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this.
You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now?
He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you?
You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back.
Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone.
He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again.
Did he go too far this time?
He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips.
However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake.
The thought of him hating you kept you awake.
And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over.
You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning.
However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room.
“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed.
There was no answer, which only irritated you more.
It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away.
Were you making a big thing out of this?
You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again.
You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect.
26 missed calls from Heeseung.
Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it?
You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside.
Gyu 🐰: I’m here!!
Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing?
Fuck.
You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door.
“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring.
The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other.
“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully.
Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you.
Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say.
That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face.
“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed.
“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face.
“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?”
You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung.
“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated.
“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him.
He only blinked, once and then twice.
“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath.
“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.
“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”
“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again.
“Gyu.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder.
“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something.
“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed.
That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice.
But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out.
You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics.
It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining.
However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people.
He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset.
Heeseung felt like his life was ruined.
Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you.
You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.
It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life.
It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung.
It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.
Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this.
He had to do something.
Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love.
It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again.
You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this.
However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself.
So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork.
“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more.
“Hee—” you gulped.
“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”
You still couldn’t look in his eyes.
He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it.
You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did.
Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time.
You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again.
“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions.
“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held.
“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him.
It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse.
“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”
“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”
“—don’t call him that.”
“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”
Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now.
You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”
“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours.
“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more.
“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”
“What?” You were taken aback.
“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper.
The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected.
There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words.
He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—
“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours.
His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen.
“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you.
He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush.
He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung.
He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more.
“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.”
“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath.
With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably.
“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”
He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.”
You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps.
“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you.
He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut.
“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?”
“What?”
“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly.
You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease.
Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum.
“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck.
You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy.
“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more.
“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body.
“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.
“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function.
“Want you,” you finally spoke up.
“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react.
You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches.
“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing.
However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.”
You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”
He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra.
Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go.
“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance.
Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well.
Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps.
The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you.
Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now.
You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead.
His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease.
Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight.
“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.
“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room.
You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says.
He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you.
“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched.
You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long.
He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended.
Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier.
He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks.
His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath.
“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care.
You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.
“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most.
“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.”
“Please,” you begged feebly.
“Please what, love?”
You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.
Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds.
“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”
His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit.
Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same.
With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you.
Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again.
You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe.
The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again.
Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear.
He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations.
The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open.
Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him.
“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt.
You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure.
Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go.
You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed.
“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over.
“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper.
“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth.
You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped.
With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure.
He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth.
He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop.
“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently.
You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened.
“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke.
“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”
“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm.
“Shh, you can take it, right?”
His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy.
“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours.
His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt.
You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him.
“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?”
“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back.
“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours.
He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself.
Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud.
Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression.
“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled.
“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”
“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say.
Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.
You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you.
“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better.
“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully.
Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.
“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him.
“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up.
You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over.
You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster.
The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out.
And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name.
You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out.
“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered.
His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop.
With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder.
“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt.
Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead.
A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you.
He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you.
You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so.
It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed.
You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.
That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation.
“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining.
“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”
“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice.
You were never the one to confront.
“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way.
“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation.
“Me?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember?”
“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong.
You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”
Heeseung looked lost as ever.
“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong.
“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled.
What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back?
“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”
Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips.
“You know what you said?”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”
There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point.
Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her.
In front of everyone at that.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him.
“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.”
“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement.
“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”
“Like pranking and bothering me?”
“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed.
“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?
A misunderstanding.
You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding.
“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression.
“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended.
“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times.
“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again.
“Yeah, princess?” He whispered.
“So, about what happened—”
“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly.
If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung.
“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”
Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name.
“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out.
“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”
“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”
He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile.
“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way.
“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his.
“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.
At that moment, you truly felt happy.
And that’s all that mattered.
Chapter 10: I saw it coming.
It’s baffling.
Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more.
Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there.
It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses.
You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before.
He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile.
Especially when he was the one who made you smile.
“Does this mean we’re dating now?”
“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled.
“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled.
“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes.
You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly.
However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today.
Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off.
Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal.
Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face.
“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”
THANK YOU FOR READING!
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#fic : only if you say yes#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#kpop smut#smut#heeseung x reader#heeseung x you#enha smut#heeseung fanfic
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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in
“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.
“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.
“‘ello?”
