#two headed announcer? ugly
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kudos to the visual development team on the phantom menace for managing to get every single alien to be consistently UGLY
#jar jar? ugly#boss nass? ugly#sebulba? ugly#watto? ugly#two headed announcer? ugly#ben quadinaros? so ugly i’m in love with him#YODA??? SOMEHOW THEY EVEN MADE HIM UGLY#it’s okay tpm is my twin we were released on the same day so i can roast it#one time my husband threw me a birthday party and decided to show the phantom menace and EVERYONE FELL ASLEEP LOL#honestly considering going to see it in the theater for the 25th anniversary re-release lol#the phantom menace
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other side of the moon - chapter two | formula one imagine
chapter two: a dutchman and an italian in london
pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli
y/n still has a decision to make, maybe a little visit can sway her vote
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PREVIOUS PART
the next morning y/n found herself sat on her couch with only brando’s loud purrs breaking the stifling silence. the letter from kimi sat on the coffee table collecting the condensation from y/n’s abandoned glass of orange juice as she continued to mull over the decision.
stuck in her mind, y/n stopped petting brando and stared off into the grey skies of west london. she told herself over and over again that decisions like this should be easy. simply, if she wanted to do it, she would’ve known the first time the offer was floated to her. but she didn’t have that immediate burst of excitement, instead she felt her heart stop and hairs on the back of her neck stand up. in that moment y/n had realised that a place that ignited that kind of reaction in her was not a place she needed to be - therapy had worked it seems.
but then again, if it was such a sure no, why wouldn’t it leave her mind? pictures of her in black alongside the young italian, back at the tracks she loved and around the people she admired flashed across her mind.
three polite knocks rung out across the apartment. y/n wasn’t expecting visitors and the front desk hadn’t notified her of any visits or deliveries. it was probably mrs. granger from down the hall forgetting which door was which again so she ignored it and went back to petting brando.
three more knocks, a little more urgent this time, came ringing through the rooms. brando’s ears perked up as he jumped down from the couch and trotted towards the front door.
“brando, come back here,”
y/n whisper-shouted towards the cat who neglected to heed her warnings. tiptoeing into the kitchen, y/n rifled through her draws for a weapon, settling on a ceramic rolling pin as her weapon of choice. as she crept towards the door y/n could hear some quiet bickering being dulled by the thick door and then a sudden pounding at it. brando meowed in surprise and bolted, likely for his preferred hiding place under y/n’s bed.
“y/n open the fucking door i know you’re in there!”
max verstappen. y/n sighed, lowering the rolling pin and opening the door. much to her surprise the dutchman wasn’t alone, peering over his shoulders was kimi antonelli himself.
“were you going to make me into a pie? move out of the way,” max said looking at the rolling pin and pushing past y/n into the apartment.
“yes, i guess you can come in max…”
max shucked off his shoes and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cracking open a red bull. kimi followed apprehensively, taking his shoes off slowly and placing them neatly by the door.
“see! it’s almost like you knew i was coming,” max said with a smug smile, “now where’s my little boy?”
almost on cue, brando strolled back into the kitchen and immediately started rubbing against max’s legs. the dutchman knelt down and scooped brando up in his arms, red bull long forgotten as he doted on the cat.
“now you’ve tormented my son, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”
y/n asked, arms crossed and with an unimpressed look on her face. looking over to kimi, the italian quickly ducked his head and fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. max continued cuddling brando, ignoring y/n’s questioning stare.
“i’m giving you two ten seconds to give me a good reason as to why you’ve come to disturb my peace today before i throw you out,” y/n announced. max cleared his throat and straightened his back, much to the chagrin of brando.
“right, okay,” max started, “you gotta take the job y/n. look at his little face,” max leant over and pinched kimi’s cheek, “look at him he’s so young and innocent. think of all the big ugly bullies like carlos and lando, you can’t leave him alone with them!”
“you came to guilt me into taking the job?”
“no!” kimi squeaked, “that was max’s idea. i wanted to come and tell you my reasons myself. i wrote you a letter but i don’t know if it ever made it to you.”
kimi’s eyes locked on the letter on the coffee table and looked back at y/n, eyes getting watery.
“oh. you did get it,” kimi started biting at his nails, “i’m sorry for coming and invading your privacy miss y/ln, we’ll leave you alone now.”
the italian turned to max, pleading with his eyes to go. max held up his hand, jostling brando again.
“we’re not going anywhere kimi, this has gone on far too long. y/n i get that you don’t really want to come back and for very valid reasons, but deep down i know you do. racing is everything to you and i know you changed your mind when you read kimi’s letter.”
kimi’s head shot up, looking at y/n with an unbridled and heartbreaking amount of hope. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, as if to stop himself from blurting out whatever he was thinking.
“that bullshit article about zak is no reason not to come back. he’s doing it on purpose to keep you from coming back. he’s a fraud, we all know he is. he’s terrified of you, that’s why he takes cheap shots at you. you don’t need to go anywhere near him in the paddock but don’t let him keep you away from what you love.”
y/n sighed, her head in her hands but max just grinned, sending a wink kimi’s way.
“you know i’m right y/n.”
“why can’t you be a mentor? you can look out for kimi?” y/n countered, her words sharp like an animal backed into a corner.
“and have to spend more time with george russell? i’m sorry kimi but there’s only one person worth suffering through that for”
kimi didn’t really seem too bothered by the dig at his new teammate, his eyes not leaving y/n’s, holding onto every word.
“so you’re saying that i should have to suffer through that instead?”
y/n smirked at kimi and took her cat from max’s arms. she sat back down on her couch and motioned for kimi to come and sit beside her. the italian sat cross legged, body angled towards y/n. to his surprise the first thing the brit did was place brando on his lap. kimi let out a soft yelp before brando started nudging his head against kimi’s chin. ”he likes you, that’s a good sign. my brando is an amazing judge of character so i trust he would pick out a good work partner for me”
kimi stopped petting brando so abruptly at y/n’s words that the black cat pawed at his chest to regain the italian’s attention.
“so you think we could work well together?” kimi asked in a small voice, making sure to continue stroking brando’s head this time.
“the annoying one over there won’t leave me alone if i don’t say yes,” y/n said, nodding towards max. the dutchman let out a ‘i heard that’ from the kitchen but left the other two to their discussion. “but he’s also right. i love racing and it hurts me very deeply that i can’t do it anymore. but i also see a lot of myself in you and your letter was so sincere it’s honestly changed my whole world view. i’ve been throwing myself a pity party for three years, enough is enough - and i can’t think of a better racer to be a mentor to.”
“really?”
the smile on kimi’s face was all-consuming, his eyes crinkling and a little giggle escaping as well.
“yes. although i am also impressed you came all the way from monaco to ask me.”
max plucked brando from kimi’s lap and crashed into the armchair, “oh he came all the way from italy actually”
y/n’s head whipped back to kimi who shrugged, whispering a small ‘worth it’ under his breath. max continued,
“he messaged me on instagram - my official account so vic had to text me about ‘this kid who wants to see if you’ll go to london with him’. then he drove all the way from milan to monaco and then we took air max here. he’s a very dedicated one you got there”
“you drove from milan to monaco? do you even have a road licence?”
kimi went to interject but y/n kept going, “it’s so early, when did you drive? you didn’t drive overnight did you?” the silence was answer enough.
“that is so not good for you kimi! right,” y/n stood up, dragging kimi with her, “i don’t have the spare room set up yet so you’ll have to deal with my bed. i have some of max’s clothes here that you can borrow but i order you to go take a nap and in a couple of hours i’ll take you both to lunch.”
kimi followed y/n like a little duckling to her room, hearing max in the background grumble about how he never gets offered a bed for a nap. y/n grabbed some clothes from her bottom draw and handed them to kimi.
“sorry they’re red bull branded, that loser doesn’t wear anything else, we just won’t tell toto will we?”
kimi let out another giggle, heading towards the en suite room to change. at the door he turned to y/n who was plumping the pillows and making the bed.
“thank you for taking a chance on me. i promise i’ll make it worth it.”
“don’t worry kimi. i think we’ll be great together. get a couple hours of sleep and we’ll get some food.”
y/n moved towards the door and gave kimi a soft smile as she closed it. the italian felt an even bigger smile break out on his face and allowed himself to let out a girlish squeal - he just had to text ollie about this.
back in the living room both max and brando had moved to the bigger couch and stared at y/n with knowing eyes.
“what?”
“nothing. just by my calculations it took you a whole two minutes to crumble and start the mother duck act.”
“so you don’t want me to come back?”
y/n poked, max sighed.
“you know that’s not what i mean. but it’s cute, it suits you.”
“shut up,” y/n said, fighting off a blush, “do you want to watch some tv while the little one sleeps?”
max yanked the remote from y/n’s hand and patted the seat. it was just like old times, nearly.
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maxverstappen1
liked by olliebearman, isackhadjar and 803,899 others
maxverstappen1: when in rome
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user1: you’re not fooling me buster
user2: the way this is defo vic being told to create a diversion
user3: sorry to break it to the gal she’s not doing her best
victoriaverstappen: keep me out of this one
landonorris: rome you say
maxverstappen1: that’s what the caption says does it not
maxverstappen1: can you not send me twitter links you know i do not have the abomination that is that app on my phone
user4: so you haven’t seen all the f1 yuri ??? you’re missing out
maxverstappen1: what is yuri?
maxverstappen1: i’ll google it one sec
landonorris: can we get back to my original point please?
maxverstappen1: manners lando!
landonorris: they butted into our conversation ???
landonorris: you’re not in rome so stop lying
maxverstappen1: you’re right 😟
maxverstappen1: i’m in monaco!
landonorris: YOU’RE IN LONDON WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE IN LONDON
maxverstappen1: nuh uh
maxverstappen1: i literally saw you on my morning run today lando
landonorris; don’t try and gaslight me bitch
landonorris: i saw the twitter account of your private jet it says you’re in the u.k. ?
maxverstappen1: that’s an invasion of privacy lando, i can’t believe you
landonorris: THEN STOP LYING
maxverstappen1: wow, big accusation buddy, you must be learning from george
user5: max will never not bring that up
user6: the way y/n and george used to be so close i wish i could’ve seen her reaction to that whole thing
user7: considering he never said anything in support of her after everything that happened… well i don’t think he would’ve gotten much support from her
user8: george russell and y/n y/ln takes a drag i haven’t heard those names together in a long time
user9: real ones know they were the OG brit ship
user10: yall just can’t let a woman exist can you
user11: lando up in the business sorry mclaren you can’t fool me
user12: i think if y/n does come back to f1 she should be allowed to shoot one man a day there
user13: i agree
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the trio are huddled around a cramped table way in the back of the quaint restaurant. both drivers are meant to be following their meal plans but have both gone for the hearty bowl of pasta recommended by y/n.
“i can’t believe my best friend is going to be back in the paddock, i love you my little italian man,” max sighs happily, ruffling kimi’s hair. “but also i don’t care if you’re going to be in the mercedes garage, i need a united front against george this season i am not letting the shit he pulled last season fly.”
kimi suddenly stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, looking at y/n alarmed.
“kimi, stop worrying, i’ve said yes, i’m not going to back out now,” y/n said, refilling the italian’s glass of water, “but i can’t guarantee i’ll be anything but just civil with george.”
“wait!” kimi yells, mouth full of pasta, “ollie and i have always wanted to know what happened between you two, if we’re allowed to know…”
y/n and max shared a look.
“i didn’t know me and george were such a hot topic with the rookies. i don’t know whether to be annoyed or not?”
“well it’s just me and ollie,” kimi slams his cutlery down and waves his hands, “one time i was wearing some of your merch after an f2 race and i was sat with toto when george came in and he took one look at my shirt and just glared at me. it was very weird but we’d never heard of anything about you two.”
“i mean we haven’t spoken in three years so i’d be impressed if there was still some gossip to go around,” y/n turned to max, “but if it’s anything like the last two races, it won’t take long to kick off again.”
max laughed to himself when y/n grabbed his hand.
“what did you say to him allegedly? that you’d put him on his head in the wall… well it sounds familiar…”
both max and kimi gasp, the younger leaning in, on the edge of his seat.
“oh boys, let me take you back to 2019…”
may 2019.
jimmyz smelt overwhelmingly of sweat. fancy sweat, but sweat nonetheless. y/n was stuck in the sea of bodies, clinging to the arm of mick schumacher and her watery vodka cranberry like her life depended on it. many hours earlier she stood proudly on the top step after winning the formula two feature race by an impressive ten seconds, her dancing partner standing second on the podium.
“i’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” mick tried to shout over the booming music. y/n waved her half-empty glass in his face and gave him a thumbs up. the german nodded and turned, starting his fight to get to the bar.
now alone, y/n let the atmosphere of the club and her earlier victory wash over her. yes, she was doing the typical white girl club dance but she’d earned that right on the track. y/n was lost in the music when mick finally returned, balancing his drink, two tequila shots, two limes and a packet of salt.
“i told you i didn’t need a drink, silly,” y/n yelled in his ear.
“the barman told me podium sitters had to have a tequila shot, jimmyz law?”
y/n took the shot glass from him and one of the limes. mick licked two lines on his hand and poured out the salt. she raised her eyebrow at him.
“what? we’ve done worse?”
she leaned forward and licked the salt from the german’s hand, threw back the shot and sucked on the lime. tequila shots still hadn’t gotten easier. mick beckoned her forward and whispered in her ear, “miss monaco winner, i fear we have an audience.”
y/n pulled back and looked around jimmyz. lewis hamilton was nearby, taking off his comically wet shirt for a captive audience after daniel had insisted on emptying another bottle of champagne on the brit. sebastian vettel had dragged an unwilling charles to jimmyz, who despite the thunder in his eyes, tried to dance along with his teammate. the trio of rookie brits were all off to the side, both lando and alex were trying their luck with the many girls alongside them in the vip booth but george stood alone. he was glaring, y/n thought it was at her but on a closer look, george was attempting to murder mick with his eyes.
“well doesn’t he look like a ray of sunshine,” comments mick, spinning her around again. “i should probably go check on him, that williams was as shit as ever today, he doesn’t take losing very well.”
y/n thinks she hears mick mutter a little ‘he should get used to it’ but elects to ignore it. she lets him spin her once more before making her way over to the booth.
“penny for your thoughts mr russell,” y/n asked, dragging him to sit down in the booth with her. george sits down but puts some healthy room between them and looks around, paranoid.
“leaving room for jesus, georgie? don’t worry, i won’t tell if you don’t?”
y/n laughs at her own joke but george looks less than impressed. y/n face falls as she takes a long sip.
“hey, i know today was tough but you don’t have to take it out on me i’m just trying to talk to you.”
george grumbles something under his breath. y/n looks at him, asking him to repeat himself. george looks out onto the dancefloor, not replying.
“you clearly have a problem, can you spit it out or i can just go back to mick.”
“i’m sure you’d love that”
“excuse me?”
george scoffs and goes to stand up. y/n gets up just as fast, a little unstable on the heels she thought she could handle for just one night out.
“i said i’m sure you’d love to go back out there and rub all over mr nepotism out there,” george shouted spitefully.
“i’m allowed to dance with my friends george. i don’t see what the problem is here.”
george wipes his face in frustration, “that’s the issue - you don’t think. what if people were allowed to film in here. a video of you like that, licking his hand like that - imagine what they would say?”
“i don’t have to imagine when you seem more than happy to say it yourself george.”
“i’m trying to be a good friend, clearly someone has to think of these things if you won’t”
y/n laughs bitterly, “my knight in shining armour, thank you for taking time out of your day to metaphorically slutshame me so i don’t have to.”
george groans and slams his drink down onto the table.
“mick is not just a friend, he is a competitor. there’s a difference. people will say things - that you’re sleeping with him to get an advantage, that you’re using him and his name to get a seat in formula one,” george said, exasperated.
“or is that just what you think?” y/n said, looking up at george with tears in her eyes.
“no! of course not, but people will say that y/n you have to be careful.”
y/n’s tears turned to hot, angry tears, the tequila shot pushing her to say the things she would usually push down.
“let them. if what you say is true, they’ll say it even if it’s not true. who cares? what do you expect me to do when i make it to formula one? take a vow of celibacy and not leave my hotel room every weekend?”
“i’m not saying i agree with it but this is how the sport is right now unfortunately. your image will matter so much more,” george said, trying to grab her hand but y/n yanked it away from him.
“george, people will call me a slut no matter what i do - i’m not going to let it stop me from celebrating when i want to, when i deserve to,” y/n hissed, she’d had quite enough of this conversation, this is not what a monaco winner does to celebrate.
“they won’t respect you if they see you like this,” george pointed to her dress, a short black number that showed off her legs but had a high neck, “they definitely won’t respect you if they see you dancing like that with mick or licking his hand.”
y/n’s head was hot, she needed george out of her sight or this could get ugly. “it sounds like i’ve already lost your respect, or did i even have it to begin with?” george protests, but y/n kept going.
“why do you really want to keep me at home? do you want to have me all to yourself, is that why mick is bothering you so much? or can you not stand the fact that i might beat you next year? a girl you deem a slut might be faster than you? might get a better seat than you faster? i might be a girl and you might think in some fucked up way that you have dibs on me because you’ve known me so long but let it be known, you try and pull anything with me on track and i’ll put you on your fucking head in the wall.”
y/n turned on her heel and stormed out of jimmyz.
present.
“oh shit.”
max whispered while kimi sat with his mouth open, struggling for words.
“we were young there,” y/n goes to explain, “but he ruined that monaco win for me. i think in a weird way he was trying to help but it came out wrong.”
the waitress had come to start clearing away the table and kimi was still gaping like a fish.
“that was so much worse than i was expecting. am i still allowed to tell ollie, i promise he won’t tell.”
y/n chuckled, “you can tell who you want, kimi, i don’t really care. it’s a fun tidbit, maybe if he pulls a fast one again with either of you it’ll be a cute ted’s notebook segment.”
“now that would make the sky prices worth it.”
GQ Man of the Year Red Carpet Live Updates
excerpt of red carpet interview between Y/N Y/LN and interviewer
interviewer: hi y/n! wow you look beautiful tonight!
y/n: thank you so much, you look amazing too!
interviewer: oh! you’ve got me blushing…
y/n: that’s my job!
interviewer: it’s amazing to see you, this is your first public appearance in over three years, we’ve missed you!
y/n: i know, i was nervous for tonight, i thought maybe i’d be on the red carpet and everyone would’ve forgotten who i am…
interviewer: we could never forget you
y/n: that’s too sweet
interviewer: especially when you’re turning looks like these
y/n: i know, three years of religiously wearing sweat pants, i knew i had to dress to impress
interviewer: don’t leave us for the sweat pants for that long i beg
y/n: i think you’ll see me out and about more often don’t worry
interviewer: is that a hint
y/n: it can be… as much as i would love to give you the exclusive darling, i have a contract i have to abide by
interviewer: very intriguing… well thank you for stopping and talking with us tonight
y/n: no worries! i’ll see you around
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the apartment was quiet when y/n returned from the GQ Man of the Year event, max and kimi had only been there for a couple hours the day before, but already the apartment seemed scarily empty. brando slinked up to y/n brushing against the expensive fabric, meowing for food as if y/n hadn’t gotten the notification for his automatic feeder.
“oh stop being so loud, baby,” y/n slumped down on the couch, kicking off her heels, “i might order some food and give you some scraps if you’re nice to me.”
the back of the dress was too complicated to tackle on an empty stomach so y/n resigned to eating cheap takeout in her designer dress. the chicken shop was embarrassingly frequent in her recent orders but she purchased her usual order anyway, not like she had a diet like the others anymore.
after just five minutes of scrolling through twitter, seeing her fans having a meltdown did bring a smile to her face, the bell went. her usual chicken shop was good, but not that good. however, in a good mood, y/n swung the door open with a smile.
“oh. you’re not my chicken shop order.’
“no. i’m not. but you are a mercedes mentor now?” lewis hamilton said with a tenacious smile.
“i’m kimi’s mentor,” y/n reminded him quickly, opening the door enough for him to enter.
“quite a get up you’re in,” lewis said, “quite a way to annouce your return.”
y/n poured a glass of water for him, “technically sky announced my return. you sad you missed me at mercedes?”
lewis smirked and moved around the kitchen counter. he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “what could you teach me?”. the air was thick with tension and the room was suddenly a lot hotter, y/n didn’t know where to look or how to reply. as she stood there, just inches away from lewis with her mouth open, ready to reply, the bell went again.
“that’ll be the front desk with my food,” y/n choked out, moving back towards the door and taking in a deep breath. she took the food from the concierge and slips him some money as a thank you.
y/n placed the order on the counter and flicked her eyes back over to lewis. “i’d say we could share, but this is definitely not vegan. was there a reason you came? i didn’t even think you had my address?”
the smirk again. “i can’t just want to come and see you? in his excitement max was very loose-lipped, but i can’t say i’m too angry about it. i would’ve preferred if you had trusted me with it from the start…”
“no one had my address,” y/n replied.
“max did.”
“max is different”
“how so?”
“he just is, okay? i didn’t think anyone would want anything to do with me after the crash. i just wanted to wallow in peace”
“please don’t assume how i feel about you again,” lewis finished his water and moved towards the door, “i’ll leave you to your food, don’t be a stranger in the paddock.”
lewis picked up her hand and gave it a quick kiss and left as fast as he came.
what the fuck. the door shut and y/n was floored. what just happened?
whatever it was, it would have to wait until after she had eaten to be processed. while plating her food, y/n picked up her phone and opened her text thread with max.
i’m serious dude, stop giving people my address.
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fin.
note: oh wow so this series blew up - i'm serious i got such an influx in followers i'm so glad you guys are enjoying it! some new players have entered but you'll just have to keep guessing! one warning, i do go back to work thursday so updates will slow but one of my new years resolutions was to write more anyway!
taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#max verstappen#kimi antonelli#lewis hamilton#george russell#astonmartinii
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Drown With Me
Ningning x Minji x Male Reader
word count: 10K
"I was so happy, you know?"
Her words, her tone, her expression – they’re etched in your memory...
—
Firstly: let's rewind to the moment that started it all. Or rather, the fight that started it all. But just a part of it, because the whole argument was a bit too... dramatic.
—
"You fucking asshole! I can't believe you're making me feel guilty about this trip!" Minji screams, tears streaming down her face as she throws clothes into her suitcase. Her small hands are shaking with rage.