“si- simon, it’s me.”
“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.
“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.
“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”
9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.
suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.
“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.
twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.
“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.
“you win.”
fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.
“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.
“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”
“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.
“we’re not together anymore, simon.”
“you’re still my wife.”
silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.
“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.
“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.
“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.
----
idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley wife#ghost call of duty#tornadothoughts#ex husband ghost#fluff
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IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡
pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson
summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia
wc: 12.9k
a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.
He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.
Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.
'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.
But then another quickly followed.
'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'
At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.
He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.
Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.
Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay. Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.
'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.
The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'
'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.
'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'
He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.
'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'
So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.
He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.
One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.
He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.
The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched. He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.
He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.
Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.
The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.
"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”
"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.
"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."
"But it's not the same," you pouted.
Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.
Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.
"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.
Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.
"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.
He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.
You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.
"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.
Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.
"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.
"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."
You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.
"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."
He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.
Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.
After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.
"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.
"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in.
He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.
"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."
"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.
"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."
"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.
Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."
"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.
Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking.
"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.
"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.
"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."
"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."
"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.
"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.
Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.
In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.
Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.
As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.
For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.
You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.
It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.
And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.
He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.
You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.
"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"
You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."
Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.
You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.
"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."
"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.
Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded.
"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.
"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."
Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.
"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.
His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.
"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."
"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.
Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.
"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."
"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.
Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.
As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.
After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.
"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.
"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.
"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."
"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"
"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.
Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."
"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."
The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."
So that was his problem.
Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.
"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.
Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.
It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.
Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.
Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."
"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."
"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.
"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."
"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"
"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"
"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."
Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.
"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."
"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."
"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.
"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.
Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.
The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker.
And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.
He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest).
"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.
"Yup!" you chirped.
You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.
He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.
"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"
"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.
"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.
Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.
"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.
"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."
"Ah, yet," he grinned.
"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.
He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.
"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.
You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.
Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.
The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.
He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"
His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.
"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.
"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"
He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.
"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.
"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.
He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.
"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.
A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.
"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.
His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.
Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.
Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.
"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.
"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.
He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog.
It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.
The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.
You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.
When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.
Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment.
Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.
That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.
You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.
Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.
As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.
It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.
"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.
"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.
The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.
His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.
"For you maybe."
"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."
You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.
"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.
"Cause I want it," you answered.
With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.
"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.
"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."
"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.
That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.
"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"
"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"
God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.
"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.
That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too.
He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.
He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.
Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.
So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.
Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.
It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.
A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.
You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?
His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.
"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.
Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.
Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.
"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."
Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.
"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."
"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.
You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie.
It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.
But then he spoke again.
"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.
The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.
"What else would we be doing?" you asked.
"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.
The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.
Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.
"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.
And that was the last thing he needed to hear.
He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.
Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.
He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.
You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.
"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered.
He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.
And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.
He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.
Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.
He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.
Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.
"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."
You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.
After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.
"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.
His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.
"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.
Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.
You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.
In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.
"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.
"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.
You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.
"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.
Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.
He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.
"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.
When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.
He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.
Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.
He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.
Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.
He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.
The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.
Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.
Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.
Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.
He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.
"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.
He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.
"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.
As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.
His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.
Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.
Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.
"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.
He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"
"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.
"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.
That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."
Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"That's different..." he defended weakly.
In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.
But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.
"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"
Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.
You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.
"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.
A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.
"F-feels good..."
Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.
His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.
Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.
He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.
Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."
"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.
In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.
"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips.
You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.
"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.
Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.
"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."
Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.
"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."
He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.
Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.
"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."
Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.
He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you.
"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."
Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.
"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.
"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.
Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?
He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.
You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.
"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.
The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.
He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.
"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.
Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.
He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"
Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.
You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.
Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.
You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.
But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.
More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.
"So sensitive," he teased.
You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.
He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.
"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"
Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.
"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.
That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.
Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.
"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.
It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."
"You're the one who interrupted."
"You're the one who practically invited me to."
"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."
Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.
You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward.
"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"
"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.
His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.
"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.
"Come here," he said.
Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.
"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.
You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.
"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.
The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.
"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.
He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.
"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.
Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.
"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."
It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.
Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.
Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though.
The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.
"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."
"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.
Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.
You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.
The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.
Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.
Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.
"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."
In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.
He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.
But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.
"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.
He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.
You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.
"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."
The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.
You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.
He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.
Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.
The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.
But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.
With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.
Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.
When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself.
You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.
He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.
You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.
Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.
He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.
"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."
Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.
"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.
He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."
"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.
"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."
"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.
"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.
They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.
"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.
Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."
You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson smut#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc smut#batboys x reader
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Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.
"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.
"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."
Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.
You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"
"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.
"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."
"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.
He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.
"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."
"What do you need?"
You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."
"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"
"Well, no. Of course not-"
"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"
You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.
"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.
"I don't know, um."
"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."
"No- I don't know."
"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."
–
Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.
"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.
You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.
He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.
You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.
"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.
After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.
"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.
The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.
"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."
You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.
"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.
Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."
His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"
You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."
"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.
"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.
"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.
"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."
He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."
You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"
"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."
You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."
"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."
"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.
Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.
"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.
"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."
"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.
He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.
"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.
"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.
"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.
"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"
"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.
"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."
"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.
"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."
#toji#toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#jjk toji#jjk toji x reader#jujutsu toji#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk fluff#fanfic#toji fluff#jjk scenarios#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji
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Not So Innocent ꨄ
[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Your boyfriend Choso was always a freak but, your newly wedded husband Choso is ten times worse.
[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, heavy dirty talk, language, spitting, manhandling, praise, degrading, rough sex, overstim, slight cum play, filth, etc
[ { Paring } ] ➤ Choso Kamo x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 3.1k
——CHOSO'S SO SWEET. Often did you hear such words during your wedding. Your friends, family-, everyone called Choso sweet and simply perfect for you.
The way his eyes lingered on yours for moments far longer than needed, how he'd find any moment to caress your hand, trace small shapes into your palm or your shoulder when he could-- he was such an attentive man. People praised him all day long for how he acted around you.
Even when you weren't around and Choso talked to the guests about you, people commented that he had such a beautiful way of describing you, how he'd explain that you were his muse and all his success in the world of art stems from you.
Choso felt like without meeting you, he may have never gotten as far in life as he did. It took roughly five years or so of dating for you to even be ready for marriage. And for a long time, Choso didn't know what it was you were so afraid of but he still waited patiently until you started to hint that you were ready.
Through those years of dating, you eventually got the whole truth from Gojo, whom you hardly think much about now but, after getting the truth-- you think that's the day you ran to Choso and started throwing out hints of marriage. Perhaps that's what'd been holding you back for so long, not knowing why things happened the way they did in college.
Hell, even after you found everything out, it took some time for you to really wrap your head around things. Part of your heart, this really small part, still longed for Gojo and for that, you felt like shit for months.
Up until you eventually poured the truth out to Choso one day. The whole truth. Every detail of the list, how it started, how it ended-, everything. Choso had responded to you saying that what you told him explained a few things...
Even so, lots had changed over the course of five years. The truth was out and you were completely free from confusion. Not only that but, not too long after Gojo confessed every detail of his truth, Sukuna released his custody over Yuji. So, of course, you and Choso were at an all-time peak of happiness.
Hence why you date the day of your wedding as the happiest day of your life. You recall every moment, every laugh, every happy tear that was shed-, everything. It was such a beautiful and peaceful day.
And Choso was so sweet— too bad that only lasted until the sunset and the two of you were off to your honeymoon destination.
Okay well, he was still sweet for that day since the two of you were a bit too tired to do much after a draining flight to where you are now. As for the next day, the first day of your honeymoon... well, Choso was...
“C’mere baby,” His deep voice, husked with hours of sleep that'd just barely faded off, filled the air of the room you were in.
Soft sunlight peeping in through the curtains, even softer sheets surrounding the two of you, clothes messily scattered to the floor-- he may not have gotten to you on the night of your wedding due to sheer exhaustion but the next morning? Oh, you couldn't get a second away from him.
You've dated Choso long enough to know that sometimes he just wakes up hard, his cock poking at your ass as you'd shift around in your sleep. It was a natural occurrence you'd gotten used to. Sometimes you both ignored it and sometimes it was taken care of immediately.
But when you just got married to this man less than twenty-four hours ago, there was no way for you to have expected him to just ignore his morning wood. Especially not when Choso's been on cloud nine ever since he saw you stroll down that aisle looking just as beautiful as the first day the two of you ran into each other.
A heavy groan pours out of your husband's mouth whilst his hands run along your body, fingertips dancing against your supple skin before he finds his rightful hold on your hips.
Cheek down against the mattress, back arched sensually, and ass up in the air-- the sudden snap of Choso's hips against your ass rips a moan from your mouth, one of many that's already left you within the past hour or so.