“I just can't understand you! When I keep my shit to myself, you complain that I'm not being truthful in the relationship, and when I decide to tell you what's bothering me, you freak out. You know this promotion means everything to me, Minji, and now you're acting like I'm abandoning you," you snap back, watching her frantically pack from the doorway of your shared bedroom.
"Abandoning me? No, you're just being a selfish prick who can't be happy for his girlfriend's success!" She slams the suitcase shut, mascara running down her cheeks. "I've supported every single one of your career moves, but the one time I get a huge opportunity, you make it all about you!"
"That's not what I'm saying and you know it! I just wish you'd discussed it with me first instead of just announcing you're fucking off to Singapore for a month!"
"Discuss it? With you?" She laughs bitterly. "Why? So you could try to talk me out of it? Make me feel even more guilty?"
"Minji, come on..." You try to reach for her but she jerks away.
"Don't touch me. I can't even look at you right now." She wipes her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. "I have to go or I'll miss my flight. Don't bother calling."
You watch helplessly as she drags her suitcase out of the bedroom, the wheels thumping against the hardwood floors. The front door slams shut moments later, leaving you alone in the sudden silence of your apartment.
"Fuck!" You punch the wall, immediately regretting it as pain shoots through your knuckles.
—
She drops it on you out of nowhere, right in the middle of a forkful of pasta, like it’s just casual dinner conversation. “So I’ll be in Singapore for a month. My trip is scheduled for next week.” she says, barely looking up as she keeps eating. No heads-up, no “Hey, I was thinking…” Just lays it out there, cold as fact.
You should be happy for her. Hell, you should feel damn proud. Minji, your Minji, jetting off for a huge business trip, about to prove to everyone what you already know - that she’s amazing at what she does. But instead, there’s this weird little twist of annoyance clawing its way up from somewhere deep. It’s like you’re happy, sure, but there’s this raw, stupid irritation bubbling under it all that you didn’t see coming.
She never mentioned it before. Never talked about weighing options, asked you what you thought, nothing. Just tosses it at you like a done deal, already set in stone. And yeah, it stings a little, like she didn’t even think you’d want a say. It’s petty, it’s stupid, but it’s there, scratching around at the back of your head, whispering: am I an afterthought now?
You catch yourself, feeling like the world’s most selfish boyfriend because you know she deserves this. She’s worked herself to the bone, fought for this chance to prove herself, to show she’s worth every bit of it. Of course you want her to go, to kill it, to come back with stories of how she made the whole damn boardroom take notice. But somewhere inside, there’s still that ugly little itch, wondering - couldn’t she have acted like this was a decision for the two of you? Just… a little?
The guilt starts swirling in after that, heavier than before, sinking low and deep. What kind of boyfriend gets hung up on something so small when his girlfriend’s about to take this huge step? You want to push it down, make it disappear, go back to that exact second before she said anything, and just feel proud. Proud without all this stupid baggage.
But the feeling’s there, thick and stuck, wedged between the pride and the frustration, and there’s no easy way to get it out. So you sit there in silence, forcing yourself to nod, to smile at the right parts, while she lights up, spilling plans and ideas and everything she’s about to do. You’re trying to just let it all go, to be the guy she deserves - a guy who’s genuinely happy for her without strings, without ego. But it clings to you anyway, like some shadow you didn’t invite, and all you can do is pray it doesn’t twist into something even messier down the line.
But we know exactly how it ended.
—
Three days pass in misery, all you have is takeout containers, beer bottles, and mindless TV shows. You've texted Minji multiple times but only gotten short, cold responses. The apartment feels too big, too empty without her presence.
You're sprawled on the couch, starting your fourth beer of the evening, when there's a knock at the door. For a moment, your heart leaps thinking it might be Minji, but you know she's still in Singapore.
"Coming!" you call out, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor and pulling it on as you stumble to the door. When you open it, you find yourself face to face with Ningning, Minji's best friend.
"Wow, you look like shit," she says bluntly, pushing past you into the apartment.
Ningning has always been stunning in an almost intimidating way. Today she's wearing a tight black crop top that shows off her toned stomach and high-waisted jeans that hug every curve. Her long black hair falls in waves past her shoulders, and her dark eyes seem to see right through you.
"Nice to see you too," you mutter, closing the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Minji asked me to check on you." Ningning wrinkles her nose at the mess of bottles and takeout containers. "Good thing she did. This is pathetic."
You run a hand through your unwashed hair. "I'm fine. You can tell her I'm fine."
"Really? Because you look and smell like you haven't showered in days." She picks up an empty beer bottle, examining it. "And it seems like you're trying to drink yourself into oblivion."
"It's none of your business," you snap, snatching the bottle from her hand.
Ningning's red lips curve into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Actually, it is my business. Minji's my best friend, and she's worried about you. Even though you're being a total dick about her trip."
"You don't know anything about it."
"I know enough." She steps closer, and you catch another whiff of her perfume. "I know you made her cry before the biggest opportunity of her career. Dick move."
The guilt and alcohol make your head spin. "I didn't mean to... I just... fuck." You sink onto the couch, head in your hands.
You feel the couch dip as Ningning sits beside you, close enough that her thigh brushes against yours. "Hey," she says, her voice softer now. "I get it. Long distance sucks. But it's only a month."
"A month feels like forever right now," you admit. The beer is definitely hitting you now, making your tongue loose. "The apartment feels wrong without her here."
"Then maybe you need a distraction." Ningning's hand lands on your thigh, and your whole body tenses. "Something to take your mind off things."
You turn to look at her, meaning to tell her to back off, but the words die in your throat. She's closer than you expected, those dark eyes boring into yours. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and you can't help tracking the movement.
"Ning..." you start, but you're not sure if it's a warning or something else.
"I always wondered what it was like to be in Minji's shoes," she murmurs, her hand sliding higher on your thigh. "Maybe now's my chance to find out.”
"We can't..." But your protest sounds weak even to your own ears. The combination of alcohol, loneliness, and Ningning's intoxicating presence is making it hard to think straight.
"Why not?" Her other hand comes up to cup your face, turning you toward her. "What Minji doesn't know won't hurt her."
Before you can respond, she closes the distance between you, pressing her lips against yours. For a moment, you're too shocked to react. Then your body takes over, responding to the first intimate contact you've had in days.
Her lips are soft but demanding, nothing like Minji's gentle kisses. When her tongue pushes into your mouth, you taste mint and something sweet. Your hands move of their own accord, gripping her waist and pulling her closer.
Ning swings one leg over your lap, straddling you. The position brings her core right against your growing erection, and she grinds down deliberately, drawing a groan from your throat.
"That's it," she purrs against your lips. "Stop thinking so much."
Her hands slip under your t-shirt, nails scraping lightly against your abs. You know you should stop this, push her away, but your body is on fire with need. When she rocks against you again, your hips buck up instinctively.
"Fuck, you're already so hard for me," Ningning breathes, pulling back to look at you with heavy-lidded eyes. "Let me take care of you."
She grinds down again, more forcefully this time, and your head falls back against the couch. "This is wrong," you manage to say, even as your hands slide down to grip her ass.
"Then why does it feel so right?" She attacks your neck with lips and teeth, sucking hard enough to leave marks. The pain-pleasure sends jolts straight to your cock.
Your hands slip under her crop top, finding bare skin. Her body is different from Minji's - more toned, with smaller breasts but wider hips. The comparison makes guilt twist in your stomach, but it's quickly drowned out by lust when Ningning bites down on your earlobe.
She pulls back just long enough to yank your t-shirt over your head, then immediately latches onto one of your nipples. The sensation makes you buck up against her again, your cock straining against your boxers.
"Someone's eager," she teases, rolling her hips in slow circles. "Want to see how wet you've made me?"
Before you can answer, she grabs one of your hands and guides it between her legs. Even through her jeans, you can feel the heat radiating from her core. When you press your fingers against her, she moans and grinds down onto your hand.
"See?" She captures your lips in another burning kiss. "I've wanted this for so long. Wanted to show you what you've been missing."
The words should be a bucket of cold water, reminding you of Minji, but instead they just fuel the fire burning through your veins. You squeeze her ass with your free hand, pulling her harder against you as you devour her mouth.
Ningning breaks the kiss to stand up suddenly, leaving you bereft of contact. But before you can protest, she's hooking her fingers into the waistband of her jeans, slowly shimming them down her legs.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of her black lace thong, barely covering anything. Her legs seem to go on forever, and when she turns around to step out of her jeans, you get a perfect view of her round ass.
"Like what you see?" she asks over her shoulder, giving her ass a little shake.
"Fuck," is all you can manage, adjusting yourself in your pants.
She turns back to face you, crossing her arms to grab the hem of her crop top. In one fluid motion, she pulls it over her head, revealing a matching black lace bra. Her breasts strain against the material, nipples clearly visible through the delicate fabric.
"Your turn," she purrs, hooking her fingers in your pants. "Up."
You lift your hips automatically, letting her pull your pants and boxers down and off. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking pre-cum. Ningning licks her lips at the sight, wrapping one hand around your shaft.
"Mmm, bigger than I expected," she says, giving you a few slow strokes. "No wonder Minji always looks so satisfied."
The mention of your girlfriend's name sends another pang of guilt through you, but it's quickly forgotten when Ningning drops to her knees between your legs. She maintains eye contact as she leans forward, running her tongue from base to tip.
"Fuck!" you gasp, hands gripping the couch cushions.
"Just wait," she smirks, before taking you into her mouth.
The wet heat of her mouth is incredible. She takes you deep right away, her throat relaxing to accommodate your length. Unlike Minji's hesitant, gentle oral skills, Ningning sucks cock like she was born for it.
Her head bobs up and down, tongue swirling around your shaft. One hand works what doesn't fit in her mouth while the other massages your balls. The sight of her red lips stretched around your cock, mascara starting to smear from her watering eyes, is almost enough to make you cum right then.
You thread your fingers through her long hair, not guiding her movements but just holding on. She hums around your length, sending vibrations through your whole body. When she pulls back to focus on your tip, sucking hard while her hand works your shaft, you have to grit your teeth to hold back.
"Shit, Ning, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up," you warn her, trying to pull her off.
But she just takes you deeper, looking up at you through her lashes as she deepthroats you. The sight of your cock disappearing into her throat, combined with the intense suction, pushes you over the edge.
You cum with a shout, pumping rope after rope of hot cum down her throat. Ningning swallows it all, continuing to suck until you're completely spent and oversensitive.
When she finally pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva and cum connect her lips to your cock. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking incredibly pleased with herself.
"Tasty," she says, licking her lips. "But we're not done yet."
Before you can recover, she's standing up and reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts bounce free, smaller than Minji's but perfectly shaped with pink nipples standing at attention.
She hooks her thumbs in her thong, slowly sliding it down her legs. Your cock twitches at the sight of her bare pussy, already glistening with arousal. She's completely shaved, her pink lips puffy and inviting.
"See how wet sucking your cock got me?" She runs a finger through her folds, gathering her juices before bringing it to her mouth to suck clean. "I bet you want to taste me."
You nod dumbly, reaching for her, but she pushes you back against the couch. "Uh uh, just sit back and enjoy."
She climbs back onto your lap, but this time facing away from you. The position gives you a perfect view as she reaches between her legs to guide your semi-hard cock to her entrance.
"Ready for round two?" she asks, rubbing your tip against her wet slit.
Before you can answer, she sinks down onto you in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sensation - she's incredibly tight, her walls gripping you like a vice as she takes you to the hilt.
"Fuck, you're so big," she moans, grinding her hips in small circles. "Stretching me so good."
Your hands find her hips as she starts to move, lifting herself up before dropping back down. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy, her ass bouncing against your thighs, has you fully hard again in no time.
Ningning sets a brutal pace, riding you hard and fast. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with her increasingly loud moans. She reaches back to brace herself on your shoulders, changing the angle so your cock hits deeper.
"Yes, yes, fuck me!" she cries out, her pussy clenching around you. "Harder!"
You plant your feet firmly on the ground and start thrusting up to meet her bounces. The new force has her screaming, her nails digging into your shoulders as she takes everything you give her.
One of your hands slides around to rub her clit, and she nearly convulses at the touch. Her walls flutter around your cock as she gets closer to the edge.
"Gonna cum," she pants, movements becoming erratic. "Make me cum on your big cock!"
You increase the pressure on her clit, rubbing tight circles as you continue to thrust up into her. When she finally breaks, her whole body goes rigid, pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she screams your name.
The sight and sensation of her cumming triggers your own orgasm. You grip her hips hard enough to bruise as you empty yourself inside her, filling her pussy with hot cum.
Ningning collapses back against your chest, both of you breathing heavily. Your softening cock is still inside her, and you can feel your combined fluids leaking out around it.
"Holy fuck," she says after a moment, turning her head to kiss you lazily. "That was even better than I imagined."
Reality starts to creep back in as the post-orgasm haze fades.
You just cheated on Minji.
With her best friend.
On the couch where you and Minji usually cuddle and watch movies.
"We shouldn't have done that," you say, but make no move to push her off.
"But we did." Ningning stands up, cum running down her thighs. The sight makes your spent cock twitch. "And we're going to do it again."
She gathers her clothes and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your guilt and confusion.
What the fuck have you done?
—
The next few days are a sickening mix of shame, guilt and lust, oh, and more incredible sex than you've ever had. Ningning comes over almost every day. You fuck on every surface of the apartment - the kitchen counter, the shower, the dining room table.
She's insatiable, always wanting more, always pushing your boundaries. She makes you do things you've never done before, things you never even considered with Minji.
After that sixth time, with both of you tangled up, tipsy and reckless, she watches as you crumble, phone in hand after hearing Minji’s voice. Tears slip down your face as the reality hits hard. You and Minji talk, stumbling through apologies and whispered promises, mending the torn edges between you. By the end, you’re clear: Ningning won’t be coming around again.
When you tell Ningning, she just smirks, as if it were a joke that only she understands. "You’re drunk," she says. "You'll change your mind. We're the same, you and me." Her words dig in, and Ningning knows that you have no way of proving her wrong. So you just grit your teeth and ask her to leave.
She does. But that smile lingers as she goes, certain she’s right.
Oh, and she is.
—
You're sitting on your couch scrolling mindlessly through your phone when you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you freeze at the sight before you. Ningning stands there in a tight white button-up shirt tied above her belly button, red tie, an obscenely short plaid skirt that barely covers her ass, white knee socks, and her black hair in pigtails. Your cock instantly stirs as memories of buying this exact outfit for Minji flood back.
"Like what you see?" Ningning purrs, doing a little twirl that makes her skirt flare up. You catch a glimpse of tiny white panties underneath.
"Ning, how in the world did you get here dressed like that?" You try to keep your voice steady but fail miserably. "We can't keep doing this."
She pushes past you into the apartment, her perfume - sweet and intoxicating - filling your nostrils. "Why not? Minji's gone on her work trip, isn't she? The one she didn't even discuss with you first?"
Your jaw clenches at the reminder. Ningning knows exactly which buttons to push. She saunters over to your couch, deliberately swaying her hips. When she bends over to adjust her sock, her skirt rides up to reveal the full curve of her ass.
"Remember how you bought this exact outfit for Minji?" she continues, straightening up and facing you. "How she said roleplaying made her uncomfortable?" Ningning runs her hands down her body. "Yeah, she tells me everything and, well, I'm here to fulfill your fantasy."
"This is wrong," you protest weakly, but your eyes are glued to her body. "You're her best friend..."
"And you're her boyfriend who she takes for granted," Ningning counters, stepping closer. "When's the last time she really fucked you properly? Made you lose control?"
Your breathing grows heavy as she closes the distance between you. Her small hand traces down your chest, over your stomach, to cup your hardening cock through your pants.
"Mmm, someone's excited," she giggles. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is fighting it."
"Ning..." you groan as she squeezes gently.
"Want to be my teacher?" she whispers, looking up at you through thick lashes. "I've been such a naughty student..."
Your resistance crumbles as she drops to her knees, quickly undoing your belt and zipper. Your cock springs free, already rock hard. Ningning licks her lips.
“Your dick is too good to be unusable for a whole month," she purrs, wrapping her small hand around your shaft. "Minji was very irresponsible this time."
The mention of your girlfriend sends wave of guilt through you, but it's quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as Ningning's hot mouth engulfs your cock. She takes you deep, deeper than Minji ever has, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis.
"Fuck!" you grunt, hands instinctively grabbing her pigtails. She moans around your length, the vibrations making your knees weak.
Ningning pulls back with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "Use my mouth," she begs. "Fuck my throat like you've always wanted to fuck hers."
You know you should stop this. Push her away. Call Minji and confess everything. But instead, you grip Ningning's pigtails tightly, using them like handlebars as you thrust deep into her willing mouth. Her throat bulges visibly each time you push in, the outline of your thick shaft visible through her delicate neck.
"Fuck, you really know how to take it," you groan, watching her glossy lips stretch around your girth. Unlike Minji, who always struggles past the halfway point, Ningning swallows your entire length without hesitation.
She looks up at you with watery eyes, mascara already starting to run down her cheeks. The sight of her in the schoolgirl outfit, on her knees, throat stuffed with your cock, is almost too much to handle.
"You like that, don't you?" you growl, pulling her pigtails to force her deeper. "Like being a better cocksucker than your best friend?"
She moans around your shaft, the vibrations making your cock throb. Drool runs down her chin as she gags slightly, but she doesn't try to pull back. Instead, she grabs your thighs and pulls herself even closer.
"Such a hungry little slut," you praise, starting to thrust into her mouth. "Taking my cock deeper than Minji ever could..."
Ningning's eyes roll back as you fuck her face, her throat relaxing to accommodate your full length. Every time you pull back, a string of thick saliva connects her lips to your cock.
"Is this what you imagined?" you ask, increasing your pace. "All those times Minji complained about not being able to deepthroat me... were you thinking about showing her how it's done?"
She tries to nod with your cock still buried in her throat, making herself gag. The sound only encourages you to thrust harder, using her pigtails to control the depth and speed.
Your balls slap against her chin with each stroke now, adding to the obscene symphony of gagging and slurping sounds. Her makeup is completely ruined, black streaks running down her face as tears flow freely.
"Such a good little throat slut," you groan, holding her head still as you fuck into her mouth. "Taking every inch like you were made for it..."
She reaches up to massage your balls while you use her throat, encouraging you to go harder, faster, deeper. The contrast with Minji's careful, hesitant blowjobs is stark - Ningning truly loves having her face fucked.
"Bet you practiced for this," you continue, watching her throat bulge. "Bet you've been using toys for months, just waiting for this moment..."
A particularly hard thrust makes her gag violently, but still she doesn't pull away. If anything, she pushes forward, burying her nose in your pubic hair as she swallows around your length.
The sight of her taking your cock so eagerly, combined with the tight squeeze of her throat, brings you dangerously close to cumming. But you're not done using her mouth yet.
You pull out completely, letting her catch her breath. Strings of thick saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock as she gasps for air.
"Please," she begs, voice hoarse from the throat fucking. "Use my mouth... wreck my throat... show me what Minji's too scared to take..."
You slam back in without warning, making her eyes go wide as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold her there, feeling her throat contract around your shaft.
"Fuck, you're such a good cocksucker," you groan, slowly withdrawing before thrusting deep again. "Taking my cock like a proper slut..."
She moans around your length, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge. Her hands grip your thighs tighter, encouraging you to use her mouth however you want.
Your pace becomes brutal as you chase your orgasm, fucking her face with abandon. The wet sounds of your cock plunging into her throat fill the room, along with her muffled moans and gagging.
"Gonna cum," you warn, pulling her pigtails harder. "Gonna flood your throat with my load..."
She looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your cum. The sight of her - face a mess, throat bulging, schoolgirl outfit disheveled - pushes you over the edge.
With a final thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt in her throat and explode. She swallows eagerly around your pulsing cock, drinking down every drop of cum as you pump it directly into her throat.
Only when the last spurt has been swallowed do you slowly withdraw, watching as she gasps for air. Her lips are swollen and red, face covered in smeared makeup and saliva.
She couldn't be more beautiful.
"Thank you," she rasps, voice wrecked from the throat fucking. "For showing me what a real face fucking feels like..."
“Damn... That was amazing... You were amazing.”
"All for you, baby," she says hoarsely, standing up. "But now it's my turn to have some fun." She unbuttons her shirt slowly, revealing a lacy white bra underneath.
Ningning sits on the couch, looking at you, sliding her hands along her thighs, waiting for you to touch her.
You approach Ningning, your fingers hover at her entrance, teasing through her slick folds. She's already dripping wet, her pussy lips swollen and flushed pink. You can smell her arousal.
"Mmm, stop being such a tease," Ningning whimpers, spreading her legs wider. Her tiny white panties are soaked through, a dark wet patch visible in the center. "I need those thick fingers inside me..."
You trace light circles around her clit through the thin fabric, making her squirm. "Patience," you murmur. "Good girls wait for what they want."
"But I'm not a good girl," she purrs, grinding against your hand. "I'm the kind of girl who seduces her best friend's boyfriend while wearing a schoolgirl outfit..."
The reminder of what you're doing - who you're touching - sends a fresh wave of guilt through you. But it's mixed with an undeniable surge of arousal that makes your head spin.
You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her smooth legs torturously slow. She kicks them off impatiently, spreading herself open with both hands to give you a perfect view of her pussy.
"Look how wet I am for you," she breathes, running a finger through her folds. "I've been dripping since I put this outfit on, thinking about how I was going to make you lose control..."
You replace her finger with yours, sliding through her wetness. Her clit is hard and swollen, begging for attention. You circle it slowly, barely touching, making her hips buck seeking more pressure.
"Fuck, your fingers feel amazing," she moans. "Minji told me they would..."
Your cock throbs at her words. "What else did she tell you?"
"Mmm, everything," Ningning says with a wicked smile. "All those late night girl talks, sharing secrets about our sex lives... She loves bragging about how good you are with your hands..."
You push one finger inside her slowly, groaning at how tight she is. Her inner walls grip you like a vice as you start pumping in and out.
"She told me how you can make her cum just from fingering her," Ningning continues, rolling her hips to meet your thrusts. "How sometimes you have to hold her down because it gets so intense..."
Adding a second finger, you stretch her tight hole while curling them to search for that special spot.
When you find it, her whole body jerks.
"FUCK!" she cries out, grabbing your wrist. "Right there! Harder!"
You massage that spot relentlessly, watching her face contort in pleasure. Her small tits bounce with each thrust of your hand, nipples hard and visible through her thin bra.
"Know what else she told me?" Ningning pants between moans. "That sometimes- oh god! Sometimes you make her squirt... but she gets embarrassed... tries to hold it back..."