You'd married such a sweet man but in bed, he was an entirely different person, hence why your fingers are curling into the sheets and you're attempting to pull yourself away from him for only a second. Only to earn a grunt from Choso who tugs your hips back to him, “Don’t fuckin' runnn baby,” He sighs, a lazy smile spread across his face at the sight.
You've got a bit of drool slipping down your face, Choso's fingers are stopping you from moving too much and all you can do is take it. "M-Mmgh..." Your eyes began to water a bit as his thick cock drilled into your hole relentlessly, "C-Cho, hahh, you're s-so-"
"Big?" He finishes for you, earning a squeeze from your cunt in response. The sudden tightness makes his brows push together as he tosses his head back, "Yeah baby, you've been tellin' me that for years," He teases, "M'not gettin' any smaller, sorry princess."
His tip was so fat and angry against your insides, leaving you utter mush beneath him with how hard he was fucking his cock into you. "C-Can't stand you-, fuck." You gasp as he lands a hand onto your ass, gripping at the fat and chuckling at your words.
Then he's leaning forward a bit and angling his hips differently, drilling deeper inside you before grunting out a low, "Yeah but you can cum f'me again," Choso comments tauntingly with a smirk on his face.
One of his hands starts to travel to your back, pressing you down into the mattress before he lifts a leg a places his foot onto the bed for better leverage. If you weren't clawing at the sheets before, you damn sure are now as his throbbing cock bottoms you out.
Your jaw went slack and you were tearing up, "Ah, mgh, oh... oh fuck, Choso..." You moan, trying to collect yourself and not get too caught up in how good he was fucking you.
But how could you not? Choso was fucking you deep and hard, grunting and groaning without a care in the world while trying to hold out on painting your insides white too soon.
Then there's the way your pussy narrows around his shaft, letting him know you were close again, "See? There you go-," Choso loses his words for a moment as you start moving your hips backward to meet his thrust. You'd caught him completely off guard and it makes him choke, "Y-Yeahhh, fuck yourself on me, jus’ like that," He moans.
Choso leans up a bit just to watch you, eyes glued down on your pussy lewdly taking his cock over and over again. The sight makes him smile, as always.
"Shiit baby, you've got such a pretty fuckin' pussy," Choso praises as he tilts his head, jaw-dropping a bit at how you part your legs a bit more and arches your back further, "Fuck, princess-, fuuck... so fuckin' pretty," He stammers a bit while he continues to praise you, losing himself in the way you continuously bring yourself back on him.
His cock thrust in to match your movements, both of you fucking each other in sync. Oh how you drove Choso to the brink of insanity-- he was moving to spit down on his cock just before it disappeared inside you without a second thought, watching his saliva mix with the slick from your cunt and releasing another moan afterward.
Then Choso brings his hand to your ass again, "Baby, I complimented you, didn't I?"
You just nod stupidly, not thinking twice about what he's hinting toward, "Mmhhmm-," Choso snaps his hips forward again, pelvis clashing into you and making you whine, "F-Fuck."
Cocking his head to the side, Choso starts picking up his pace again, "What're you supposed t'say when you get compliments, huh?" He asks, tone rough with you.
His swollen cock rutted into your cervix, leading your legs to quake and your breath to escape you, "Choso-,"
"No pretty, c'monnn," He cuts off on purpose, "Where's those manners of yours, hm? Have I been too nice to you lately?" Voice dipping down into something a bit sweeter with you, your stomach churns before he's stretching you open all over again.
"Fuck... Fuck-," You gasp and your eyes squeeze shut before you're panting, "T-Thank you Cho..."
That earns a sexy smile from your husband, "There ya' go, suuch a good fuckin' girl f'me. Smart woman I've married, sayin' thank you after gettin' praised. Y'like it when I tell you how pretty y'are, hm?"
Blindly nodding into the bed, "Uhuh..." Is the most you can babble out.
And of course the sound makes Choso smile. He loves getting you to the point where you can hardly speak. Which is exactly why he’s smiling as he hums to you, "Speak up baby." Just as those words leave his lips, his cock is turning your cunt to mush, leaving you nothing more than a mindless hole beneath him.
Panting and clawing at the mattress, tears slip down your cheeks and your words come out jumbled and whiney, "Yes, Choso-, hhgnn… y-yes."