You add a third finger, stretching her even more. Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud while your fingers work that spot inside her.
"I'm not shy like her," she continues, voice getting higher as pleasure builds. "I want to soak your whole fucking hand... want to show you what you're missing with her..."
Her pussy gets wetter with each thrust, juices running down your wrist and dripping onto the floor. The obscene squelching sounds fill the room as you finger-fuck her mercilessly.
"She also told me about your schoolgirl fantasy," Ningning moans. "How you bought her this exact outfit... but she was too vanilla to wear it... said roleplaying made her uncomfortable..."
Your fingers pump faster at her words, thumb working her clit harder. She's so wet now, practically gushing around your fingers.
"But look at me," she purrs. "Wearing exactly what you wanted... letting you do exactly what you've been dreaming about... being exactly the dirty little slut you need..."
Her words drive you wild. You curl your fingers more aggressively, massaging her g-spot while your thumb rubs quick circles on her clit. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.
"That's it," she encourages. "Make me cum like you make her cum... show me why she brags about those fingers..."
You can feel her pussy starting to contract around your fingers. Ningning pulls the bra off in one go, breaking the strap. She's close, so close. You lean down and take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking hard while your hand works between her legs.
"Oh fuck!" she screams. "Right there, don't stop, gonna cum gonna cum gonna-"
Her whole body goes rigid as the orgasm hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers like a vice, gushing fluid all over your hand. But you don't stop - you keep going, working her through it as she writhes and moans.
"Don't stop don't stop don't stop!" she chants, riding your hand desperately. More fluid gushes out with each thrust, soaking your arm and the couch beneath her.
Just when you think she's done, another wave hits. Her thighs clamp around your wrist as she squirts again, spraying her release all over you. The sight of your girlfriend's best friend coming undone on your fingers is the hottest thing you've ever seen.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" she screams, grinding against your hand as a third orgasm builds immediately after the second. Her whole body is shaking now, covered in a light sheen of sweat that makes her skin glow.
You keep going, relentless in your assault on her g-spot while your thumb continues its torture on her oversensitive clit. She's babbling incoherently now, lost in pleasure.
"Too much!" she finally gasps, trying to close her legs. But you hold them open with your free hand, not letting her escape the stimulation.
"I thought you weren't shy?" you tease, curling your fingers harder inside her. "I thought you could take what Minji couldn't?"
Those words seem to trigger something in her. Her eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through her, this one even more intense than the others. She squirts so hard it sprays up your chest, soaking your shirt.
Only when she begs you to stop, you slowly withdraw your soaked fingers. She grabs your wrist before you can pull away completely, bringing your fingers to her mouth.
Looking directly into your eyes, she sucks them clean one by one, moaning at her own taste. Her tongue swirls around each digit, making sure to get every drop.
"Mmm," she purrs after releasing them with a obscene pop. "I taste good on your fingers,” she pants, pulling you up, “but I bet I taste even better on your cock..."
These words are enough to make you sit on the couch, Ningning jumps on your cock with desperate abandon, she adjusts herself on your lap and you feel the warm and delicious grip of her tight pussy. Her schoolgirl skirt fans out around her hips as she rides you, the pleated fabric barely hiding where your bodies join.
"Fuck, you're so big, I bet you need to be careful not to hurt Minji's pussy with that thick cock," she moans, grinding her hips in circles.
And it's true.
Each time you’re with Minji, that balance between careful tenderness and locked-up heat tears at you. And somehow, the comparison between the careful sex you have with Minji and the raw sex you're having now makes your cock throb harder inside her tight hole. Ningning notices, clenching her pussy walls around you.
"Does it turn you on?" she purrs, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. "Knowing you're stretching her best friend's pussy? Filling me up while she's working?"
You grab her hips harder, helping her bounce faster on your shaft. Her small tits bounce with each movement, nipples hard and visible through her thin white shirt. The whole schoolgirl outfit is disheveled now - tie loose, shirt unbuttoned, skirt hiked up around her waist.
"God, you feel so good," she pants, throwing her head back. "So much better than I dreamed about all those nights touching myself..."
Your cock twitches at her words. "You touched yourself thinking about me?"
"Mmhmm," she moans, grinding down harder. "Every time Minji bragged about your cock, I'd go home and finger myself imagining it was you... imagining you choosing me instead of her..."
She starts bouncing faster, her tight pussy taking your full length with each stroke. The wet sounds of her arousal fill the room, along with the slap of skin on skin.
"But the real thing is so much better," she continues, voice getting higher with pleasure. "Your thick cock stretching me open... making me take every inch..."
You can feel yourself getting close, the familiar pressure building in your balls. But you try to hold back, not ready for this to end.
"I can feel you throbbing," she teases, clenching her walls around you again. "Are you going to cum for me? Going to fill up my tight little pussy?"
The thought of cumming inside her makes your cock pulse dangerously. You know this shouldn't be happening, but her pussy feels too good, gripping you like it never wants to let go.
"Do it," she encourages, bouncing even faster. "Cum inside me. Give me what you give her..."
Your hands tighten on her hips as you get closer to the edge. She's riding you like her life depends on it now, taking your cock so deep you can feel her cervix with each stroke.
"One time when Minji was drunk and loose, she told me that you love creampie," she suddenly whispers, and your cock throbs hard at the admission. "Minji mentioned you have a breeding kink... that you love the risk..."
You try to lift her off your cock but she pushes back down hard, taking you to the hilt. "Don't you dare pull out," she demands. "I want to feel you flood my fertile pussy..."
The pressure in your balls is almost unbearable now. Every bounce of her tight pussy brings you closer to the edge. Your cock swells even larger inside her as your orgasm approaches.
"That's it," she moans, feeling you grow. "Give me your cum. Breed me like you want to breed her..."
With a groan, you explode inside her. Your cock pulses violently, shooting rope after rope of hot cum deep in her unprotected pussy. She keeps riding through your orgasm, milking every drop from your throbbing shaft.
"Fuck yes!" she cries out, grinding down hard as you fill her. "I can feel you pumping me full... marking me as yours..."
Only when the last spurt of cum coats her walls does she slow her movements. She stays seated on your cock, clenching her pussy to keep your seed inside her.
"Mmm, perfect," she purrs, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. "Now I'm going to keep your cum warm in my pussy all day... let it soak into my fertile womb..."
You can feel the tension in the air, a twisted mix of possessive satisfaction and something darker, something that feels dangerously close to obsession.
You give a low chuckle, tightening your hold on her hips. "About that," you murmur, watching her expression shift as the words sink in. "You do know I had a vasectomy, right?"
For a moment, she just blinks at you, her lips parting as the realization hits. "What?" Her voice is sharp, barely above a whisper, her brows knitting together in visible confusion.
"Yeah. Minji was the one who asked for it," you continue, watching every flicker of emotion on her face. "She said she wouldn’t let me come inside her unless I did.”
“B-but I thought that… The breeding kink…”
“Yeah, I like it, but you know Minji would never go for it. Well, maybe in the future... But at least I can cum inside her now, so that's a win.”
She bites her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Eyes narrowing, and, for a second, there is an almost obsessive tone in her voice. “So, you’re telling me… this whole time, all of this,” she gestures to herself, still seated on you, your cum mixed with her juices already leaking down her sweaty thighs, “has been for nothing?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Were you actually trying to get pregnant?"
Ningning’s cheeks flush, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Pfft, no way. I'm not crazy! That was just dirty talk to turn you on. I’m not even in my fertile period,” she says, her voice forcedly nonchalant.
You arch a brow, skeptical. Her gaze wavers for a split second, and a strange feeling knots in your gut. For the first time, you notice that hint of danger in her gaze, something deeper and darker… or maybe it's just the image of your adultery reflected in her eyes.
—
Three weeks into Minji's trip, you're lying in bed with Ningning, both covered in sweat from another intense session. She's tracing patterns on your chest with her fingernail, occasionally leaning up to kiss your neck.
"I don't want this to end when she comes back," she says suddenly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you.
"Ning..." you start, but she cuts you off with a kiss.
"Don't give me that bullshit about how wrong this is," she says against your lips. "We both know this is more than just fucking."
"What do you want me to do?" you ask, running your hand down her naked back.
"Break up with her." Ningning's voice is firm, no room for argument. "End it as soon as she gets back."
"I can't do that to her," you protest weakly. "I… I'm still in love with her. My feelings for Minji haven't changed… She doesn't deserve-"
"What she doesn't deserve is a boyfriend who's fucking her best friend behind her back!" Ningning cuts in. "Either you tell her, or I will."
The threat hangs in the air between you. You know she means it - Ningning has never been one to make empty threats.
"You'd really do that to her?" you ask, though you already know the answer.
"I'd be doing her a favor." Ningning sits up, the sheet falling away to reveal her naked body. "Better she finds out now than after you've wasted more of her time."
Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's Minji's mother, and your blood runs cold when you see the message.
"Minji's in the hospital," you read aloud, sitting up quickly. "She collapsed during a meeting. They think it might be her heart condition acting up again."
Ningning's expression doesn't change, but her eyes harden slightly. "Is she going to be okay?"
"I don't know. Her mom says they're running tests." You're already getting out of bed, looking for your clothes. "I need to call her."
"Of course you do," Ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Run back to her like always."
You ignore her as you pull on your pants and grab your phone. Minji answers on the second ring, her voice weak but happy to hear from you.
"Hey baby," she says, and your guilt threatens to choke you. "Don't worry, I'm okay. Just pushed myself too hard."
"What happened? What are the doctors saying?" You pace the room as you talk, very aware of Ningning watching you from the bed.
"They want to keep me here for observation for a few days." She sounds tired. "But I should still be able to come home on schedule next week."
"That's good," you say, though your stomach churns at the thought. "Just focus on getting better, okay?"
"I miss you so much," she says softly. "I can't wait to come home and just be with you. Maybe we can finally start talking about getting married like we always planned."
The words hit you like a physical blow. Behind you, you hear Ningning scoff quietly.
"Yeah, maybe," you manage to say. "Get some rest, okay? I love you."
Those beautiful words seem to have a sarcastic connotation coming from you now, reality seems to make sense again, your mind being taken over by reason, so logical and obvious, and with it, all you can think is: I ruined everything. After you hang up, you turn to find Ningning already dressed, gathering her things.
"Well, this should be interesting," she says with a cruel smile. "What are you going to do now? Marry her while fucking me on the side?"
"This has to stop," you say, running a hand through your hair. "She needs me right now."
"No, what she needs is the truth." Ningning steps close to you, running a hand down your chest. "When she comes back you will tell her everything or I will. And trust me, my version won't be kind."
She leaves you standing there, torn between desire and guilt, love and lust.
—
The next few days are torture. Minji calls or texts constantly from the hospital, full of love and plans for the future. Meanwhile, Ningning sends you increasingly explicit photos and videos, reminding you of what you'll be missing. And when you ignore everything she sends you: that's when the threats come back. Roughly speaking, it's like she has a double-edged sword, cutting you with both lust and guilt.
But you try to stay away from Ningning, to focus on being there for Minji, but it's like she has a sixth sense for when you're at your weakest…
The knock at your door comes just after midnight. You're lying in bed, unable to sleep, thoughts of Minji in that hospital bed haunting you. When you open the door, Ningning stands there in a trench coat, red lipstick perfectly applied, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Miss me?" she purrs, letting the coat fall open. Black lace barely covers her tits, the lingerie leaving nothing to imagination. Your cock instantly hardens despite your best efforts to resist.
"You need to fucking leave," you growl, but your eyes are glued to her body. She knows she has you.
"Make me," she challenges, stepping closer. Her perfume fills your nostrils - sweet and spicy, nothing like Minji's soft floral scent. "We both know you want this."
"I hate you," you snarl, grabbing her arm and yanking her inside. The door slams behind her.
"Show me how much," she taunts, shrugging off the coat completely. The lingerie is even more revealing than you thought - just scraps of black lace held together by thin straps. Her nipples peek through the sheer fabric.
You grab her throat, pushing her against the wall. "You're a fucking terrible friend. Minji trusts you."
"And yet here you are, getting hard just looking at me." Her hand cups your erection through your sweatpants. "Face it - you like that I'm bad. That I'm nothing like sweet, innocent Minji."
"Shut up," you growl, crushing your mouth to hers. She tastes like cherry lipstick and sin. Her tongue battles yours as she grinds against your hardness.
You bite her lower lip hard enough to hurt. She moans into your mouth, fingernails raking down your chest. Unlike Minji's gentle touches, Ningning wants to mark you, to leave evidence of what you've done.
"Fucking slut," you mutter, ripping the flimsy bra. Her tits spill free, nipples hard and begging to be bitten. You grab them roughly, pinching and twisting until she gasps.
"Yes, hurt me," she pants. "Do all the dirty things she won't let you do."
The reminder of Minji makes you even angrier. You spin Ningning around, shoving her face-first against the wall. One hand tangles in her long dark hair, yanking her head back.
"Is this what you wanted? To be my dirty little whore?" Your free hand comes down hard on her ass, the smack echoing through the room.
"Fuck yes!" She pushes back against you. "Spank me harder. Leave marks."
You rain blows on her ass until it's bright red, each strike punctuated by her moans of pleasure-pain. Your cock throbs painfully, straining against your sweats.
"Look at you, getting wet from being spanked." You rip her panties down, fingers finding her dripping pussy. "Such a filthy slut."
"Only for you," she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Minji told me how gentle you are with her. But that's not what you really want, is it?"
"Don't talk about her." You thrust two fingers into her roughly, making her cry out. Her pussy clenches around them, cream coating your hand.
"Why not? She tells me everything about your sex life." Ningning rocks back on your fingers. "How you always ask to cum on her face but she won't let you. How you hold back because you're afraid of being too rough."
Rage and lust war inside you. You withdraw your fingers and shove them in her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore."
She sucks them clean eagerly, moaning around them. When you pull them out, spit trails from her lips.
"On your knees," you order, shoving her down. She goes willingly, looking up at you with those dark, knowing eyes.
You free your cock, slapping it against her cheek. Pre-cum smears across her skin. "This what you came for?"
"Mmm, I love choking on your cock." She licks the head teasingly. "She says you're so careful with her mouth, afraid of going too deep."
You grab her hair with both hands, ramming your cock down her throat. She takes it like a pro, nose pressed against your pelvis, throat contracting around you.
"Fuck, you really are a whore." You hold her there until she gags, tears streaming down her face. When you finally let her breathe, she gasps but immediately opens wide for more.
"Use my throat," she rasps. "Make me choke on it."
You fuck her face brutally, hips snapping forward as you force your cock deeper with each thrust. Spit and pre-cum drip down her chin, mascara running from her tears. She maintains eye contact the whole time, those dark eyes challenging you to go harder.
When you pull out, she's a mess - lipstick smeared, face covered in her own saliva. Your cock twitches at the sight.
"Get on the couch," you command. "Hands and knees."
She crawls there slowly while taking off her high heels, making sure you get a good view of her red ass and dripping pussy. Once in position, she looks back at you with a smirk.
"Going to fuck me like you wish you could fuck her?"
You answer with action, lining up and slamming into her in one brutal thrust. She screams, back arching as you bottom out.
"I wanna hear you scream," you growl, setting a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room.
"Yes, yes! Wreck my pussy!" She pushes back to meet each thrust, tits swaying beneath her.
You grab her hair again, pulling her head back as you pound into her. Your other hand comes down hard on her ass, leaving fresh handprints.
"Such a fucking whore, seducing your best friend's man." You slam in deeper, making her whole body jerk. "Bet you planned this from the start."
"Maybe," she pants. "Or maybe- fuck! - Maybe I just knew you needed someone who could handle all this."
You respond by fucking her harder, angling your hips to hit that spot that makes her walls clench around you. Her moans get higher, more desperate.
"That's it, make me cum on your cock!" She reaches between her legs to rub her clit. "Show me why Minji keeps you around!"
The mention of Minji's name sends fresh anger through you. You pull out suddenly, flipping her onto her back. Before she can protest, you're back inside her, pinning her wrists above her head.
"I said don't fucking talk about her." You bite her neck hard enough to leave marks, sucking bruises into her skin.
"Make me stop," she challenges, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you deeper.
You release her wrists to grab her throat instead, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. Her pussy gets even wetter, cream coating your cock as you rail her.
"Is this what you wanted? To be choked while I fuck you senseless?" Your thumb presses against her windpipe.
She can only nod, eyes rolling back as her first orgasm hits. Her whole body convulses, pussy spasming around your length.
You don't slow down, fucking her through her climax and beyond. She claws at your back, leaving long red scratches that sting deliciously.
"More," she demands when she can speak again. "I want it all."
You pull out, cock glistening with her juices. "Get that ass in the air."
She quickly flips over, face down and ass up, reaching back to spread her cheeks. Her asshole winks at you invitingly.
"Another thing she won't let you do," Ningning taunts. "But I love it up the ass."
You gather her wetness on your fingers, working them into her tight hole. She moans wantonly as you stretch her.
"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, adding more fingers. "Taking it in all your holes like a proper whore."
When she's ready, you line up your cock with her asshole and push in slowly. The tight heat makes you groan despite yourself.
"Fuck yes, stretch my ass!" She pushes back, taking more of you. "Fill me up!"
You grab her hips, digging your fingers in hard enough to bruise as you bottom out. Her ass grips your cock like a vice.
"I'm gonna sink my cock in that tight little ass." You start thrusting, each movement making her moan.
"God yes! Harder!" She reaches back to spread herself wider. "Use me like the whore I am!"
You pick up speed, watching your cock disappear into her ass over and over. The sight is intoxicating - this perfect little slut taking everything you give her.
Her hand moves between her legs again, fingering her dripping pussy as you fuck her ass. The double stimulation has her trembling, approaching another orgasm.
"That's it, play with that wet cunt while I wreck your ass." You spank her again, leaving more red marks. "Show me what a filthy slut you are."
"So close," she pants. "Fuck, your cock feels so good in my ass!"
You reach around to pinch her nipples, twisting them roughly. That pushes her over the edge - she screams as she cums, whole body shaking.
Her ass clenches rhythmically around your cock, nearly making you lose control. But you're not done with her yet.
You pull out of her ass, flipping her over again. "Open that pretty mouth, whore. Time to taste your ass."
She eagerly takes your cock between her lips, moaning at her own taste. You fuck her face again, slower this time, letting her tongue work over every inch.
"Such a good little cocksucker," you grunt. "Born to take dick in all your holes."
She hums in agreement, reaching up to fondle your balls. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through you.
You pull out before you get too close. "On your back again. Want to see those tits bounce while I fuck you."
She spreads her legs wide as you mount her again, sliding back into her pussy. It's even tighter now after her orgasms, gripping you with a new creamy softness.
"Fuck me raw," she demands. "Make me feel it for days."
You grab her legs, pushing them back until her knees are by her ears. The new angle lets you go even deeper, your balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.
"Gonna fill this pussy up."
"No," she pants. "Want you to cum on my face. Paint me with your load like you've always wanted."
The thought pushes you closer to the edge. You've fantasized about this countless times - covering a pretty face with your cum.
Your thrusts become erratic as you near your peak. Ningning notices and grins up at you.
"Do it," she urges. "Show me what Minji's missing."
You pull out just in time, straddling her chest as she opens her mouth wide. Your cock erupts, shooting thick ropes of cum across her face.
She moans as you paint her, cum landing on her cheeks, lips, forehead. Some gets in her hair, more drips down her chin.
"Fuck yes," she purrs, licking what she can reach. "Mark your territory."
You keep jerking off to failure while admiring your beautiful work of art. Her face is completely covered in your cum, makeup ruined, lips swollen from sucking your cock.
"Fuck yeah," she growls, slurping up every fucking drop she can get her tongue on. “You came so much all over my face, baby."
"Look at you, you filthy little cumdumpster," you grunt, using your cock to spread the cum all over her face like a paintbrush. "Fucking beautiful.”
She looks up at you, a wicked grin on her cum-covered face. "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?" she taunts, licking the remnants of your orgasm off her lips.
You keep spreading your cum, avoiding her gaze, the guilt gnawing at you. She grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. "Tell me I'm better than her," she demands, pulling your cock back to her mouth, licking the sensitive head.
"Don't fucking say that," you mutter, trying to pull away, but she holds firm.
"Tell me!" she insists, taking your cock deeper into her mouth, sucking hard.
You finally yank your cock away, getting off her abruptly. "No," you say firmly. There's a heavy silence as you pull on your pants and walk to the apartment door to open it and grab the coat she left in the hallway. "Get out!” you exclaim, throwing the coat at her.
“May I clean myself first, sir?”
When she comes out of the bathroom, you're a little calmer.
In fact, you're fucking tired.
“Why are you doing this to her?” you ask, the frustration spilling over, sharp and bitter. “She’s your best friend. Doesn’t any of this mean a damn thing to you?”
Ningning slowly sits on the couch to put on her high heels, taking her time. "Best friend?” she scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Minji’s no friend of mine. Hasn’t been for a long time. You think she even cares?”
You frown, trying to make sense of this mess. “You two were inseparable-”
“Were,” she interrupts, voice cold and dismissive. “Until she swooped in and took you right out of my hands.” Her eyes narrow, and she lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you even remember how we met? How I was the one who introduced you to her?”
You do remember, vaguely, those early nights working late at the bar, Ningning hanging around, laughing too loud, leaning a little too close. And then she’d brought Minji along one night, saying something about “my best friend, you’ll love her.” And you had, instantly.
She watches realization dawn across your face, her smirk deepening. “Yeah, that’s right. I brought her to meet you. She saw me with you and knew exactly what she was doing.” Her voice drops, bitter. “She knew I liked you. And then she went and did what she always does - takes what she wants without a damn thought about anyone else.”
You shake your head, but doubt nags at the edges of your mind. “She couldn’t have known-”
“She knew,” Ningning hisses, stepping toward you, her gaze fierce. “She fucking knew! But that’s Minji, isn’t it? Perfect little Minji, the one who can do no wrong. Sweet, innocent, perfect, while the rest of us scrape for her leftovers.” Her laugh is harsh, cold. “But guess what? She doesn’t get everything. Not anymore.”
The bitterness in her voice grates against you, hitting nerves you didn’t know you had. “You could’ve just told her,” you say quietly. “All of this - the stab in the back, the lies - none of it would’ve happened if you’d just been honest.”
She rolls her eyes. “You really think she’d care? Even if I had told her, she wouldn’t have given a fuck. She’s never cared about me. I was just someone to make her look better, someone to stand in her shadow.” Her voice drips with scorn. “She’s never really seen me.”
“So this is what, revenge?” you demand, voice hard. “Just because she didn’t fall over herself to make you feel special?”
She gives you a slow, dark smile, filled with satisfaction and anger. “Call it whatever you want. But you’re here, aren’t you? And every time you touch me, she loses a little more of that shiny perfect life of hers.”
"You're just a spiteful bitch. You don't deserve Minji's friendship.”
She steps closer, running a hand down your chest, voice low, almost a whisper. “And what does that make you? Huh? Besides a lying, cheating asshole? Minji’s so delicate, so breakable… shouldn’t you be taking care of her instead of - well - fucking me?”
You push Ningning away abruptly and point to the door. “Get out of my sight!”
When the door clicks shut, you glance back at the couch - a disaster of tangled sheets, a pillow on the floor, the lingering scent of sweat and regret. That couch… the same one where Minji used to kneel between your legs, her soft hands trailing up your thighs, her sweet, shy giggles filling the air whenever you teased her.
—
You stand anxiously at the airport arrivals gate, your heart pounding as you wait to see Minji again after a month apart. Your hands are sweaty and trembling - not just from excitement to reunite with your girlfriend, but from the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on you. The past few weeks have been a living hell of secrets, lies and desperate late-night encounters that you know will destroy everything if they come to light.
Finally you spot her emerging through the sliding doors, pulling her pink carry-on suitcase. Despite being sick during her trip, she looks beautiful as ever in her oversized cream sweater and blue jeans. Her face lights up when she sees you and she runs forward, throwing herself into your arms.
"I missed you so much!" she exclaims, pressing her face into your chest. You hold her tight, breathing in her familiar sweet scent, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts of all the times you've betrayed her trust.
"I missed you too, baby," you say, and it's not a lie. You've ached for her every single day she's been gone.
Which makes what you've done even more fucked up.
On the drive home, Minji chatters excitedly about her trip, though you can tell she's tired from the long flight. She mentions feeling weak and dizzy a few times while traveling, which worried her given her heart condition. You listen and nod, but your mind keeps drifting to Ningning's latest threatening text:
"Time's running out..."
—
At home you're helping Minji with her suitcase, trying to act normal while your heart pounds with a mix of desire and crushing guilt. Her delicate frame moves gracefully as she organizes her clothes, and you can't help but stare at her perfect ass in those tight jeans. The same ass you've missed so fucking much this past month.
"I really missed you, baby," she says softly, turning to face you with those innocent eyes that make your stomach twist with shame. Before you can respond, she's in your arms, her soft lips pressing urgently against yours. The familiar taste of her cherry lip gloss floods your senses.
Her tongue slides into your mouth as her hands grip your shoulders. You can feel her whole body trembling with need against yours. "I need you so bad," she whispers between kisses. "It's been too long."
You pull back slightly, studying her face. "Are you sure you're feeling better? Your heart..."
"I'm fine now, completely recovered," she assures you, already working on your shirt buttons. "Please, I want you so much." Her voice is breathy with desire.
Your hands shake slightly as you help her undress. Each inch of exposed skin is like a dagger of guilt mixed with raw hunger. You can't stop thinking about how Ningning's skin felt under these same hands just days ago. But Minji's body is different - softer, more delicate, familiar like coming home.
Her breasts spill free as you unhook her bra, dark nipples already hard and begging for attention. You lean down to take one in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive peak as she gasps. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer.
"Fuck, I missed your mouth on me," she moans. The pure love and trust in her voice makes you want to cry.
You worship her breasts with lips and tongue, trying to pour all your remorse and devotion into each kiss. Her skin tastes sweet and clean, so different from Ningning's musky perfume that still haunts your memories. You trail kisses down her flat stomach, dropping to your knees.
Her panties are already soaked through when you peel them down her legs. The familiar scent of her arousal makes your cock throb painfully. You spread her thighs wider, drinking in the sight of her pretty pink pussy that belongs only to you. Or at least, it should have.
"Please," she whimpers, hips rolling forward seeking your mouth. You don't make her wait, diving in to lap at her swollen clit. She cries out, legs trembling as you devour her like a starving man. And you are starving - for her forgiveness, her love, her pleasure.
Your tongue traces patterns over her sensitive flesh as she writhes above you. You slip two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them to stroke that spot that drives her wild. Her walls clench around your fingers as you pump them in and out.
"Oh god, right there," she pants. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
You double your efforts, sucking her clit while fucking her with your fingers. Her thighs begin to shake as she gets close. You can feel her pussy pulsing, drawing your fingers deeper.
"I'm gonna cum," she warns, grinding against your face. You hum encouragement against her clit and she explodes, crying out your name as she floods your mouth with her sweet juices. You lap up every drop, helping her ride out the intense orgasm.
When her tremors finally subside, you stand and kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She moans into your mouth, hands fumbling with your belt buckle.
"I need you inside me," she breathes. "Need to feel you stretching me open."
You finish stripping as she pulls you toward the bed. Her small hand wraps around your rock-hard cock, stroking firmly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.
"You're so big," she purrs. "I forgot how perfectly you fill me up."
The praise makes you throb in her grip, even as shame burns in your chest. You remember Ningning saying almost the same words as she rode you. Push the memory away. Focus on Minji, only Minji.
You lay her back on the bed, settling between her spread thighs. Her pussy is still dripping from her orgasm as you line yourself up. You start to push inside but she stops you.
"Wait," she says softly. "I need to tell you something first."
Your heart nearly stops.
Does she know?
Did Ningning confess?
"I'm so sorry about our fight," she continues. "I should have talked to you about the trip earlier. I don't want you to think you're being left out. Can you forgive me?"
Relief floods through you, followed immediately by fresh waves of guilt. "Baby, no. I'm the one who should apologize. I was a complete asshole. I love you so much and I never should have..."
She silences you with a kiss. "It's okay. We're okay. Just make love to me now."
You push inside her slowly, savoring every inch as her tight walls stretch to accommodate you. She's so fucking tight after a month apart. Her nails dig into your shoulders as you bottom out.
"Fuck," she gasps. "So full. Move, baby, please move."
You start a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sliding deep again. Each thrust draws soft moans from her perfect lips. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.
"I love you," you tell her between kisses. "Love you so much." The words taste like ashes in your mouth but you mean them with every fiber of your being.
"Love you too," she pants. "Harder baby, fuck me harder."
You pick up the pace, driving into her with more force. The wet sounds of your coupling fill the room along with her increasingly loud cries. Her pussy squeezes you a little tighter, so hot and perfect around your aching cock.
You shift angles slightly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes her see stars. Her back arches off the bed as she claws at your shoulders.
"Right there, oh fuck right there!" she practically screams. "Don't stop, gonna cum again!"
You maintain the angle, pounding into her g-spot relentlessly. Her whole body starts to shake as another orgasm builds. You can feel her pussy fluttering around you, trying to milk your cock.
"Cum for me baby," you growl. "Let me feel that tight little pussy cum on my cock."
Your words push her over the edge. She throws her head back with a cry of pure ecstasy as her walls clamp down hard. You fuck her through it, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible.
When she finally comes down, you slow your thrusts but don't stop. You're nowhere near finished worshipping every inch of her perfect body.
You pull out and flip her onto her hands and knees, admiring the curve of her spine and the perfect globes of her ass. Her pussy is dripping down her thighs, swollen and pink from your attention.
You slide back inside in one smooth thrust, both of you moaning at the deeper penetration this position allows. Your hands grip her slim hips as you start moving again, watching your cock disappear into her eager hole over and over.
"You feel so good," you groan. "So fucking perfect wrapped around my cock."
She pushes back to meet your thrusts, taking you impossibly deeper. "Love your cock," she gasps. "Fill me up so good."
You lean forward to kiss and bite at her shoulders, one hand sliding around to play with her clit. She's so sensitive after two orgasms that she jerks at the contact.
"Too much?" you ask, easing the pressure.
"No, don't stop," she begs. "Want to cum again. Please make me cum again."
You rub tight circles on her swollen clit as you continue fucking her from behind. Her moans get higher and more desperate with each passing moment. You can feel her starting to tighten around you again.
"That's it baby," you encourage. "One more time for me. Show me how good I make you feel."
Her arms give out and she faceplants into the pillow, muffling her screams as a third orgasm rips through her. You have to grip her hips tight to keep her from collapsing completely.
When she stops shaking, you carefully pull out and turn her over. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way - hair a mess, lips swollen from kissing, skin flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat.
You kiss her deeply as you slide back inside her oversensitive pussy. She whimpers into your mouth but wraps her legs around you, pulling you closer.
"I want to try something," she says shyly when you break the kiss. "Something we haven't done before."
Your cock twitches inside her as you wait for her to continue. She bites her lip nervously.
"When you cum... I want you to cum on my face."
The words hit you like a physical blow. Images of Ningning's face covered in your cum flash unbidden through your mind. The way she'd smirked and said "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?"
You try to keep your voice steady. "Are you sure? You've never wanted that before."
She nods. "I've been thinking about it while I was away. I want to try new things with you. Want to make all your fantasies come true."
Guilt threatens to choke you but your cock throbs traitorously at her words. You kiss her hard, trying to convey everything you can't say.
You start moving inside her again, harder and faster now. She meets you thrust for thrust, getting into it despite her previous orgasms. Her hands roam over your back and shoulders as she kisses and nibbles at your neck.
"You're so beautiful," you tell her between ragged breaths. "So perfect. I don't deserve you."
She doesn't know how true those words are. Doesn't know the depth of your betrayal. But you pour all your love and remorse into every thrust, every kiss, every touch.
You can feel your own orgasm building as her tight pussy squeezes around you. The familiar pressure builds at the base of your spine. Your movements become more erratic.
"Getting close," you warn her. "Where do you want me?"
"On my face," she reminds you breathlessly. "Want to feel your hot cum all over my face."
You pull out with a groan and move up her body. She looks up at you with such trust and love as you stroke your cock above her beautiful face. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips in anticipation.
The sight pushes you over the edge. You cry out as the first rope of cum lands across her cheek. More follows, painting her lips, nose, and forehead with your seed. She keeps her eyes closed but her mouth opens slightly to catch some on her tongue.
When you're finished, you use your still-hard cock to spread the cum around her face, just like you did with Ningning. The comparison makes you sick but you can't help it. Minji looks even more beautiful like this - face covered in your cum, lips curved in a satisfied smile.
"Was that okay?" she asks softly, opening her eyes to look up at you.
You lean down to kiss her cum-covered lips. "You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect."
She giggles and reaches for tissues to clean up, but you stop her. "Let me," you say, grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You tenderly clean her face, pressing gentle kisses to each spot after you wipe it clean.
"I actually really liked that," she admits as you finish. "The way you marked me as yours..."
If only she knew. If only you deserved her trust and devotion. But you push the guilt down and pull her into your arms, holding her close as if you could protect her from your own betrayal.
"I love you so much," you whisper into her hair. "More than anything."
She snuggles closer with a contented sigh. "I love you too. I'm so glad to be home with you."
You stroke her back as her breathing evens out, exhausted from travel and multiple orgasms. Soon she's fast asleep in your arms, completely trusting and vulnerable.
You lie awake holding her, torn between overwhelming love and crushing guilt. The memory of Ningning won't leave you alone - the way she seduced you, how easily you gave in to temptation. You don't deserve Minji's pure love and trust.
You press a final kiss to her forehead before closing your eyes, praying that someday you'll feel worthy of her love again. For now, you just hold her close and try to forget everything except how perfectly she fits in your arms.
—
Suddenly there's a knock at the front door.
You wake up feeling a little dazed, but soon your brain reminds you of the hell you got yourself into. Your blood automatically runs cold - you'd know that aggressive knock anywhere.
"Ignore it," Minji whispers sleepily.
"It might be important," you say reluctantly, getting out of bed. You quickly pull on your pants while Minji wraps herself in a sheet.
Sure enough, when you open the door Ningning is standing there with a predatory smile. She's wearing a tight black dress that shows off her curves, her long dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
"Oh, did I interrupt something?" she asks innocently, pushing past you into the apartment. Her eyes rake over your bare chest and the obvious bulge in your pants from morning wood.
"Ningningie!" Minji calls happily from the bedroom. "Give me a minute to get dressed!"
While Minji is changing, Ningning corners you in the kitchen. She presses her body against yours, her hand sliding down to squeeze your still-hard cock through your pants.
"Miss me?" she purrs. "I know you've been thinking about me. About all the nasty things we do together."
You grab her wrist and push her away. "Stop it. This has to end."
She laughs. "You know what you have to do if you want it to end. Break up with her, or I'll tell her everything."
Before you can respond, Minji emerges from the bedroom fully dressed. Ningning immediately steps away, her demeanor changing completely as she hugs her best friend.
The three of you sit in the living room while Minji tells Ningning about her trip. You can barely focus on the conversation, too aware of Ningning's predatory gaze and the way she keeps "accidentally" brushing against you.
When she finally leaves hours later, you feel physically ill. You know you're trapped - there's no way out of this that doesn't end in devastating heartbreak for Minji.
That night, after Minji falls asleep, your phone buzzes with a text from Ningning: "Come over. Now."
You shouldn't fucking go. Every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you should stay in bed with Minji's warm body curled against yours. But the threatening texts from Ningning make your blood boil - if you don't show up, she'll spill everything to Minji. That manipulative bitch has you by the balls and she knows it.
"Fuck," you mutter, carefully extracting yourself from Minji's embrace. Your girlfriend shifts slightly but doesn't wake. The guilt churns in your stomach as you slip on clothes and shoes.
The drive to Ningning's apartment is torture. Your hands burn from being pressed against the steering wheel, jaw clenched so hard it aches. When you knock on her door, she answers wearing nothing but a sheer red lingerie set, her nipples are clearly visible through the see-through fabric, and the tiny thong barely covers her pussy.
"You fucking bitch," you snarl, shoving past her into the apartment. "This is the last goddamn time. I'm done with your manipulative bullshit."
Ningning's red lips curve into a wicked smile. "Mmm, I love when you're angry," she purrs, pressing her nearly-naked body against yours. "You can take it all out on me tonight, daddy. I want you to punish me for being such a bad girl."
She produces a pair of metal handcuffs, dangling them from one finger. "I'll let you restrain me. Do whatever you want to me. Hurt me, use me, make me pay." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I know you want to."
Your cock betrays you, hardening in your pants despite your rage - or maybe because of it. Ningning notices and grinds against your erection. "See? Your body knows what it wants, even if you pretend otherwise."
With a growl, you grab her wrists and snap the cuffs around them, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. She gasps but her eyes sparkle with excitement as you roughly shove her toward the bedroom.
"On the bed. Now." Your voice is cold and commanding. She obeys eagerly, lying back with her cuffed hands above her head. The red lingerie contrasts beautifully with her pale skin, but you're too angry to fully appreciate the view.
You climb onto the bed, straddling her waist. Your hands wrap around her throat - not squeezing, just resting there as a threat. "I should fucking choke you for what you're doing to my relationship."
"Do it," she moans, arching up against you. "Make me suffer."
Instead, you release her throat and roughly grab her tits through the sheer bra. Your fingers find her hardened nipples and pinch them harshly, making her cry out in pain and pleasure.
"Is this what you wanted, you manipulative slut?" You twist her nipples cruelly. "To force me here so I can hurt you?"
"Yes! Fuck yes!" She writhes beneath you. "I love when you're rough with me. So different from how gentle you have to be with precious little Minji-"
"Don't you fucking dare say her name," you growl, slapping her face. The crack of skin on skin is loud in the quiet room. A red handprint blooms on her cheek.
Ningning moans obscenely. "Sorry daddy. I forgot you don't like to be reminded of your girlfriend while you're fucking your side piece."
You rip her flimsy bra off, exposing her full breasts. Your mouth descends on one nipple, biting down hard enough to make her squeal. Your other hand roughly kneads her other breast, pinching and pulling at the sensitive flesh.
"Fuck yes, hurt me daddy!" she cries out. "Mark up these tits that you love to stare at when Minji isn't looking!"
Another harsh slap across her face silences her. "I told you not to say her fucking name." You grab her jaw, forcing her to look at you. "You're nothing compared to her. Just a worthless whore I'm using to get my rocks off."
The words seem to excite her more. She spreads her legs wide, the tiny thong doing nothing to hide how wet she is. "Then use me, daddy. Use this worthless whore's holes however you want."
Your hand travels down her body, roughly groping and squeezing. When you reach between her legs, you find her pussy absolutely soaked through the thin fabric. You yank the thong aside and thrust two fingers deep inside her without warning.
"Fucking slut," you growl as you finger-fuck her roughly. "Already this wet just from being manhandled. You're pathetic."
"Yes! Yes I am!" She rocks her hips, trying to take your fingers deeper. "I'm a pathetic slut who gets off on stealing other women's men. Punish me for it!"
You curl your fingers to hit her g-spot while your thumb circles her clit. But you keep the pressure light, teasing rather than satisfying. She whines in frustration, trying to grind against your hand.
"Please daddy, I need more!" she begs. "Stop teasing me!"
"Shut the fuck up," you snap, shoving three fingers into her mouth. She immediately starts sucking on them obscenely, her tongue swirling around the digits. "That's all your mouth is good for - being stuffed full."
You continue fingering her pussy torturously slow, bringing her close to orgasm before backing off. Her whole body trembles with need, hips bucking desperately. Wet sounds fill the room as you pump your fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.
"Look at you, so desperate to cum on my fingers," you taunt. "Such a needy little whore. I bet you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you like this while I'm in bed with Minji."
She moans around your fingers in her mouth, nodding eagerly. The admission makes your cock throb with anger and arousal. You withdraw your fingers from her mouth and pussy, making her whine at the loss.
"You want my cock, slut? Beg for it." You start undressing, watching her squirm on the bed.
"Please daddy, I need your big cock inside me! Need you to fuck me hard and rough, the way you can't fuck her. Want you to take out all your anger on my tight little pussy. Please please please!"
Once naked, you grab her hair and yank her head up. "First you're going to choke on it." You slap your hard cock against her face. "Open wide, whore."
She parts her lips eagerly and you waste no time shoving your cock down her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like the experienced cocksucker she is. Tears stream down her face as you fuck her mouth brutally.
"This is what you deserve," you growl, watching your cock disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "Being used like the worthless cocksleeve you are."
Ningning moans around your shaft, clearly loving the degradation. Her tongue works the underside of your cock as you thrust, adding to the pleasure despite your anger. Spit and pre-cum dribble down her chin.
You pull out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting your cock to her swollen lips. She gasps for air, face flushed and makeup smeared. "Thank you daddy," she pants. "Love choking on your big cock."
"Shut up," you snap, roughly flipping her onto her stomach. You grab her hips and pull them up, leaving her face pressed into the mattress with her ass in the air. The position strains her cuffed wrists but you don't care.
You tear her ruined thong off completely and spread her ass cheeks, exposing both her holes. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, cream coating her inner thighs. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red handprint.
"Look how wet you are, you fucking slut," you growl, running your fingers through her slick folds. "Getting off on being treated like garbage. Pathetic."
"Yes daddy, I'm pathetic! Please fuck this pathetic whore's pussy!" She pushes her hips back, trying to entice you.
You line your cock up with her entrance and thrust in balls deep in one brutal stroke. She screams into the mattress, her pussy clenching around your shaft. The wet heat of her cunt feels incredible.
"Fuck, your pussy is so tight," you grunt, starting to pound into her roughly. "Too bad it's attached to such a worthless excuse for a woman."
"Yes! Use my tight pussy!" she moans. "Fuck me harder daddy! Show me what a worthless whore I am!"
You grab her hair and pull her head back sharply as you continue drilling her pussy. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, making her whole body shake with each thrust.
"Is this what you wanted so much?" you growl in her ear. "To be fucked like the dirty slut you are? To have your pussy destroyed by another woman's man?"
"God yes! Love being your dirty little secret!" She pushes back to meet your thrusts. "I bet her fragile little heart couldn't handle those dirty words!"
You release her hair, letting her face fall back to the mattress. Your hands grip her hips bruisingly tight as you absolutely rail her pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, along with her muffled moans and your grunts.
Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, cream coating your cock and balls. The obscene squelching sounds only fuel your anger - she's getting off so hard on being used like this.
You bring your hand down hard on her ass again and again, turning the flesh bright red. Each spank makes her clench around your cock as she cries out in pain and pleasure.
"Fucking whore," you pant as you pound her. "Taking my cock so well. Such a good little cumdump."
"Yes! I'm your whore! I belong to you. Your cumdump!" she babbles into the sheets. "Use me daddy! Wreck my pussy!"
You can feel her getting close, her walls fluttering around your shaft. But you're not ready to let her cum yet. You pull out suddenly, making her whine in protest.
"No! Please don't stop!" she begs. "I was so close!"
"Shut up," you snap, flipping her onto her back again. You grab her legs and push them up toward her chest, folding her nearly in half. "Remember this: you don't belong to me… And I'm not done using you yet."
You slam back into her pussy, somehow going even deeper in this position. She screams in pleasure as you resume fucking her brutally. Her tits bounce with each thrust, nipples still red and swollen from your earlier abuse.
"Look at you, taking my cock like a proper whore," you growl. "This is all you're good for - being a set of holes for me to fuck."
"Yes daddy! That's all I am!" She's nearly sobbing with pleasure now. "Just holes for you to use! Please don't stop!"
Your pace becomes punishing, hips snapping against her with bruising force. The headboard slams rhythmically against the wall as you pound her pussy. Sweat drips down your chest from the exertion.
"Gonna cum soon," she moans. "Please daddy, can I cum on your cock? Need it so bad!"
You wrap a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to restrict her breathing. "You have to be a good girl if you want to cum."
The choking seems to drive her wild. Her pussy clenches around you even tighter as she gasps for air. You can feel her whole body trembling on the edge of orgasm.
"Please!" she begs when you ease the pressure on her throat. "Please let me cum daddy! I'll do anything!"
"Anything?" You slow your thrusts, making her whimper. "Even leave me and Minji alone?"
"N-no," she admits. "Can't give you up daddy. Need your cock too much."
You squeeze her throat again, harder this time. "Wrong answer, whore." You start pounding her pussy mercilessly, your own orgasm building.
"Sorry daddy!" she chokes out. "Please don't stop! Need to cum so bad!" The wet sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room along with her moans and whimpers. You could feel her getting close, walls fluttering around your cock. "Yes, yes yes! Gonna cum so hard for you!"
You keep the punishing rhythm, watching her writhe and arch closer to her peak. Her pussy drips, coating your cock in her arousal.