Choso puts on a pout to mock you before he scoffs and reaches a hand down to your hair, "C'mere, look at me,” He utters surprisingly softly before tugging you up by your hair so he can get a decent look at your face.
He forced your head to angle toward him and you swear he’s fucking you harder than he was before. Your pussy was sloshing all over his thick shaft, leaving where you were connected and slipping down along both of your thighs— you were a wet mess but Choso seemed to love you like that.
"Hi baby,” Your husband whispers, his eyes hanging low as he gazes into yours. Then he pouts at you again, “Aww, you cryin'? Feels that good, huh?" Choso teases. He watches the way your brows furrow and decides to go even further, bringing his free hand around your body and moving two fingers down to your clit.
Your body jumps within his hold once he starts rubbing over your clit, a strangled moan pouring out of your mouth, “C-Choso-, hahhh… fuck-,”
He just smirks, "Does it feel good when I touch you like this too?" He asks gently, as if he can’t see the clear effect his touch has on you.
You couldn’t even answer him verbally just yet— quiet mhm’s leaving your throat was the most you could manage. Your hand went over his and your nails were scratching against his arms, legs trying to draw together and your body nearly falling forward.
"Hm? I can't hear you princess,” Choso has the nerve to taunt you, “C’mon, jus' talk t'me. Tell me what you want me t'do," He instructs before pulling your body back against his.
Your mouth simply hangs open and his fingers won’t stop toying with your clit, his heavy cock resting inside you and leaving you full and lightheaded with pleasure, “…Mmh, k-keep-, nngh, g-go- oh, fuck, fuck… keep goin’ Cho… hahh, don’t stop, don’t fuckin’ stop…”
His cock aches inside you at the sound of your small whimpers in between words and your twisted-up face. Smiling, "Keep goin’, huh? You close?" Choso’s voice is sudden in your ear and you just moan into the air. “Gonna make a mess on me? Hahhh, fuck I guess I married a slut too, huh?”
You manage to meet his eyes and Choso swears he’s never seen you with an expression this lewd before. Well, he definitely has but, it still amazes him every time.
His brows push together and he groans, "I mean, look at that face-, shit,” Choso gasps. Just looking at you with a completely fucked out expression almost made him fold, “So fuckin' perfect. My perfect wife."
Your lower lip pokes out and you whine, “C-Cho…”
“Mhm, y’know you’re mine right?” He coos, leaning in to kiss the side of your neck. You huff out a sigh in response and he starts talking against your skin, “Yeahhh, my wife. My lil’ slut to ruin whenever the fuck I want, right?”
His voice grew rough all of a sudden and he started moving you around again, placing a hand to your back and forcing you back down to the bed. Then both of his hands were on your back, pressing into your arch before his hips picked up in pace.
The veins decorating his cock rubbing against your walls, cockhead digging deep inside you and making you gasp all over again.
Then there’s his voice, “Y’like that Mrs. Kamo?”
Oh you practically lose yourself right then and there— a slick mess of cum coating his dick due to one simple phrase. Choso scoffs loudly at the sight and the feeling of your pussy squeezing him like crazy.
“S-Shit, y’like your new last name, huh?” Choso huffs, sounding a bit more breathless than he did just moments ago.
“M-Mhmm, ah… mmgh-, fuck,” You bite your bottom lip for a second to get yourself together before uttering a sweet, “I love it Cho…”
He really starts to lose himself after that, mindlessly pounding into you with his jaw-dropping a bit. Choso doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life. You were his. His wife.
Fuck he was seconds from emptying himself inside of you— hell, maybe he should. Fuck you nice and full of his cum… It’s been a while since you’ve let him do so after all.
“Baby,” Choso grunts, heavy pants leaving his wet lips, “F-Fuck, m’gonna cum…” He suddenly heaves out.
So lost in the thought of cumming inside you, Choso hardly realizes how he’s drilling into you right now— the bed had begun to shake and your body was dipping down into the mattress, his cock twitching wildly inside you as it ached for release and heavy balls slapping against you with his every thrust.
The fabric below you is wet from your drool and you could hardly even whisper his name out, the sound leaving in a light squeak, “Choso.”
“Uhuh,” Choso responds mindlessly before he moans, “M-Mhmm, fuck… lemme cum inside you, princess.” He finally manages to blurt out his thoughts and it catches you off guard.