"That's it, Daddy, make me cum! I want to feel you fill me up when I do!"
But you have other plans. Just as her breathing hitches, her walls starting to spasm, you pull out completely. She cries out in frustrated protest.
"No! Please! I'm so close!"
You stroke your cock over her heaving body. "You don't deserve to cum, you manipulative bitch."
"Please! I need it! Need to feel you cum inside me!"
You aim your cock at her tits as your own orgasm builds. "The only thing you deserve is to be covered in my cum like the worthless slut you are."
She’s shaking, chest rising and falling as she watches, helpless. “No,” she whimpers, hips arching toward you, hands struggling against the cuffs. “Put it back in, Daddy, I need it-I need to cum- Cum with me, plea-” With a grunt, you explode over her perfect tits and stomach, thick ropes of cum painting her skin. She huffs in anger and frustration.
"You bastard! You ruined it on purpose!"
You get out of bed, satisfied with her denied pleasure. "I told you this was the last time. We're done."
She lies there panting, hands still cuffed above her head, covered in your seed. Her pussy is red and swollen from the rough fucking, cream still leaking out.
You unlock the handcuffs and start getting dressed without looking at her. The post-orgasm clarity brings the guilt crashing back full force.
You’re halfway into your shirt when her voice cuts through the room, honey-sweet and venomous.
"One week left." She leans back against the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk. "After that, I'm sending Minji a nice little video collection of us. And until then, you'll be here every night, and no more pranks on me!"
Your hands freeze mid-button, blood chilling. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Her eyes glint, sharp and dangerous. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been recording us. Why do you think I encouraged you to drink over and over again until you forgot your name?” She lets it sink in, enjoying every second you look at her like she’s lost her mind. “I’m not stupid, and I know you’ll try to crawl back to her. And knowing her, after so much crying, she might even give you another chance. But with some beautiful visual proof of how much you were loving cheating on her, she'll hardly forgive you. Not when she watches you cum in my pussy while I scream your name.”
The anger bubbling up feels like fire beneath your skin. “You’ve been recording us without telling me? You’re out of your fucking mind, Ning!”
“Oh, I’m the crazy one?” she sneers, voice dripping with mock innocence. “And what about you? Lying to Minji, sneaking around to fuck me late at night?” She steps closer, all her rage and bitterness on full display now. “Don’t act like you’re some victim. You wanted this. Now it’s gonna cost you.”
Your hands ball into fists, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is insane. You really think blackmail’s gonna make me stay?”
“I just want her to know the truth,” she laughs, almost sweetly. “I want her to see what kind of man she’s clinging to. I want her to see you for the liar you are. And maybe - just maybe - she’ll finally understand what it’s like to lose something she thought she owned.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit. “Minji never stole anything from you.”
She’s inches from you now, voice low and seething. “She stole everything,” she snaps, voice shaking with rage she’s clearly been holding back. “She was always the pretty one, the smart one, the good girl. The one everyone wanted to be around. And every time, people just forget about me.”
“That’s all in your head,” you say, shaking your head, voice cold. “Minji would never hurt you on purpose.”
“Please.” She snorts, a nasty smile twisting her lips. “She plays the innocent act so well, doesn’t she? Sweet Minji! Everyone’s favorite! But the second you walked into her life, she had to have you. Didn’t care that I liked you first!”
You laugh bitterly, stepping back. “You’re delusional.”
“Say what you want. You know I’m right.” She shrugs, looking at you like you’re a bug under her shoe. “Minji needs to learn what it feels like to be humiliated. And if you don’t break things off, she’s gonna get a front-row seat.”
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “This is all about you. About your fucking ego. You don’t give a damn about me or what happens to her.”
“Believe whatever makes you sleep at night.” She gives you a saccharine smile. “One week. I want you here tomorrow at this same time. And I think you better make me have at least four orgasms to make up for the anger you made me feel tonight... Now get the fuck out of here - I need to make myself cum!”
—
The next few days are exactly the same. You can barely eat or focus at work. You just don't sleep anymore. Minji notices something is wrong but you brush off her concerns, saying you're just stressed about a project.
Ningning keeps showing up at your apartment unannounced, finding excuses to touch you and whisper dirty things when Minji isn't looking. And at night? Well, there you are, in Ningning's room, fulfilling her whims, helpless and at the mercy of a maniac girl. During these days you couldn't find a way to tell Minji the truth. You know it will be the end of your relationship. Damn, you know this will destroy her, and there's no way this ends well, but even so, you keep putting off the truth... Suffering for the inevitable.
You feel like you're going insane.
Finally, the deadline arrives. You're sitting on the couch with Minji when her phone chimes with multiple notifications. "Why the hell is Ning sending me so many messages?” she asks with a chuckle, glancing at her phone's locked screen, showing only the number of messages and the sender. Your heart stops - you know what Ningning has sent.
"Wait," you grab Minji's wrist before she can check the messages. "I need to tell you something first."
She looks at you with concern. "What's wrong? You've been acting so strange lately."
You take a deep breath, knowing these next words will shatter her world. "I... I've been sleeping with Ning."
The color drains from Minji's face. "What?"
"It started when you were away. I was drunk and upset after our fight, and she was there..." You try to explain but the words sound hollow even to your own ears.
"How long?" Minji whispers, tears filling her eyes.
"A month. It... it kept happening. She threatened to tell you if I didn't leave you for her. I'm so sorry, Minji. I never meant-"
"My best friend?" she cuts you off, voice breaking. "How could you do this to me? Both of you?"
Her phone continues to buzz as Ningning sends video after video. Minji's hands tremble as she unlocks her phone and begins scrolling through the videos and photos.
“Babe, don't look…”
"How could you?" she asks, her voice breaking. "With my best friend? In our bed?"
"Minji, I'm so sorry," you start, but she cuts you off with a slap across your face.
"Don't!" she screams, stumbling backward. She throws her phone at the couch with such force that it bounces and falls to the floor. "Don't you dare apologize! When did this start?"
"Three days after you traveled," you admit, your cheek stinging. "It just happened, and then-"
"It just happened?" she laughs hysterically. "What, you just accidentally fell into her pussy? Multiple times?"
She picks up the phone from the floor, scrolling through more of the photos Ningning is still sending. "Oh my god, the kitchen counter? Where I make breakfast every morning? Our fucking couch?"
Her breathing becomes erratic, and she clutches her chest. You step forward in concern, but she holds up a hand to stop you.
"Don't touch me," she gasps. "I can't... I can't breathe…”
She stands up shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. Her breathing becomes labored and her face contorts in pain.
"Minji?" Panic grips you as she suddenly collapses. You catch her before she hits the ground, frantically calling her name as you dial the emergency number.
The next hours are a nightmare of hospital corridors and worried doctors. Minji's parents arrive and bar you from her room, though you can hardly blame them.
—
Days pass in a haze of guilt and worry. You call the hospital constantly for updates, but they won't tell you anything since you're not family.
Finally, after a week, you get a text from Minji herself.
"You can come see me. Room 412."
Your hands shake as you drive to the hospital. When you reach her room, you almost turn back, but you force yourself to knock.
"Come in," her voice calls weakly.
She's propped up in the hospital bed, looking small and pale against the white sheets. There are monitors beeping steadily beside her, IV lines running into her arm. The sight breaks your heart.
"Hi," you say softly, hovering by the door.
"Sit," she indicates the chair beside her bed. When you do, she studies your face for a long moment. "You look terrible."
"I haven't been sleeping." You lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Minji, I am so, so sorry-"
"Stop." She holds up a hand, just like before. "I don't want your apologies right now. I want answers."
You nod, prepared to tell her everything.
"Why?" she asks first. "Did I do something that ended up hurting you?"
“This has nothing to do with you," you admit. "I take full blame. Ning came to visit me as you asked, I was drunk, lonely and sad. She kissed me and I... I didn't stop her."
“If I'd called earlier and said I was sorry for the fight, would it have changed anything?”
“Minji, this-”
“Answer me with yes or no!” she exclaims and soon begins to cough.
“... Maybe. But it's absolutely not your fault."
“How many times did you fuck her?”
"It happened maybe... Twelve or thirteen times." Each admission feels like ripping open a wound. "She would come over, saying she missed me, and then..."
"And then you'd fuck her," Minji finishes flatly. "In our home. In our bed. While I was thousands of miles away, sick and missing you."
"Yes." There's nothing else to say.
"Did you think about me? When you were inside her, did you think about how this would destroy me?"
"I tried not to think at all," you whisper. "I knew it was wrong, but she kept coming back, threatening to tell you if I didn't keep seeing her."
“Let me see the messages.”
You hand her your phone and everything is there, from the first threatening messages to the most recent ones, the nudes, the multiple missed calls early in the morning, the promises… There was a certain obsession in it all, which made Minji feel bad, returning the phone to you in disgust.
"So you were protecting me, huh?" Minji laughs bitterly. "How noble of you."
"No, I was being a coward," you admit. "I was weak and selfish and I destroyed the best thing in my life because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants."
She flinches at your crude words but doesn't disagree.
"Do you love her?"
"No," you say immediately. "God no, Minji. I love you. Only you! What happened with Ning was just sex, just a horrible mistake that I would give anything to take back."
"But you can't take it back," she says quietly. "You can't undo what you did to me, to us."
Tears start falling down your face. "I know. But please, please give me a chance to make it right. I'll do anything."
"Anything?" She looks at you with those dark eyes that used to hold so much love. Now they're full of pain and disappointment. "Would you get on your knees right now and beg?"
Without hesitation, you slide out of the chair onto your knees beside her bed. "Yes. I'll beg, I'll crawl, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to you if you'll let me."
"I heard that conversation of yours," she says suddenly. “When you were talking to your mother on the phone about marrying me."
Your heart stops. You were planning to buy an engagement ring next year.
"I would be so happy," she continues, voice breaking. "I spent that whole month dreaming about our wedding, our future together. And the whole time, you were fucking my best friend in our bed."
"I'm sorry," you sob, grabbing her hand. "I'm so sorry, Minji. Please don't give up on us. Please give me one more chance."
She lets you hold her hand for a moment before pulling away. "I need time," she says finally. "When I get out of here, I don't want you at the apartment. I need space to think."
"Of course," you agree quickly. "Whatever you need. I'll stay with a friend."
"I'm not promising anything," she warns. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. But... I still love you. God help me, I still love you."
"I love you too, baby," you whisper. "More than anything. I'll wait as long as it takes."
She nods, then closes her eyes. "I don't want you to call me baby. It's disgusting now... I'm getting tired. You should go."
You stand reluctantly, wanting to say more but respecting her wishes. At the door, you turn back.
"Minji? What about Ning?"
Her face hardens. "She was here a few hours ago. We had a private conversation about our friendship. Things that only concern the two of us. Of course, I never want to see her again."
You nod and leave, hope and despair warring in your chest.
—
Outside, the air feels harsh, almost judging, as if the world itself knows what you’ve done.
In the parking lot you see her: Ningning, draped across the hood of your car, wearing a tight red dress that seems inappropriate for a hospital visit. She flashes that sly, knowing grin, like she’s already the winner, already got you tangled in her web.
“Took you long enough,” she purrs, reaching for you, fingertips grazing your chest. “Now we don’t have to hide.”
You step back, swatting her hand away. “No. This isn’t happening anymore. We’re done.”
She laughs, a low, dark sound that echoes in the empty parking lot. “Oh, come on. Are you really going to give up on us just because you had a sad little chat with her?” Her eyes flash with that dangerous mix of pride and amusement. “I know it must have been hard. But now we can be happy together...”
“It was a mistake,” you say, cold. “I betrayed her for what? A few nights of-”
“Of what? Say it,” she cuts you off, stepping closer. “Of something you couldn’t resist? Or are you too much of a coward to admit it? We both know you wanted this as much as I did. You loved every second of it.”
“I don’t want it anymore. Don’t want you anymore.”
She laughs again. “You’re a goddamn hypocrite. You want to play the martyr now, pretend you’re a good guy?” She leans in, her face inches from yours, breath hot on your skin. “Please, you’re still that same bastard who kept crawling back for more. Don’t act like you’re suddenly above it.”
Her words make you want to flinch, but you stand your ground, hands clenched tight. “Maybe I was. But I’m done now. I don’t need you. I need to fix what I broke.”
“Wow, So is she willing to give you another chance? Okay, quite predictable. But you know why she didn’t yell, why she didn’t throw shit at you in there? Because she fucking knows she deserved it,” Ningning starts, her expression is kind of scary, as if she knows all the secrets of the world. “Yeah, she sat there, looking all wounded and pure, but don’t let that act fool you. She knew. She’s known all along, even if she’ll never say it out loud.”
You try to interject, but Ningning cuts you off, her voice rising, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t give me that look! I'm not crazy! I saw it in her eyes when I walked in. That flicker of guilt, like she’s been caught, like she’s thinking, ‘Maybe I had this coming.’ Because guess what? She fucking did. She knew I loved you first. I’ve loved you since before she even knew your fucking name.”
She takes a step closer, jabbing a finger at your chest. “Do you know what it was like? Watching her swoop in with her sweet little smile, acting like she was all innocent and shy, when really, she was stealing what was mine? And I said nothing. I stood back, swallowed it, because, what, I was supposed to be the bigger person? Fuck that! She knew how I felt, and she still went for it. And she got you. She fucking won.”
Ningning’s voice cracks, but she pushes through. “And don’t think for a second she’s blameless. She played her part in this. She played you, she played me, and now she’s sitting up there in that hospital bed, acting like she’s some goddamn victim. But deep down, she knows. She knows she took something she never had a right to. And now? Now, she’s paying for it.”
Her words hang heavy in the air, and she exhales, running a hand through her hair like she’s trying to keep herself from spiraling further. “But the difference between me and her? I fucking own it. I wanted you, and I took you. I don’t hide behind some bullshit innocence or play the martyr. I go for what I want, and yeah, maybe that makes me the bad guy, but at least I’m honest about it.”
She gives you one last look, as if she's hoping that now you finally understand everything, her voice dropping, quieter now, but no less cutting. “She won’t admit it, but she knows. She deserved every second of this. But you know Minji. She’d rather die than let you see that, let you think for one second that she’s anything less than perfect.”
"You need help, Ning, you've created a whole fantasy in your head. Do you think you're that special to make Minji plot against you like this?”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Unbelievable. You’re pathetic. How can you be so blind and not see the truth? I'm trying to help you make the right fucking choice.” She spits the words at you like daggers. “You and I… we’re the same, whether you want to admit it or not.”
You shake your head, ignoring the pang her words bring. “We’re not the same, Ning. Not anymore.”
“You think you can just walk away from this? From me?”
“Watch me,” you mutter, yanking the car door open. The finality in your voice is ironclad, leaving no room for argument.
“You’ll be back,” she hisses. “You'll miss me when you realize who Minji really is. But then it'll be too late...”
But you don’t look at her as you drive off, leaving her alone in the parking lot.
And that was the last time you saw her.
—
Two months pass slowly. You move in with your friend, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about the mess you've made of your life. Ningning continues to send threatening messages, until you finally block her for good.
Finally, one rainy evening, your phone rings. It's Minji.
"Can we meet?" she asks without preamble. "Tomorrow at the café where we had our first date?"
Your heart races. "Yes, of course. What time?"
"Noon," she says, then hangs up.
You barely sleep that night, alternating between hope and dread. When you arrive at the café the next day, you're thirty minutes early. You order her favorite drink - vanilla latte with an extra shot - and wait.
She arrives exactly at noon, looking beautiful in a simple sundress. Your breath catches at the sight of her. She's gained back the weight she lost in the hospital, her cheeks rosy with health.
"Hi," she says, sliding into the seat across from you.
"Hi," you respond, pushing her coffee towards her. "I got your usual."
A small smile flickers across her face. "You remembered."
"I remember everything about you," you say softly.
She takes a sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts. "I've been doing a lot of thinking these past two months," she begins. "About us, about what happened, about what I want."
You wait, hardly breathing.
"I'm still angry," she continues. "I'm still hurt. What you did... it broke something in me that might never fully heal."
"I know," you whisper. "I hate myself for hurting you."
"But I've realized something," she says, meeting your eyes. "I don't want to hate you. I don't want to let what happened destroy all the good memories we have, all the love we shared."
"What are you saying...?"
"I'm saying... I think I can forgive you. Not completely, not yet. But I want to try."
Tears fill your eyes. "Really?"
"But," she holds up a hand, "there have to be conditions. First, we start as friends only. No romance, no sex, no pressure. We need to rebuild trust before anything else. If it doesn't feel right, then you'll disappear from my life."
You nod eagerly. "Of course. I'll do whatever you want, all at your own pace."
"Second, complete honesty from now on. About everything. One more lie and we're done forever."
"Absolutely," you agree. "I promise."
"And third," her voice hardens, "Ning is out of our lives completely. I'm sure she's still trying to contact you."
You pull out your phone and show her how you've blocked Ningning's number. "Already done. I haven't spoken to her since the hospital. She was waiting for me in the parking lot, thinking that suddenly we would be together."
Minji nods, satisfied. "She tried to convince me that you two were in love."
"What did you say?"
"I told her I saw the messages she sent you, threatening to tell me if you didn't keep sleeping with her." Minji's voice is cold. "She's not innocent. You're both guilty. But you told me you don't love her... Guess I can believe that for now. Oh, and after her mask fell off, I managed to convince her to delete all the videos she had recorded. I think the sight of me in a hospital bed touched her a little bit. No need to thank me."
You hang your head, shame burning through you.
"And," Minji continues, "you told me the truth before she could expose you. That counts for something, I guess."
"I should have told you sooner," you admit. "I was just so scared of losing you."
"And you almost did," she says quietly. "My heart literally couldn't take it."
You reach across the table, hesitantly taking her hand. When she doesn't pull away, you squeeze gently.
"I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you," you promise. "If you'll let me."
She looks at your joined hands for a long moment. "We'll see," she says finally. "One day at a time."
You spend the next hour talking - really talking - about everything that happened. She tells you how betrayed she felt, how the thought of you with Ningning still makes her physically ill. You tell her about the guilt that's been eating you alive, the sleepless nights spent hating yourself.
“I was looking at some wedding rings during my trip, just dreaming…” she says suddenly, catching you off-guard. “I was so happy, you know? Because I thought… I thought I’d found the one I wanted.” Her voice cracks, and she swallows, steadying herself.
The words sink deep, and your chest tightens. “Maybe someday… if we get there again, I’ll buy you the most beautiful ring in the world.”
She gives you a small smile. "One day at a time, remember?"
When it's time to leave, you walk her to her car. Before she gets in, she turns to you.
"I'm having dinner with my parents tomorrow night," she says. "Would you like to come?"
Your heart leaps. Her parents have refused to speak to you since the hospital. "Are you sure?"
She nods. "They need to see that I'm choosing to try again with you. It won't be easy - they hate you right now. But if we're going to move forward, they need to accept it."
"I'll be there," you promise. "Thank you, Minji. For giving me another chance."
She reaches up and touches your face softly - the first intimate contact she's initiated in two months.
"Don't make me regret it," she whispers, then gets in her car and drives away.
You watch until her car disappears around the corner, hope filling your chest for the first time in months. You know the road ahead will be difficult. Trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild. But you'll do whatever it takes to prove to Minji that her faith in you isn't misplaced.
Your phone buzzes - a text from an unknown number.
"Everything I did, I did for you," the message reads. "Hope you are happy with your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you."
You delete the message without responding and block the new number.
She'll have to give up at some point.
The only person you belong to now is Minji - if she'll have you.
As you walk to your car, you start planning how to win back not just Minji's trust, but her heart. It won't be easy, but nothing worth having ever is. And Minji is worth everything.
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tags: step-brother!park jongseong x fem!reader, d/s dynamics, dom!jay x sub!reader, manipulation lowkey?, implied male masturbation, kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), dirty talk, use of nicknames (baby, princess, jjongie, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), spit kink, begging, daddy kink, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, choking, praise kink, creampie, fluff and uncertainty at the end, etc
wc: 4.12k
add. notes: ok i know i said i would Not upload soon much less written work either but guess who lied!!! no but fr my mood was pretty terrible yst morning bcs of some stupid classmates not contributing to group work but u know what i had food n ice cream w my friend n i felt a bit better at the least. it still doesn’t excuse their actions but ya anyways bcs of my peace of mind n bcs i finished my part for my presentation, i present to u a Very long stepbro jay fic hehe.. some parts or sentences may look familiar but that's cus i acc sent them to a blog here as anon messages LMFAO but yea i hope u guys enjoy :3 icon creds to @/purinkiss btw!
. . .
ever since your parents’ divorce, your entire world shattered. it only got worse when your dad announced he’d be bringing home a new woman, much less one who had a child the same age as you. of course, you disagreed at first, throwing harsh words at him up until the point he forced you to meet the delinquent, dragging you by the arm to the restaurant where you were to have dinner with whoever these random people who were about to become part of your small family circle were. you’d even made a firm promise to yourself to not entertain them and to be petty, whether that translated through snide remarks or rolling your eyes, and you swear you really were going to go through with it—
that is, until you met jay.
jay was nothing like you’d imagined him to be. in your head, your new, soon-to-be stepbrother was an ugly, rude and snobby brat who didn’t give two cents about joining your family, the jay you met in reality though? everything but that. he was sweet, and polite, and absolutely fucking gorgeous; blonde hair swept back with a strand falling over his forehead, lean shoulders outlined in the tight fitting black shirt he’d decided to wear for the occasion, and a smile worth a thousand bucks or even dying for. any words that were previously on the tip of your tongue died down when he took your hand in his to shake it, the soft feel of his skin and his bright grin making your insides positively melt and the thoughts of your parents split dissipate within seconds.
your stepbrother’s attitude and good looks carried through the months you spent with him too. if anything, it became even more reinforced with him taking care of you whenever you needed him. he’d handle sharp objects for you while making your favourite food, hold your hand on the street if you had to cross the road, carry your bags when they got too heavy, rush in front of the door to open it for you, and so, so much more. you were at a privilege to be able to watch him walk around with nothing but a simple shirt and sweatpants around the house too, shamelessly raking your eyes over his attractive features and boring them into his back when he leaned over the stovetop to cook you ramen.
part of you felt like a perv, for behaving this way and finding him good looking even if he objectively was. you knew it wasn’t like you could help it, you had eyes and they obviously saw what was in front of you, but you tried shoving it down anyways. it also didn’t help that jay constantly hovered around you and made your relationship out to be so.. domestic. he’d narrow his eyes when he caught you talking on the phone to your friends about your latest hook-up, lecturing you on the use of safe sex and how college boys were no good for you until you were red in the face with embarrassment, or he’d offer for the both of you to hang out together after classes ended for you every other day, draping a blanket over your figures and scooching in close to you up until you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. your dad and his new wife thought nothing of it despite your mind spinning, cooing over how well you two got along and relishing in the fact that their children were such good siblings already.
oh, if only they were aware of the twisted fantasies swirling in jongseong’s mind.
because from the minute jay saw you, he knew he had to have you. your pretty face, your soft-spoken voice, and of course, your fucking body. he felt like he was about to lose his damn mind when he first saw you walk around the house in nothing but skimpy shorts and that stupid pink top that left nothing up to the imagination. to an extent, it almost felt like you were teasing him on purpose, especially when he’d find you seated on the couch with your exposed thighs and the subtle dip of your cleavage peeking through the measly clothes that practically coaxed him to sport a hard-on right then and there. it’d be the dead of night when he’d finally find some relief after a day of watching you parade around the kitchen, wondering what it would feel like to grip your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pull your nose flush to his pelvis with him nestled deep inside your throat. and it was only when jongseong came all over his hand and sheets for the nth time after fantasising about you that he realised he needed to do something about this, whether that went against his moral compass or not.
it started with light touches.
jay would grasp your shoulder to move past you when you were in the way, barely mumbling an ‘excuse me’ to alert you of his presence so you wouldn’t practically jump out of your skin when he did so. his hand would linger in yours for a second too long when he tried not losing you in crowds, gently commanding you to stay close to him in that stern tone of his that made your panties stick to you. it was common etiquette, you thought, he was just doing his job as a brother would normally do for his sister, but the only thing in jongseong’s mind was to make you let down your guard, let it down so much that he could swoop in at the perfect time to take advantage of it. he knew it was wrong, so sinister and dark to want to fuck his own stepsister to the point the only way he could get it up was to the thought of you, but jay didn’t care about any of that at this point, far too fucked out in his own head to think of having eyes for anyone but you.
and as expected, all throughout this, you didn’t suspect a thing. how could you? jay was so perfect, so well-mannered and so attentive. he listened to you rant about anything trivial in your life and drove you around when you wanted to meet up with your girls. he’d wake up late at night if you had a bad dream, consoling you even through the sight of your tears making him worked up, and rub your back softly when you needed to be taken care of. he’d let you sneak back in the house after you’d told your dad you were going out to the library to study, making up excuses for you when your lies fell short. he had your back, and in turn, you had his, so you would’ve never thought of him as anything but a gentleman and big brother.
until everything he did grew into more.
until having an arm behind your carseat while looking into the rearview mirror turned into placing his hand on your thigh, inches away from the seam of your skirt. until sitting next to him while watching a movie with a shared blanket turned into him nuzzling against you under the covered fabric. until having dinner with both your parents present at the dinner table turned into his foot grazing against yours ever so slightly.
until your honey-like voice calling out for him to help you get the glass on the top cabinet turned into full blown moans of you getting eaten out on the living room couch, echoing throughout the empty house because of-fucking-course, your parents were out for the night on a dinner date.
you weren’t even sure how it happened. one minute, you were struggling to reach on your tippy toes, your mouth instinctively moving to utter jay’s name because he was the only one besides you at home who could help out, but the next, he was pressing up against you to the point of grinding himself into your ass, causing you both to inhale sharply. you vaguely recall turning around, ready to ask what your stepbrother was doing when you’d caught sight of his darkened eyes, practically eyeing you like a piece of meat. and by the time anything even registered in your mind, his lips were already on yours, and his hand was dragging you over to the couch in record time.
“j-jay, we shouldn’t be doing this.” you stuttered out, your voice meek and quiet as you tried not to roll your eyes back at the sight of him slurping up your juices. he didn’t respond, instead opting to move his mouth up to focus on your clit, sucking it into the hot cavern and rolling his tongue against it to the point it had you seeing stars. you knew it was wrong, going against so many moral standpoints and rules, but god did it feel so good. you quickly came to understand that the jay who was going down on you currently was nothing like the jay who engages with you in your day to day life. that jay is gentle, well-meaning and answers all your questions despite how dumb they may seem. but this jay? he’s fucking filthy, messy to the point you can tell your juices are dribbling down his chin.
“fuck, you taste so good.” he gasps out when he finally decides to pull away. “thought about this so much when jerking off.” your eyes widen at his crude admittance, and you know you really should be disgusted at it, but something about the idea of jay being alone in the darkness of his room, hand wrapped around himself while saying your name under his breath only makes you wet, even more so than you already are. at the back of your mind, something screams at you to stop, but you’ve already gotten a taste of what your stepbrother can provide you, and you’d be damned if you didn’t stick around to find out more about it.
“this is wrong.” you quietly admit anyways, even if it’s not what you want to say. but jay just hums, leaning down to hover above your figure as his arms cage you in underneath him, doing very little to help the fact of how much smaller you feel below him. his lips ghost the shell of your ear as you shiver at the proximity between you two, and he gently nips at it, leaving you biting your tongue to hold back the noises you long yearn to let out. “i know it is, baby, but doesn’t it feel so fucking good?” jay questions with a low chuckle, pulling away to cock his head to the side. you curse internally at the way the nickname sounds coming from him, a dust of light pink spreading across your cheeks because fuck, how can someone be so alluring at all times?
“don’t you want to feel even better, princess?” jay’s voice draws you out, and you hold back a moan at the way he grinds his clothed bulge against your bare opening, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s slowly convincing you over to the dark side. “don’t you want your big brother to spread this pussy open and fuck it ‘till you’re crying from how good it feels?” you almost nod, trying to resist the urge to buck your hips up to catch the sensation of his lower region against you once more. instead, you choose to turn your face away from his striking gaze staring you down, but jay just grips your jaw and turns you to face him once more, the action only making your insides swirl with delight.
“still, what if your mom and my dad find out?” you mumble, and jay just grins wickedly. he swoops in, dipping his head down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that makes you giddy with joy, sneaking his tongue past the opening of your mouth to lick into it. when he pulls back, there’s a thin line of spit connection you both, prompting you to squirm at the sight to which jay’s chest rumbles with laughter. “you’re so fucking cute, y’know that? been dreaming of having your pretty body underneath me since i met you.” he admits lowly, your wide eyes only spurring him on further. “wanna know what i think?” you slowly nod, unsure of where this is going. jay’s voice drops an octave lower as he leans in close and whispers—
“i think you’re a dirty, little slut who deserves to get fucked by her big brother.”
you can’t help the whimper that escapes you at his words this time, and that’s all the confirmation jay needs to sit up and tear off his shirt, bringing to life all the fantasies you’ve had about his body this entire time. you can’t stop yourself from reaching out a hand to touch him, nails grazing across the ridges of his toned stomach and the dip of his v-line that’s hiding the very thing you’ve been craving under his sweatpants. meanwhile, jay just watches you with lust swirling in his orbs, a small smirk playing at his swollen lips as he takes in the picture of your innocent little face ogling his figure. “you like what you see, don’t you, pretty?” he murmurs, biting his lip at the way you nod in shame. “don’t worry.” jay grunts, standing momentarily to loop his fingers inside the edges of his pants. “you’ll get what you’re craving real soon.” he winks before he’s yanking the only thing separating you both down, exposing himself in all his glory to your awaiting eyes at last.
“goddamnit, it’s pretty.” you think to yourself when your eyes finally settle on your stepbrother’s dick. the tip is an angry shade of red, dribbling with a few beads of precum that your face falls at when jay swipes them away with his thumb as he wraps his large hand around himself. your disappointment is short-lived, however, because he’s back on top of you soon, holding the very same thumb up to your awaiting mouth to taste, to which you eagerly wrap your lips around, the salty flavour of him invading your senses. “good girl.” jongseong commends as you suckle at the tip of his finger, the praise going straight to your core. he pulls his hand away from you after a short while, that same wet thumb snaking its way down to find your clit and pressing against it, which does nothing but rip a noise of satisfaction from you. jay continues to rub at your engorged nub, his gaze fixated on the sight of your pussy as if he’s trying to commit it to memory.
“shit. i can’t wait any more.” he growls after another second, retracting his hand to wrap it around himself instead, pumping once or twice before he’s pressing the head against your awaiting entrance. you watch with bated breath as he rubs against your folds, slicking up with your oozing juices until your patience starts wearing thin. “jay,” you huff after a minute, legs kicking up in frustration as your stepbrother glances at you teasingly. “what do you want, angel? use your big girl words and tell me.” he smiles, almost innocent to the point you even forget the compromising position you’re both in.
“want.. want you.” you admit shyly, averting your eyes to a forgotten corner in the room as jay tsk’s. “look at me when you speak, whore.” he spits out, his entire demeanour changing in an instant. it only makes you leak even more, and you swallow thickly, eyes pleading. “please fuck me, please. wan’ you to do what you said, spreading me open and using me until i cry, please, please, please. jjongie, daddy, please, i—“
you don’t even get the chance to finish because by the time both the nickname and title leave your mouth, jay has long lost his composure, instantly pushing inside you as he attempts to bottom out his large cock. he hisses at the way your warm walls envelop him, and the only thing you can do is cry out at the way you’re being stretched out to your limit, finally having the emptiness inside you satiated with the presence of your stepbrother’s dick. “fuuuck, that’s it, look at this tiny, little hole sucking me in.” jay curses, and you flare red in embarrassment at his nasty words, ignoring the way they only make you gush around him even more.
“i’m going to absolutely ruin you, baby.” is the only thing jay says before he’s pulling out and slamming himself back into you, leaving you to cry out as his mushroom tip instantly hits that one spot deep inside. his thrusts are erratic, filled with a fervour none of the other guys you’ve ever slept with had, and you think the way he’s fucking you now is definitely going to rectify his promise of fucking you until you’re crying, the occasion seeming to be very well on its way of happening.
“fuck, there is no way this is the last time we’re doing this.” jay groans, the noise of skin slapping and your moans echoing throughout the living room as he continues absolutely drilling you. each drag of his cock drives into you with sheer power and raw desire to completely destroy you it seems, and you’re sure nobody is ever going to top it. “gonna use you everywhere, every time i please. you want that too, don’t you? tell me you do, princess. tell me and daddy will fuck you like he means it every single time.” he blurts out. the only way you can respond is through incoherently mumbling and the nodding of your head, far too dazed out already at the way your stepbrother is pounding into you, which only draws a breathy laugh from jay. “seems i’ve fucked you dumb already, huh? cock that good? so good it’s got my baby all dumb?” he taunts. you only whine at his words, drool spilling out from the side of your lips which jay wipes off with a chuckle.
“i’m already close, god.” he sighs, his movements unrelenting and balls tightening with the way they slap against your ass. “want me to cum inside you? for daddy to breed this pussy full? maybe i should do it and make you walk around with my seed lodged deep in your messy cunt.” jay hisses, his hand snaking it ways to your neck as he continues talking. “bet you’d like that ‘cause you’re a filthy fucking bitch. letting your stepbrother fuck your tight cunt as he pleases.” slender fingers wrap around the skin and tighten their grip slightly to restrict your airflow, and that’s all it takes to abruptly push you over the edge, leaving you dropping your mouth open in a silent scream as you cum. jay continues fucking you through your high, making out your small mewls amongst the lewd sounds of his cock shoving into your hole.
“good girl, good fucking girl. did so well for me, came so much all for daddy. you’re so, so good to me, princess. fuck, i love you.” jay blabbers as he lets go of your neck, too lost in chasing his own peak to even realise what he’s just admitted. you don’t catch it fully either in your haze of overstimulation that he continues to fuck you through, but some unconscious part of you mutters it back as best as you can somehow. jay’s heart swells at the way you take him, so small and pliant for him to just use for his own good, and he leans in to smash his lips against yours, drinking in your loud sounds as his movements start to falter with his upcoming release washing over him.
“just a bit more, pretty, just a bit. such a good fucking girl for daddy, letting him use your body, fuck. i’m gonna cum deep inside you, angel. gonna reward you with my cum. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? like me to creampie this precious hole?” jay stammers out, the coil in his stomach close to snapping. he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up his exterior, sweat dripping down his forehead and closed eyes as his tired hips continue ramming his cock into you. he feels you wrap your arms around his neck, cracking his orbs open to find your fucked out face mumbling for his cum, your legs wrapping against his waist to keep him locked into you.
“cum in me, daddy, please cum in me. wan’ your cum, i’ll take it like a good girl. please, daddy.” you babble, and that’s all it takes to send jay over the edge too, loud groans leaving his mouth as he shoots thick ropes of white inside your walls, painting them with his release. he cums for what feels like forever, holding your body close to his as his cock throbs inside your spasming cunt that’s still greedily sucking him in, urging him to fill you up. he finally stops after seemingly a good minute, panting against your neck where he’s buried his face into as he lets the post-orgasm bliss wash over himself.
“fuck,” jay heaves a breath once he’s finally recovered, making sure to use his softening cock to keep you plugged up in fear his cum will drip down and stain the couch, much less make your scandalous activities known to both your parents. he knows he’s going to have to face the reality of everything soon, but for now, he chooses to ignore it, propping himself up with an arm as he takes a look at your tired face that’s still so beautiful even after he basically fucked you within an inch of your life.
“you okay?” he asks softly after a while, prompting you to open your eyes and look up at him. there’s so much love and adoration in them that it makes jay feel all gooey inside, and when you nod with a small smile on your lips, he can’t help but lean back in and kiss you, desperately wishing this won’t be the last time he feels your mouth on his. “you think we made a mess?” you wonder out loud with a giggle once he’s pulled away, and jay just laughs breathlessly at you, brushing a strand of loose hair out of your face to take a proper look. “i’ll clean it up if so, don’t worry, baby.” he reassures in a quiet voice, leaving you to hum in agreement as a response.
“jay.”
“hm?”
“..what now?”
jay inhales when you bring forth the question he doesn’t have an answer to, looking down at you to find your worried expression staring back at him. he coos when you jut out your bottom lip, brushing a thumb against your cheek smoothly as he sighs. “don’t worry about that now, princess. just sleep.” he murmurs.
he can tell you’re not entirely satisfied with his admission, and that you want to say something more, but even if you do, you choose not to, instead opting to follow his advice and shutting your eyes by letting the fatigue from what you’d just been through take over your body. jongseong watches as you slowly close off your thoughts and mind, gently resting his body weight on top of you in favour of pulling you closer. he tries to avoid thinking of the inevitable that’ll come to wake him up, but he’ll deal with that later, choosing to bask in this moment with you for as long as he can before he has to face reality. instead, he presses a small kiss to your cheek, nuzzling it with his nose before closing his own eyes. he eventually drifts off to dreamland, where his thoughts will still be filled with your face.
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
#✰ sunny's oneshots!#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#jay smut#park jongseong smut#jay x you#park jongseong x you#jay x reader#park jongseong x reader#park jay smut#enha smut#enha x reader#enha x you
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How do you think sukuna would act with a baby girl?? The same as his son? Maybe a bit more soft since he reminds him of reader?
troublesome — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
a/n: i have something else in store for geto <3
sukuna never planned on becoming a parent, but then you became pregnant. he had two choices: kill the kid from now or let you give birth to it.
he spent a good couple of days deciding on what to do, until he finally made his mind and headed to your room, swiftly. there you were in all your glory, eyes snapping to your husband the moment he entered.
you smiled, standing up, “hey, sukuna.” then walked to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek.
he, however, said nothing and simply kept staring you down then he said a simple phrase, “the kid.”
your eyes widened, your thoughts jumbled, and your nerves were all over the place. still, you manage to get out a response, “what about it?”
he stayed silent, and it drove you over the edge. you needed him to say something—anything. will he let you have it, or will he kill it? he was never fond of kids, always killed them first in his raids. will your own child with him bear the same fate as the others he had slaughtered and even eaten?
is this a joke from the universe? you married the king of curses, and, therefore, your punishment is never getting to experience the joy of having kids? but even if he does end up choosing wanting to kill it, how will he—
“I will let you keep it.”
you never thought a simple sentence would induce so much happiness in you. you cup his face and start showering him in kisses, and you unceasingly thank him, “thank you, sukuna! thank you so much!”
he grunts, hand resting on your waist, “just don’t cause me trouble, and it better be a boy.” he takes hold of your chin and makes you lock eyes with him, “I don’t want a whiny, slimy little girl.”
and because the world loves him so much, he was indeed graced with a whiny, slimy little girl.
the moment the woman announced that it’s a girl, your face paled, and your husband’s frown could’ve never been deeper. his eyes traced every action that happened from the cleaning of the baby to the little girl being nestled cozily in your arms.
she starts calming down when she feels the warmth of your skin against her own. slowly, her breathing evens out, and she falls into a deep slumber.
the servants rush out of the room, leaving you, your husband, and your newborn daughter.
you don’t know what to do: do you speak first or do you wait for him to do it? you keep searching his face for any positive emotion, something that would give you hope and make you forget about his sharp scowl.
he puts a hand out and orders, “hand her to me.”
your heart fell to your stomach. there’s nothing you could do. whatever he decided on was what will happen. you desperately wanted to hold her for a bit longer and to feel her comforting weight in your arms.
though, your husband got impatient, eyes sharply looking you in the eyes, and he glowered, “y/n.”
despite your heart screaming and trying to resist ever letting him touch a single hair on your baby, you shakily put her in his hand. she starts huffing, puffing, and squirming in his hold. fearing the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut.
you simply won’t be able to take witnessing your daughter’s slaughter with your very own eyes.
you expect to hear a slash, a little thud, but you’re met with nothing, just a groan from your husband as he mutters, “she is small.”
you blink owlishly then stare at him. he is slowly raising and lowering the hand—an attempt to rock her maybe—that has your baby in it. then, he situates her against his chest.
he looks up to you and states, “she is also ugly.”
frowning, you retort, “that’s because of your genes.”
your husband quirks an eyebrow, “you’re balantly insulting me even after I spared it?”
“her.”
“same difference.”
sukuna shuffles until he is seated beside you and silently pulls you into his embrace.
you just took notice of how he is trying to avoid touching her with his nails and how his hold on her is rather gentle. the little girl lets out a small sigh then snuggles into his chest. her dad copies her with a sigh of his own then he grunts, “not a single word.”
a small giddy giggle escapes you, and you nuzzle into his chest in turn. he squeezes you lightly, before scoffing, “or a sound.”
later on that day, after you were transferred into the master bedroom along with your daughter, you’re left to rest in the expansive bed with your daughter napping in the crib right under the window.
you thought the light might give her some sort of comfort—call it a mother’s instinct. you wanted her to grow up in the light, not to be sheltered and hidden in shadows. who knows if these shadows will devour whole or not.
but you will try your best to provide her with a normal life.
as you start to drift off to sleep, you take note of a large figure standing in front of the window. he is blocking the light from sky—at least the one from the window above her crib. quickly, you are able to define its features and identify that it’s—thank god—your husband.
he has this sort of contemplating look on his face, a solemn look, maybe a bit troubled too. he keeps staring at the sleeping baby as she takes small and slow breaths.
she is fragile, he knows. he also knows that a flick of his finger will end her right then and there.
but he finds his hand only capable of gently caressing her cheek, and a wave of shock is sent through him when his daughter leans toward his touch. his daughter. he heaves a sigh and a frown is etched onto his face.
this is going to be a troublesome journey.
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#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x y/n#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x y/n#jjk sukuna x reader
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Frat Boy!Gojo
Estrella Damm: don't drink and run
Contents: general dumbassery, cursing, slight sexual language, violence, lots of cursing, wrote this high so idk if this even makes sense, I'll reread it and let you know whether its bs lol
It’s the same scene again.
Three guys are circling you, laughing so irritatingly, and you’re just sitting there, doing your very best to shrug them off. The park is empty, it usually is at 3pm and especially these days with the nippy weather. Whenever Gojo strolls along the place to get to campus, he sees you resting on a bench, watching the tree branches sway above the pond.
You’re hard to miss.
A mass of black like an omen amongst the peace of nature, a blob of ink on a Monet, and he sees you everywhere. It’s funny, he thinks, how prior to the announcement of the engagement during the summer, he had never seen you on campus before.
He can’t fathom how it was possible that he missed you. You stand out so badly, all eyes are on you everywhere you go. What with your lace frocks, thick platform boots, and terrifying piercings.
You’re rolling your eyes at the lanky guy in front of you, thin lips curling over yellow teeth to snarl insipid insults that the other two chortle at. You just wanted a peaceful break in between your lectures, to take in the fresh autumn air, and watch people pass. But then again the universe has never really liked you. That became abundantly clear when your parents threw the news at you.
Was Nietzsche right?
So now you’re stuck watching disgusting idiots pick up a layer of your dress, mocking the fabric as if it’s something cheap. Little do they know.
“Where’s the funeral, hot stuff?”
You cringe. It’s the repulsive roll of his tongue, the way he flashes you a grin as if he’s such a catch and you should be happy he’s giving you any kind of attention. He probably thinks of himself as something akin to a wolf, wild and feral in the sexiest way, but from where you’re sitting, he more closely resembles a rabid hyena, slobbering all over itself.
His breath surely smells like it too.
Exasperated, you stand, snatching your dress from their grimy hands and sneer, “Don’t touch me, you ugly trolls.”
They don’t like that.
Just as you’re stepping away, someone grabs your hair with a harsh pull and you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes from the burn on your scalp. Whoever has your hair drags you back to him, his face too close to yours, and you can see every pore, every hair, and you resist the urge to gag at the feeling of his breath skimming your skin.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, you prissy little pri—“
Before he can finish his sentence, a hand is gripping his wrist, wrestling it back at an awkward angle, forcing his body to follow suit. He yelps and you stumble back on the bench, rubbing at your head.
Your heartbeat is galloping like crazy, air robbed from your lungs and you’re rearing back to see a white-haired man looming over all of you with a menacing grin.
Gojo looks terrifying.
A shiver claws up your spine, fear prickling your skin, and it feels as if the park had just become colder, dropping into the negatives. There’s something devoid of light in his eyes and it knocks you off balance. You’re dazed and his withering look full of disdain and contempt isn’t even targeted towards you.
"You guys again?"
The sheer revulsion, the abhorrence and loathing seeping through his words creates a flurry of shame through you all. You see it in the flush that reddens one’s guys face, and in the deep gulp the second one makes. It’s as if you’ve committed a fundamental wrong, like the whole affair was an abomination that he had happened to stumble upon.