Followed by that is Choso moving a hand under you and rubbing his fingers over your clit yet again— tugging a cry from your throat, “S-Shit-, hahhh,” Your body was practically folding in on itself but his other hand remained firm on your back, keeping you in position, “Choso, fuck, Cho… mmmh-“
“Please?” He whines, “Fuck-, fuuck… baby… I need to,” Choso’s quick to beg you as he’s desperate for his release, “Needa’ stuff this pretty pussy full of me,” He babbles out before throwing his head back and groaning, “Fuuck, I wanna see it drippin’ outta’ you when I’m done. ‘Nd then stuff it right back in, make it nice and sloppy.”
His words had you cumming again before you finally agreed, nodding desperately against the bed, “Okay, mgh, okay, fuck,” You whisper.
His thrusts grow sharper and his body weighs into you a bit, “Okay, what?” Choso grunts lowly.
Just barely, you angle your head back as best you could to look at him and flash the smallest fucked out smile you could manage, “Cum inside me, Cho.”
His reaction is priceless, seed spilling into your pussy seconds after those words hit his ears— or maybe it was the way you’d looked at him, either way, he was fucking his cum into you within seconds.
Babbling as he ruts into you with mindless, almost animalistic-like thrusts, “Fuckin’ love you-, holy shit, I love you,” Is the only thing Choso could repeat as his cum spurted into you, the sound of slick growing louder and messier as he never once slowed the pace of his thrusts.
And he’s just thrusting in and out and in and out over and over again, watching that messy white ring form at his base and letting out a long groan at the sight.
“F-Fuck, say it back pretty, tell me you love me,” He huffs impatiently.
Sure, Choso knows you love him and he can clearly see how difficult speaking is for you but he didn’t care, he needed to hear it back from you anyway.
“Love you, Cho,” You whimper, “Mmmh… I love you s-so much.”
And then he’s fucking you through those very words, his body leaning over yours at this point and a moan of your name leaving his lips— followed by the faintest whimper.
When he finally calms himself, he’s pulling out with small whines escaping him. His face was flushed and he couldn’t stop panting.
Then he was moving a thumb to your sensitive folds, spreading your cunt apart to watch his cum trickle out and angling the tip of his cock against your hole just to watch his cum drip out of you and down onto his skin.
It was messy, nasty even, but didn’t care one bit. A smile was etched onto his face as he did so and you just laid there completely still for a while.
Choso was behind you toying with the mess below, enjoying himself a little too much, “Can’t get enough of this pussy, y’know…”
You scoff, “Choso…”
“I’m jus’ sayin',” He hums before tilting his head, smiling growing, “She’s so messy, I fuckin’ love her.”
You roll your eyes at the man, “Cho… please stop talkin’ about my pussy like it’s a p-person…”
“Shhh baby, I’m trying to listen t’her,” He says, completely disregarding your words as he continues to just rub his tip in between your folds. “Nasty fuckin’ girl. Y'Made such a big mess,” Choso coos. Then he shrugs and you feel him start pressing his tip into you, “S’okay though, you’ll make another one f’me, right?”
You send your husband a look, “Choso.”
“Shhh princess, don’t be rude,” He hums, smiling to himself as he doesn’t even attempt to look away from your cunt, “I haven’t even made my pretty girl squirt yet,” He comments before his smile widens, “Good thing I’ve got all day t’do so.”
Yeah, you definitely weren’t getting any more rest…
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@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️
thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k
“Spencer?”
Spencer groans into his pillow.
Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?”
“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete.
You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts.
“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.”
Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?”
“They’re really painful.”
Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks.
“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?”
“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”
“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.”
He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital.
“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.”
You shake your head again.
He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?”
“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.”
“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?”
Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m not having her.”
“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood.
“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”
“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.”
“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly.
“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.”
“It’s not real.”
“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?”
“That I can’t do it,” you say.
“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers.
“Yeah.”
He’s silent for a few seconds.
“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?”
You sniff.
“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.”
“Nine months.”
“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”
“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say.
He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.”
“You promise?”
“Of course I do.”
You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright.
“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”
“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips.
“I can’t wait to see her face.”
“Her little fingers.”
“Her nose, her eyes–”
“You said babies have their moms hands.”
He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.”
You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”
“You always do.”
“I’m so scared.”
“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.”
“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!”
“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.”
His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.”
He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.”
Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can.
Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.”
You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.”
“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?”
You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?”
He’s gonna need it.
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