He’s still twisting the guy’s arm back and ignoring the broken moans coming from him, choosing instead to direct his ice cold stare at the other two guys. They stand uneasily, glancing between each other as if deciding what to do. Seeing the resolve in the newcomer’s eyes, and the promise of pain, they grab at their friend and hastily walk away, not sparing a glance back.
Not even at you, like you were never there to begin with.
Huffing, you stand up, brushing imaginary dirt from the skirt of your dress and muttering a reluctant ‘thanks’ to Gojo. He’s studying you, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge so he can look at you over them.
What kind of idiot wears sunglasses when there's no sun?
He doesn’t say a word and you begin to feel uncertain.
The man before you is a mystery. You don’t know what he’s thinking. One minute he hates you and has declared you public enemy number one and the next he’s defending you from slimy perverts.
What is wrong with him?
Sure, you’re glad he didn’t just leave you to fend for yourself but you also wish he just left as soon as he came so you wouldn't have to deal with the awkward aftermath. Now, you’re left staring at him waiting for a stupid comment to come.
But it doesn’t.
“Got something to say?”
Your voice is snarky, but wavers just ever so slightly, the effects of the shock still coursing your veins. Gojo doesn’t flinch, he just shrugs and gives you one final look over, before he’s stalking off, long legs carrying him away like he was just strolling past to begin with.
One step for him is like three for you.
You begin walking too. And you scowl when he looks back at you over his shoulder, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, swinging his crazy long legs like a giraffe.
Why does he walk like that?
“You following me?”
His tone is so disgustingly arrogant you feel a sudden urge to whack him over the head with your boots. But you don’t. Because your boots are limited edition and much too pretty to scuff up with his ugly face.
Not to mention your parents would kill you, and so would his, probably. And maybe even the entire campus.
Because according to the 'Bulletin' and this so called ‘List’ Gojo introduced you to, your fiancé is apparently the most beloved man in EdenU. Known for being friendly, approachable, charitable and charismatic, everyone either wants to be friends with Gojo, date Gojo or be Gojo.
Having read every single piece written by some girl with poor tastes in men, clearly, you realise that there must be something wrong with the entire student population-- and even the staff, if the blushing some lecturers do when he passes is anything to go by. There are direct quotes from people detailing first-hand experiences with Gojo’s ‘kindness’, with how he took the time out of his day to give directions, helped an old lady cross the street, claps at the end of lectures as an expression of gratitude.
Classic bourgeoisie propaganda.
How could anyone consider him as a) a good guy, and b) a hot one?
That question has been bothering you for about a week now. And it continues to do so as he looks at you like you're bothering him.
You speed walk, pumping your legs as hard as you can so you can glide by him. Who’s following who now?
It’s petty, you know that. But for whatever reason, the guy just brings out that bitter child inside of you, the one that wants to be mean, to spit back as good as you get, and to put him in his place.
Because clearly, the campus gossip has gotten to his head.
You hear him scoff before he starts speed-walking beside you. It looks effortless on him. What a prick.
His jacket brushes against you and you recoil, aghast that his bacteria touched you. With a new wave of determination, you begin jogging. It’s the most exercise you’ve gotten in years but it’s so worth it to see him jog as well.
“Give it up, I’m way faster than you.”
Wordlessly, you jog a little faster every time he does.
“Surprised to see you sober enough to walk in a park,” you voiced with a taunting tone.
Gojo retorts, just as quick, “And I’m surprised you’re out in broad daylight.”
Dodging fallen branches and puddles, you leap and clutch your dress, lifting the thick skirt so your legs can push and push. There is no way you'll lose to the likes of him. You just need to reach the park edge, where grass meets concrete, and once you pass it, you'll claim victory.
Huffing, you barb, “I’m sure you like the weather just fine, right, Periwinkle?”
He snorts. “That must make you Vidia.”
“She’s hot so I’ll take that.”
Throwing you a side glance, he rolls his eyes and maintained, with a singsong voice, “Silvermist is hotter.”
Eventually, you’re both running through the park, overtaking each other in a give and take, and you grin every time you get the best of him by cutting corners. You know this park like the back of your hand. The cool wind doesn’t even register on your skin, adrenaline urging you forward, winding along the path and dodging bystanders who look on with half confusion and half amusement.
This is probably the most excitement this park has seen in years.
Gojo doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed.
"Move, you're in my way, Eric Draven," he jab, not even slightly breath.
You sneer.
"No, you're in my way, Johnny Bravo."
You screech when a sudden force knocks you into a hedge. Sharp twigs poke at you, you struggle to gain footing against the mud, and you flail your arms. Your hair is caught, so is the lace of your dress, like a moth trapped in a spiderweb.
The motherfucker shoved you.
He actually shoved you.
Gojo's staring, with his mouth gaping, at his hand and then at you and then back to his hand, like he didn't mean to push you, like his body just moved on its own. And you see him take a step, hands stretching out to reach for you.
The fucking dick is so childish you don’t feel any guilt when you grab him by his jacket and yank. He falls with laugh like he had been anticipating your revenge, a light and airy sort of chortle, so childlike and youthful it almost makes you smile. Almost, because then you're both going quiet when he lands on top of you.
That wasn't very well thought out.
You’re both angled slightly back on the thick hedge, so out of breath, the tiny branches prick at you both, leaves no doubt catching on your dress. Gojo’s holding his body weight, trying to find his footing on the wet grass but struggling to press his hands on anywhere concrete. Your legs are tangled, hips pinned to each other, and your hands are clinging to his jacket so you don’t fall deeper.
“Woah,” he breathes out, panting slightly, “you want me this badly?”
Your frown deepens until you’re sure your lips will stay stuck in that position. He really just can’t help himself. It’s like it’s in his DNA to say something stupidly arrogant just to avoid the silence. With a grunt, you try to push him off you, feet kicking. The fucker is heavy. And he doesn’t even look like he’s trying.
Gojo smells clean and you hate it. He smells like fresh laundry and sea salt and fluffy clouds. With every movement you make against each other, you become more aware of his broad shoulders and narrow hips. It’s like he’s got a sleeper build. His chest is firm beneath your palms and your face is buried in his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple bob.
“Move, fat ass,” you say through gritted teeth.
He makes a sound of indignation, “Fat ass? Me? How dare you! I don't calorie count for nothing.”
Always fucking joking, the little shit.
You shove at his chest. “Move, Gojo, I swear to God.”
"Yeah, yeah. I'm trying," he huffs and puffs, clambering away, and then he adds, like he just cannot fucking help himself, "Siouxsie Sioux."
With awkward shuffles and uncomfortable twists and turns, you both manage to free yourselves. There’s a blush on both of your faces, yours is certainly from anger, raging at the sudden turn of events and the sheer humiliation at falling, and ashamed that you had stooped to his level and raced him, like a toddler.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
You were raised better. For goodness sake, your mother would keel over and die if she saw you sprinting in a park, almost pushing an old lady out of the way just to beat your fiancé. God, you hate calling him that.
And you hate to admit even more that you might have actually enjoyed it.
Catharsis, that’s all it was.
Just a physical and mental need to let out the pressure building up from months of the most restrictive schedule, with the frequent dinners with stuffy guests, the constant handshaking and ass kissing, the indignity of it all.
Sometimes you wished you could be Murakami's Ice Man, maybe then you could rise above these petty emotions and let nothing bother you. But you aren’t free of your past. You’re defined by it.
Gojo isn’t meeting your eyes. He’s settled on adjusting his clothes and sunglasses, plucking leaves from his jacket, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something. But you don’t let him. You dash past and ignore his existence, like you should have done from the beginning, and head to your lecture.
Your hands are clenching and unclenching, neck creaking as you try to relieve the tension wound so tightly in your body you’re afraid you might combust. Everything about this is wrong.
An engagement with Gojo is one thing, but to like the feel of his body on you, is a whole other thing. It’s stupid and it’s dangerous. Just like your mother said, emotions have no place in a marriage. You only need respect, and sometimes not even that. And as much as you hate her Machiavellian attitudes to life, you understand. You need a husband who'll mind his own business. Gojo is not that kind of man.
The guy refused to be friends, despite the many opportunities and chances you had granted him, so you won't do yourself the disservice of seeking a friendship.
You will not let the ‘hottest guy on campus’ sway you. His charming grins and arrogant comebacks will not warm your chest, and his muscular frame will definitely not haunt your dreams. There’s too much riding on this arrangement, on you. You cannot be distracted.
Man might be condemned to be free, but that doesn't apply to women. Not women like you, anyways. Thanks for nothing, Sartre.
Those are the thoughts you come away with from the encounter.
Gojo, on the other hand, is still standing where you left him, hand rubbing his chest whilst lost in thought. His head is tilted, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge again as he watches your retreating figure.
It’s kinda hard to see your features through the pile of black clothing and accessories, but having been close enough to rub noses, he realised, you’re pretty. The kind of pretty that would inspire art, not that he knows much about that.
He licks his lips and he swears he can taste the sweetness of your scent lingering, and when he looks down on his chest, he also swears he felt the unmistakable sensation of small metal balls scraping at him through his thin jacket.
A Cheshire grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. He stuffs his hands in his pockets once more and carries on walking at a leisurely pace, a slight pep in his steps gained from a victory over a game he didn’t even realise he was playing. He strolls to class with just one thought filling his mind.
My future wifey’s got nipple piercings.
#jjk drabble#jjk fluff#Gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk crack#jjk x you#gojo satoru#jjk angst#Gojo angst
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late night writes… short & sweet
18+ SMUT
Imagine… Terry makes you say your affirmations after hearing you speak negatively about yourself.
“look in the mirror while i play with that pussy”
he instructed, using his free hand to bring your head forward until you locked eyes with your reflection. you sat in between his legs on the plush rug that covered the floor. legs wide open, kitty on full display dripping into the crack of your ass and onto your brand new rug. your knees were bent and rested against his as he stroked your cunt with his thick fingers, leaving a glossy coating on his knuckles that ran down his fingers. his middle and ring finger working you over as the seconds went by…
“tell daddy you’re pretty baby”
“i’m pretty” you cried out both from the insane amount of pleasure and the fact that just a few hours prior you were announcing the total opposite. with you working long hours and being a full time student, it was hard to find the time to get dolled up. solely focusing on not missing work or assignments, you made no time for yourself and as the days went by your confidence started to fade. so when he asked you to get dressed because he wanted to take you out to dinner, a celebration of finishing yet another semester, you expressed to him that you weren’t feeling the prettiest and that you weren’t up for a late night date… why did you do that?
“tell me how pretty you look while I’m playing in that pretty pussy.”
“I look so pretty daddy” a combination of a whine and a moan leaving your lips as you struggled to push out those words. he didn’t like when you spoke down on yourself. usually a simple conversation would take place and then you two would continue on with the day but the negative self talk was happening way too often for his liking. although he never missed a moment of praising you not only for your gorgeous looks as well as your intellect, your personality, and just simply being you, it wasn’t enough if you didn’t believe it yourself… so he had his way of making you believe it.
“daddy’s baby look beautiful all the time don’t she?”
“yessssssss.”
his deep voice praising and encouraging you while his strong arm flexed with each pump of his fingers, sending you into another dimension. you tried your hardest to recite your affirmations for him for a second time but he wasn’t making it an easy task. his fingers left your opening for a second and made way to your swollen clit, spreading your juices all over your sex.
“daddy don’t like when you say mean things about yourself and you know that.”
“i’m sorry daddy.” your face swirled with ecstasy and sorrow as he toyed your clit in circles with his fingers. your hole pulsating from the absence of his fingers, longing to be filled again. he continued his circles, making you watch his every move. the two of you sat, cheek to cheek, ear to ear, watching your own private show.
“look at my pretty girl” he smiled, noticing your confidence grow by the second as you stared at your own reflection. taking in every part of your body coupled with the vulnerability he was forcing you to bring to the forefront. you were never ugly, your body was never the problem, you just needed a little boost that’s all. “you fucking up your rug princess.”
“i don’t care daddy, i wanna cum! please!” you were on the brink and he was slowing down, why would he slow down?
“all fours, put that ass in the air!” he said, releasing you from his grasp and watching as you assumed the position. chest pressed against the floor, back arched, both hands on your ass, spreading yourself open so he could get a view of everything, exactly how he liked it. standing up on his knees, he pulled the waist band of his sweats down, letting his dick hang free. dragging his thickness down the slick of your lips, he grabbed onto your hips with one hand and slid into you until his balls were pressed firmly against your clit. you felt every. single. inch.
“uh un look at yourself and start over.” he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled back until you were staring directly into the mirror again. using his other hand to grip your throat, he demanded that you repeat your affirmations once again while he dug into you mercilessly.
‘i am beautiful’
‘i love my body.’
‘i love myself for who i am’
the list went on and on until he was pleased with you.
the more you spoke, the greater your desire to release was building. the sweet gushy sounds he was pulling from you was music to his ears. the feeling of his dick hitting your spot repeatedly along with his heavy sack slapping against your clit, you couldn’t hold it any longer.
“i love everything about myself” you cried out, finishing the last of your affirmations. “can i cum daddy? please, can i cum?” face twisted as you tried to wait for his permission, preparing yourself for the amazing feeling that was about to take you over.
“you can cum pretty girl”
“ahhhh, yes yes yes!” you yelled out in rhythm with his strokes. “don’t stop daddy, please don’t stop.”
“i won’t baby, get all that shit. you deserve it.” your eyes began to cross as you felt the flow running down your pussy, dripping onto the rug. you wanted so badly to collapse but the grip he had on your head kept you in place. your arms had given out a while ago. he kept going, ignoring the fact that you were already cumming profusely. “i don’t wanna hear that shit come out your mouth again.”
“it won’t daddy, i promise.” you cried out, practically pleading with him. you were overstimulated and damn near worn out, you didn’t think you could handle another one so soon. but he wasn’t slowing down, increasing his intensity with every thrust.
“you promise what?”
“i won’t be m-mean to myself a-again.” your breathing staggered as you tried your best to respond to him. you gasped from the feeling that was returning once again, the strong urge was coming so fast. you didn’t have time to brace yourself. you could hear yourself cumming all over him, making a total mess on his pants and the floor.
“oh my godddddd.” he continued pressing into you while at the same time soothing you, caressing your cheek with his thumb. he slowed his movements, finally coming to a stop as he watched your body shake under his grasp. carefully resting your head onto the floor, his hand slid down the length of your back, caressing your hips while you struggled to catch your breath.
“you alright pretty girl?”
“yes daddy.”
#aaron pierre#terry richmond fic#terry richmond#aaron pierre fanfiction#aaron pierre x black fem reader#rebel ridge#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre fic#terry richmond x black female reader
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sex therapy :: 31. gangbangs
summary: a very self-indulgent chapter/pseudo-oneshot. **naoya’s ex-wife becomes toji’s girl. everybody wants a taste, and why not have the younger cousin watch the show?** alternatively, a gangbang with tattooed dilfs and dilf-adjacents.
chapter tags/warnings: five-some, gangbang, sex on tape, gun play (becoming a gun slut), cum play, breeding, creampies, exhibitionism, edging, degradation, praising, mentions of violence (murder, knives, guns), multiple orgasms.
word count: 5.5k
notes: happy kinktober and thank you for waiting! this started off as a concept (in my mind for a year-plus) and evolved into…a monster. too many men, too many hands, too many cocks. got lost in the sauce. despite being a smut chapter in a long fic, this update is borderline porn-without-plot. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo
fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.
“I love getting gangbanged."
Naoya woke up in a dark room and to a throbbing headache.
Where…?
He looked around the unfamiliar surroundings slowly, blinking past his grogginess to register what almost looked like a crime movie’s interrogation room and groaning when the wrong angle to his head caused a sharp pain in his shoulder.
All around was an ominous and gloomy shade of gray—the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and heck even the door. How long had he been out for? Without windows, he could not take a wild guess at the time. Not to mention that the room also had no lighting, no pictures, and no décor.
Only him and this...random dinky chair he found himself tied up to.
Wait.
Tied up to?
Right. From what Naoya could last recall, he had been stopped by two men who took him out with a single strike.
In a vain attempt to set himself free, Naoya tugged at his limbs which were fastened behind him with sturdy cords. He twisted and turned, then twisted harder and turned even harder, until an unexpected voice startled him.
“You’re awake.”
Naoya went still.
Having zero visual stimuli sharpened Naoya’s other senses a little. He could feel the labored huffs in his breathing, hear the heavy footsteps that began in the chamber, and even taste the smoke that lingered in the hazy air.
Leering towards the door, Naoya quickly recognized his captors as they approached.
"Don’t give us that foul look, sleepyhead," the taller one whom he remembered as Eso announced as he slowly stopped in front of the scowling blonde. He had on him a wide and nefarious grin. "You had passed out for the last few hours. During that time, you could've been beaten. Or better yet, dead." He glanced up. "Right, Kechizu?"
His accomplice, who stopped on the opposite side, replied with a firm nod. From seemingly nowhere, he had pulled out a pocket knife and grazed the icy blade against Naoya's neck. "Ya feel that? I've been wanting to slit your throat, but I haven't. Lucky, lucky duck. Not everyone is this fortunate. All because our big bro Choso is being super nice to you."
Aware that a wrong move would cost him a jugular vein, Naoya listened intently. Since he worked with the other sex therapists before, he indeed recalled how his former colleague led a tightly-knit assassin ring, in which the members deemed each other 'brothers.'
Kechizu prodded Naoya again with his blade. "Big bro's the only reason you're still alive. Although, I don't know why you'd want to still be breathing now that the whole world knows you've been bumping uglies with your older cousin's ex-wife."
Eso hummed in agreement. "Well, at least for now," he began and he gestured around in vague motions, “you're already in paradise!” Then, he paused. “Well, correction. Here is where we send people to paradise. Or, more likely, hell.”
Noticing how Naoya uncharacteristically froze, the two snickered. In fact, they likely would've continued snickering if not for a shrill tone that pierced the air. The laughter stopped.
Eso's charcoal eyes flicked downwards.
"Left pocket, Kechizu."
The other man obeyed, lowering his knife (and thus giving Naoya an actual chance to breathe) before grabbing the phone from Naoya's blazer. A notification lit up the screen—a message, from you.
“She sent a video.”
Eso and Kechizu intentionally held the screen away, and their face quickly lit up with a sinister smile when they previewed the file. “Oh, yeah. Let's watch.”
“Come join us, sweetheart.”
You thought you were discreet.
Lingering at the doorway, you had been peering into the Zenin Corporation’s CEO Suite like a lost duck. This past afternoon, news about the leadership changes within Japan’s largest conglomerate had spread like wildfire across business and politics networks across the globe, announcing that Naoya Zenin had been forced to resign with Toji Fushiguro reclaiming his position as head of the company.
For the latter, you had questions—many questions. However, an inundated Toji was difficult to approach as he spent his entire afternoon in the office with his also-reinstated directors Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. From your observations, the men had been milling around the table, speaking to each other in hushed but decisive voices in conversations that must remind them of their days managing the Zenin Corporation before Naoya’s takeover.
They all appeared ridiculously handsome with their expensive custom-tailored suits that emphasized their muscular physiques and complemented their towering heights. Surrounded by legal documents and business reports, they carried themselves differently, too. More mature, organized, and serious, especially after hectic meetings with the Chairman Naobito Zenin, your COO father, and internal and external stakeholders had left etches on their calculating faces.
Now, however, Toji Fushiguro had caught sight of your quivering form at the entrance, and soon enough, all eyes turned to you. When you didn’t respond to his first invitation, the executive approached you in confident strides.
“Why do you look so shy?”
At the unanticipated attention, you averted your gaze onto the floor and tried to slink away into the hall slowly. “You all seemed occupied, and I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You're not interrupting anything," he clarified. "We have some time now.”
He tugged your wrist softly, which was all that you needed to follow him like a fawn into the room and crumble onto his lap once he sat down. Despite his dress pants, the warmth from his thighs heated your skin, and Toji nuzzled his face into your neck. His gravelly huffs sounded like all the other times you had heard him rasp, moments followed by endless endearment.
"About Naoya," the older man brought up from seemingly nowhere. You tensed at the name while Toji's cordial lips assuaged you. "Choso’s brothers are making sure he’s not going to do anything funny. We can't have him around as we are transitioning the company. As for you...knowing my cousin, he's going to keep claiming you as his property unless you get through his dense head," and his viridescent pupils flicked upward, "and the only way to do that is to show him.”
Although you didn’t know exactly what he meant, Toji hoisted you in one fluid motion onto his desk and sprawled you across the surface. He pushed your thighs apart, prompting sharp breaths that echoed in the room as onlookers raked their eyes down your figure. Some (namely, Sukuna and Geto) peered down shamelessly, while others (just Choso, really) tried to come off as cool and observed quietly. Nonetheless, the message in their perverted gazes was clear: what they wouldn't give to kiss you, bite you, and mark you right then and there.
Just as you shrank a little from the overwhelming attention, Toji reached for your phone and pressed the device firmly into your palm.
“Let’s send him a message.” Toji’s eyes locked onto yours, unflinching and sharp.
You blinked, raising an incredulous brow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Leaning forward, Toji offered a clear view of the ink scrolling down his neck, his exhales warm against the beading cold sweat on your forehead. “Open up the camera. Let's send Naoya Zenin a surprise.” He gently pinched you. "Like I said, that idiot wouldn't understand shit unless you slam the idea into his dumb skull.”
You hesitated, glancing down at the phone in your hand.
“A photo won't be enough, by the way. We need a video. He won't get the fucking idea unless he sees and hears the proof.” When you complied, Toji turned to the colleague closest to him. "Wanna do the honors, Suguru?"
The said man came forward eagerly, the obsidian in his eyes sparkling. "'No' is never my answer to you, sir." Given your compromising position, he had the easy option to tear your lacy panties and stuff himself into your core except he wanted to take his time.
"I heard a lot about you." His compliments were all purrs that sent hot shivers shooting through your veins. "Mind if I take a go at you, too?"
After being passed between his three other colleagues, you must admit that you had at least thought about what sex with Geto was like, too. "Please."
At the permission, the man smiled and bunched your underwear to one side. The cold air hitting your drenched cunt made you shiver, but the collective groan in the room rumbled even louder, a reminder of the many men around you. Men who were being patient for you. Men who could not stop thinking about you. Men who, because of your ex-husband, had been holding grudges against you.
Geto pulled down his boxers just until the waistband fitted snugly under his balls. His cock stood proud with precum dribbling down his length as he positioned himself in the comfy spot between your thighs. He pressed against the table until his knuckles turned white, aligning himself with your entrance.
Without extra stimulation, your saturated folds welcomed him easily and you gasped loudly at the intrusion.
"Shit, you’re soaking," Geto sighed softly as you clenched around him, swarming his veins with gratification. He tipped his head forward, his loose strands framing his face. “Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He was so sweet, so kind. You nodded and hazily recognized that this was what making love was supposed to feel like: tender, gentle, and loving. This was Suguru Geto's charm.
Before you could say more, an opportunistic Sukuna took his place above you. He moved quickly, undoing his belt and tugging hastily at his trousers, humming loudly with relief when he pulled his pants down and his massive cock sprang free. Despite being jostled by another man, you swabbed at the bubbling precum before pushing your thumb into your mouth, relishing his clean and salty tinge on your tongue.
Amused, Sukuna chuckled darkly. "What a fucking tease," he crowed, then patting your cheek. "C'mon. Open up, baby. Let me get to the back of your throat."
With little resistance, he popped your jaw open and sank his massive girth into your mouth. Gradually, you bobbed your head back and forth, letting your tongue lick every millimeter to him. He, likewise, pushed his hips forward, bringing your nose flushed against his well-trimmed patch of pink hair. He plucked the recording phone from your hands, and you sensed him tapping on the screen to focus on the erotic display where your bodies connected, your sinful lips accepting his fat cock with ease.
"You are such a good girl." Sukuna Ryomen confirmed, his movements mind-numbing as though he wanted to breed your esophagus. He wrapped a hand around your windpipe, constricting your airflow and causing you to gag. "Brat looks like a goddamn goddess sucking dick. Isn't that right, Choso?"
No response.
Curious, your pupils rolled to the side.
The assassin's the man you feared the most.
He was quiet, always guarded, his mysterious eyes pulling you in like two black holes. You could never know what he’s thinking about, although you lucidly remember his crooked obsession with 'disciplining' you.
"Hey, honey.” Geto's deft fingers suddenly gripped your chin, forcing your gaze to return to him. “Pay attention to us, m'kay?"
You hummed in response, Sukuna’s dick still bulging visibly in your throat.
"I don’t want you to lose focus," an overly aroused Suguru went on to explain. He breathed heavily. Shaking. Or maybe that was you? He clutched your love handles harshly before he pulled out and stepped to the side, making you stroke himself with your delicate hands instead. Briefly, you assumed that Geto preferred handjobs and wanted to ejaculate onto your breasts, only to get your answer when your puffy clit came into contact with the sharp coolness from…metal?
"Choso," Toji's harsh voice warned.
Brought back to your senses, you looked down to see Choso using the fluids to lubricate...his gun. You recognized the weapon, the same one you had seen in his car. The same one he would use to kill. All air in your lungs left swiftly. What the actual fuck. Sheer mortification was the only reason you didn't have the guts to do anything (because, if Choso became irritated enough, he could pull the trigger and then you would have no guts at all), and your silence only gave him a reason to continue defiling you into his personal gun slut.
He stared at his boss with an unperturbed frown. "You know I like her too much to hurt her."
A squeal tumbled past your lips when the pistol's freezing barrel pressed past your tight hole. Although you partially expected Toji to warn the weapon-wielding man again, Toji instead leaned forward in his chair, jaw resting on his fist. He could seem more concerned, but the mirthful glimmer in his emerald eyes said otherwise.
Meanwhile, Choso's piercing gaze alone made you sweaty, your forehead turned glossy with a sheen. He lazily massaged your inner walls, your warm arousal coating his cool metal before leaking onto the table, the only struggle now was how your body involuntarily twitched. To your fascination (and horror), pleasure began to build with each too-hard pass of his barrel. There were just too many sensations going on. Messy mouth deepthroating one cock, slicked hands stroking another, and sloppy cunt taking in a gun. You did your best to give everybody equal attention because you were a desperate crowd-pleaser, not wanting anyone to feel left out.
With your back arched from the table, you became increasingly frantic, demonstrating through feverish movements that all you were was their obedient little bitch. All these hands on your body, skin on your skin. You felt them all, the senses exhilarating and fascinating.
Toji sternly interrupted from seemingly nowhere. “I can tell from your movements that you want to cum, don’t you?” Maybe, but you were too overwhelmed to focus solely on your pleasure. Nothing that your therapists couldn't help with. Leaning over, Toji snaked an arm around your body to press tight circles at your engorged clit. "Be selfish for a little bit," he coaxed. "Cum for us."
His permission sent you immediately vaulting over the edge, your whole body spasming as an orgasm tore through you. Your lips parted, but you didn't scream. Your eyes shut slowly and rolled to the back of your head as every millimeter in your fragile body unraveled completely—fluttering, cramping, and shuddering.
Your ears became blessed with chorused laughter and praise.
Choso inspected your copious juices that suddenly coated his gun, a translucent thread trailing from the barrel to your now-exposed cunt. Reaching over, Sukuna wrapped his hand around Choso's forearm. He leaned into the pistol and parted his lips, swirling his tongue slowly around the barrel. His maroon eyes were half-lidded, giving him an almost lazy yet focused look as he dragged his tongue along the metal, lapping up your precious essences—the syrups rich and just a bit tangy. Drooling and sucking like a little kid with a lollipop, Sukuna didn't care that his spit trailed from the metal down to the other man's wrist and flipped the camera to selfie mode to capture the action.
Towards the end, his tongue swiped over his lips, leaving a luster from your elixir that coated his mouth. “So fuckin’ sweet.”
After another generous lick, he swished the concoction in his mouth before pinching your chin, and your mouth propped open. Pleased, he hummed when you stuck your tongue out, showcasing just how naughty you were. He drooled the spittle into your mouth, the saline taste blossoming on your taste buds, a thread of spit connecting your chin and his.
"Sharing," Sukuna chuckled darkly into your phone's microphone, "is absolutely fucking caring."
Nearby, Suguru groaned. He hurriedly clambered to the comfy space between your plush thighs, shoving a grumbling Choso aside. "I'm so fucking close."
He buried his dick into your tunnel, the veins on his cock pulsating. Call him selfish or masochistic, but as much as he wanted to reach his high, Geto denied his orgasm to stay longer inside and prevented himself from fucking bursting.
“Don't hold back, Suguru,” you urged.
Geto furrowed his brows, sweat gathering on his forehead as he tried his best to hold out. He admitted earnestly, "I don't want to give you up, baby.”
“I want you to cum,” you said, all whiny with puppy eyes. Free hand slithering down, you cupped his aching balls and gently squeezed his heavy testes. "Besides,” you glanced over at the camera, “show Naoya how you can breed me…daddy."
Sugaru’s eyes widened at the unexpected nickname that he loved so much. That’s it. He’s done for. His handsome features crumpled from an over-the-top pleasure as he gave his snapping hips one final push and pumped you full, coating your cervix white with his thick essence as he rested his head against your forehed, panting into your ear and moaning into your skin.
Pressing one last kiss on your cheekbone, he pulled himself out of your hot cunt, allowing others to have their way with you.
Sukuna got behind you eagerly. He repositioned your shaking body, his calloused hands tossing you over and leaving you panting on your hands and knees. His harsh squeeze at your sides made you squeal just as he pulled your legs apart for easier access, exposing your cute hole.
"Shit, she's making a mess, dripping onto the desk." The same desk that belonged to Naoya merely several hours ago. Adjusting your phone camera, Sukuna thumbed through your folds like they were pages in a book, scoffing at the viscous dallops that slid out. The tattoos on his wrists gleamed pitch black under the glossy mixed juices.
"Suguru's cock did you well, but this pretty lady isn't finished yet, eh? She can take more. I know she can." His hands weaved into your hair and tugged harshly. "Tell us, missy. You can handle more, correct?"
The threat in his menacing tone only suggested there was one answer. You whimpered pathetically, "Yes."
With a crooked smile, Sukuna pressed his muscular form against your back. That man was starving. After all, he had been waiting to have your pussy properly wrapped around his painful erection when he could've greedily taken you for himself first.
"Stop moving so I can angle myself correctly," Sukuna reprimanded when you wobbled on all fours.
Hardly any time was given to let you register the warning before the man plunged into your sensitive socket. He ignored your desperate wail, amazed at how he plugged you all the way. His pace started off sensual and languid. Each snug press against your battered cervix at first made you squeak, but you became too far caught up in the moment that the discomfort disappeared as promptly as the sensation came.
"Mhm," Sukuna hummed, a squelch ringing through the room each time he would bottom out. He didn't need to say anything for him to feel how wet you were, fluids trickling out from your puffy hole and creating what looked like the Nile River running down your thighs.
"Holy fuck," Choso swore to the side, his emotions a rare display.
Blissful waves rushed to your head, one after another. Arousal flooded into your tummy, your cunt twitching uncontrollably as a second climax started to sneak up on you.
Sukuna groaned—or at least attempted to groan—through the exertion of his forceful movements. How he had missed playing with you. A few trickles of sweat on his forehead glided over the ink on his forehead before dripping onto your back. He pumped himself faster, his balls smacking against your clit harder—savoring how you squirmed underneath his direct influence.
He could not resist peering down at the sacred space where your bodies connected and ensured that the camera, too, had an unobscured view. The problem was he had become so agonizingly turned on that his hold on your phone began shaking. He rasped, back straightening. “Goddamn, your cunny does me good.”
Not long after, he reached his release snarling and grunting like a dog as white ropes shot from his cock and into your uterus, with him nearly dropping your device onto your ass from his sheer ecstasy.
"No!" you protested loudly when Sukuna pulled out abruptly, hissing as your empty hole clenched around nothing. "I..." You balled your fists, thumping the desk in frustration. "I was so fucking close."
"Don't worry." The strawberry-haired man tenderly brushed away the tears by your jaw. Like he hoped to comfort you somehow. "Nothing Choso can't help with. He'll take great care of you." He looked over at the said colleague. “Isn’t that right?”
Gulping, you followed his gaze to the other man who had stopped behind you.
"You look nervous," Choso commented matter-of-factly. "Why?"
As if he didn’t already know the answer. You rolled your eyes and snorted like a true brat, indeed. "None of your business."
Besides, you had enough encounters with Choso Kamo, each incident more indecent than the last. This time, he naturally noticed your eyes drift to the gun tucked into his back pocket, the saps from earlier creating an ample moist patch on his pants.
“So, tell me, bimbo," Choso spoke again. He didn't care to announce himself as he unbuckled and pressed in, stretching you with his thickness, aided by your copious reserve containing both arousal and cum, hitting that sweet spot that he had no problem finding over and over. "Did you think I had been done with you already?"
Holding in whimpers from his repeated thrusts, you let out a soft groan.
"I can't hear you."
"Yes."
“But, do you want me?”
Silence.
“I am not going to repeat my—”
"I want you s’ badly..."
A demon must have possessed you. There was no other way to explain yourself. But those remarks were all Choso needed before he began to move impossibly fast within you. He didn’t care that he pounded into you like a beast, creating a commotion that perhaps the floor below could hear your wetness reverberate around the room.
"This is for being a fucking tease." Choso raised his hand high and then delivered an unforgiving blow against your ass. Unprepared, you yelped from the sheer force, which had been enough to leave a handprint on your unblemished cheeks.
"I didn't—!" Your attempt to defend proved futile as Choso spanked you again with little regard for your feelings.
"This is for giving me an attitude," he continued, gruff. And again. "For forgetting how to behave, shit." And again, and again, and again. For this, for that, his listed grievances going on and on and on, his punishments making you cry and squirm and wail.
Choso knew he was selfish. If his boss Toji wasn't involved, he would want nothing more than to keep you forever, making you his little gun slut and teaching you to cum all over him. He couldn’t help it. As if the roles were reversed. Like he was the inexperienced one, unaware of his partner's feelings and only caring for his pleasure. He remained relentless as he continued his abuse, the tendons along his hands and arms flexing with his efforts, like the crazed killer he was being out for blood.
The distressed expression written all over your face only made him want to go harder. He loved making it hurt, his sadistic personality entirely to blame. With every pump, his testes smacked onto your clit repeatedly, feeling him sink deeper and deeper inside.
“F-Fuck—S’ too much, Choso!” A sob wracked your trembling figure amidst his assault. In distress, you tugged at his wrists to get him to ease up on you. That didn't matter. He was too strong, especially when compared to you.
"I thought you wanted to cum."
"I do!" But you didn't think you would be able to cum like this. "This...This is too painful!"
As if he cared.
"Oh, please," Choso scoffed, even rolling his inky eyes in dismissal. "This isn't painful. You're just being dramatic. If you think this is painful...how do you think I felt, hm? Watching Geto and Sukuna take turns defiling you. Hearing you blubber their names without shame. Did you think that I—with my cock stiff in my pants—that I didn't feel pain? Listen to yourself. God, turns out you're just another selfish slut."
Scorching tears streamed down your face, and you searched around desperately.
"No one here's going to save you," Choso announced, reading right through you. He pressed his face against your earlobe, a hot puff of air fanning out across your delicate skin. "Because it's too obvious. You fucking like this, pup."
Did you?
Even if that wasn't the case, you guess you did now, the unwavering conviction in Choso's tone spurring a change of heart. It’s sick, you realized, he’s manipulating me.
Yet, sure enough, you soon started to feel lighter, giddier. Your pupils dilated from stimulation and your muscles tingled with excitement. Choso felt so good. You felt so good, and the coil from deep within your cervix compressed tighter and tighter as a pressure built from within.
"I'm close...again." This time, it's a little embarrassing to admit, especially when you were complaining like a puppy just minutes ago.
"What did I tell you, pet," Choso growled, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a rare grin. He made you feel glorious. Consequently, you writhed underneath his body, fully submissive under his control. You wanted nothing more than to be a pliant baby girl for him, let him use you in any way he wants. "Cum and squeeze my cock."
“Make me.”
“Oh?”
One final blow to your ass was what hurled your body over the edge.
“I—” you choked on your spit. "I'm coming!"
You shrieked the moment you felt your body disintegrate, your shoulder blades caving in as sweat fell like raindrops from your skin. Elbows giving up, your head hit the table, leaving your temples pulsing with dizziness, bliss, and pain; your eyes staring at the wood finishing; your chest rising up and down, exasperated from the intensity of your release.
And oh, your pussy squeezed Choso good. Before he could hold himself back, Choso dug his nails into your ass. "Fuck, you are incredible," was the last thing he muttered before he came as well in one long grunt, splattering your womb with his creamy semen. He made you tremble when he pulled out, releasing the mess inside and leaving you feeling oddly empty and cold. Glob after glob of cum oozed out, semen from multiple perpetrators painting over your labia, which made the surrounding men grin at the sight, knowing that you held all their seed inside.
Nothing except their breeding hole, that was what you had become. There was something they adored about labeling you as their personal whore.
Not long afterward, a warm hand took yours into his own. Toji caressed the skin of your palm before pulling you right onto his lap again. In the end, he was whom you belonged to. If anybody wanted to do anything to you, they had to talk to him first.
Toji helped you straddle him, tucking one leg onto his either side, except you were so fucked out that you didn’t know who you were or where you were from.
"C'mon, honey. Don't lose yourself just yet," he murmured gently, brushing a few free strands from your forehead. Otherwise, you would've gone limp and lost all senses completely.
Toji had been waiting for you. He considered this a sign of his maturity, allowing the younger and more impatient men to make a mess with you first. Now, though, was his turn, fair and square.
His exposed length pressed up against his abdomen with fantastic girth and length such that—despite your current state—your pupils went heart-eyed and your mouth drooled from sight alone. He loved when you made that expression, one he had seen countless times in his dreams; a guilty pleasure in reality. He chortled at your sharp gasps, finding you adorable even after being stuffed by several men.
However, just when you didn't think you could handle more, his red-flushed head brushed over your clit and jolted your veins with the familiar wave of arousal. You shifted, the sticky mess between your legs uncomfortable. In a brief moment of lucidity, you had an epiphany. With one hand resting on Toji's shoulder, you reached down with the other to spread your folds, biting your lip as you clamped down on your sensitive walls hard.
Sure enough, a generous amount of cum trickled out of your used cunt, oozing onto Toji’s cockhead and sliding down gradually to his balls.
"Holy shit."
Eyes grew wide with surprise, jaws dropped in reaction to your nasty actions. Since when did you learn to become so dirty? Flushed cheeks betrayed their interest as they continued their lustful staring. Generous was what you were, letting them ogle like schoolchildren for a few moments longer before you scooped up the slick and began to suck on your fingers. Softly, you hummed at the succulent flavors concocted by you, Suguru, Sukuna, and Choso combined.
"Next up is you."
“So fuckin’ filthy," Toji praised with utter adoration.
As you continued, you made sure not to break eye contact as you subtly rutted your sopping cunt against his tip. You coyly batted your long lashes in his direction, making sure he could feel the liquids running down his cock and the throbbing pussy that awaited him.
You smiled. "All yours, Dr. Fushiguro."
He suddenly grew smitten at how polite you could be, and using his hands as a guide, he helped you sink into him slowly. “Goddamn.” The sound that emerged from him was wholly obscene, a carnal desperation only matched by your movements, your thighs constricting his hips and your eyes rolling backward. How cozy, you discovered yourself to be, snug at his hilt. Toji had filled you all the way but a few centimeters of his cock remain, his tip already kissing against your spent uterus.
Something about knowing that his little cousin would watch this made Toji want to do everything to push deeper into you. He started by rocking your waist against a rhythm, and a near-pornographic mewl escaped your lips when his shaft ran over an especially sensitive spot, the ridges rubbing against your cavern and sending pleasure through your every limb. He hummed at the way you squealed and loved how expressive you were with your body and feelings.
His tongue laved across your shoulder before stopping over your collarbone. "You'll still go back to Naoya after this?"
"Absolutely not," you mumbled with sincerity. "I would hate myself if I did."
“Excellent,” he slurred, his spit drooling down your back from where his mouth had latched onto your neck. “That’s…exactly what I wanted to hear, baby.”
Baby. Your eyes squeezed shut, responding with a whine. Although the overstimulation was originally uncomfortable, you began to feel satisfaction cut through the soreness once again as your body prepared for one more climax. You rocked your hips in need, like an animal in heat, a sight that would certainly drive your ex-husband crazy. “F-Feels,” you paused to pant, “Feels good.”
“Fuck.” Toji gritted out, breaking through his cacophony of crude moaning and effectively searing your skin. He continued steering your body in the rhythm he learned you liked, his nails nearly piercing your skin despite their bluntness. He cupped your jaw harshly. “What are you to us, sweetheart?”
“Oh.” You laughed a little, clearly delirious, and then replied. “'M your cumdump.”
“Say that again.”
“I—”
“Louder.” The emeralds in his heavy-lidded eyes skated briefly to the phone. “I want everyone to hear.”
So, you mustered all your energy to give your final answer—and the correct answer. "I am your cum dumpster!"
Toji started saying something, chuckling maybe, but his words weren’t clear even as he tossed his head back. His breathing was deep, wet, and sexy, and he was no doubt blistering hot in his business blazer, his slicked-back hair soaked with sweat and hanging limply in front of his flushed face. His expression, on the other hand, was what got you the most; his eyes drawn shut, his brows slightly pinched, his mouth just barely parted.
He panted, raising his head to lock lips with yours, moaning into your mouth lewdly before pulling back, and admiring your fucked out expression, face heated and sweating.
“Shit, you’re too good to me,” was the last thing Toji sighed before he added to your womb with his hot cum, his grip on your body tightening as his balls twitched and lodged his precious seed into the sacred cavern. Pussy clamping down, you milked him, not willing to let a single drop go to waste, gasping when the explosive warmth made you shatter with him, leaving you hiccuping and spasming until you were just jolting and crying out from the stretched muscles in your body.
Overheated, you slumped forward. Sweat rolled uncomfortably down your back, spit smeared across your neck and shoulders and chin.
But you looked up and giggled at your latest discovery.
“I love getting gangbanged."
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end notes: I spent way more time preparing this chapter than I expected, writing, rewriting, and editing. Adding, shortening, then adding again. (At some point, this was nearly 7K words.) This is far from perfect, but I must relinquish myself. Thank you again for reading!
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Heaven knows
Gojo x Reader Genre: fluff, angst Summary: A glimpse of you and Satoru's relationship before you finally get married. wc: 5.3k a/n: this is set after they defeated Sukuna! so 2018. Nobody died <3
The grand doors swung open, and there you were, framed by the soft glow of sunlight streaming in behind you. In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, and so did he. You were radiant, ethereal in the way only you could be, adorned in your wedding dress that seemed to shimmer with its own light.
You look exactly like an angel.
It was like heaven had come down in the form of you— a miracle that Satoru Gojo is privileged enough to see.
1999
You had marched up right up to him on the first day of school, unimpressed by the murmurs of your classmates around you.
“Satoru, right?” You asked, giving him a warm smile despite the dismissive look he gave you.
“I am Y/N!” You announced excitedly as you extended a tiny hand toward him.
He didn’t shake your hand, just stared at it with a displeased look.
It was the first time someone called him by his first name who isn’t a part of his clan.
But before he could even respond or point out your audacity to call him by his first name, you proceeded into a rambling monologue about the first time you two had met.
He blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing in slight suspicion as he debated whether to bully you or ignore you. The memory you described was extremely vague to him—something about your clan visiting his, something that he doesn’t even think worth remembering.
“You don’t remember, do you?” you teased, tilting your head with a grin, completely ignoring his lack of response. “Your clan was so serious when my family visited. And you just sat there! All boring and serious too, like the world was ending.”
His brows furrowed and he crossed his arms, “I wasn’t boring!”
“You were! You were talking about tech a nick or something and responsibilities, you didn’t want to play.”
“I did have responsibilities,” he muttered defensively, his chest puffing out slightly. “And it’s technique, you weirdo.”
“Sure,” you replied with a shrug, your grin never fading. “Wanna prove you’re not boring by watching Digimon with me?”
That seemed to catch his interest. Hesitantly, he lets you take his hand to lead him where you want to go.
From that day on, it felt like his life truly had begun when you granted him with your sunshine. For the first time in his life, Satoru wasn’t pressured to be anything he needed to be. You made him feel normal, something he didn’t even know he wanted until then.
You were his first best friend. You were the first person who saw him for who he truly was, not what he represented or what he’s destined to be.
The world had never quite felt right anymore unless you were in it.
2007
Satoru has changed over the years. The roles between you had reversed; you were the calm and steady one now. Gone was the stiff, overly serious boy you met when you were kids. Now, he was obnoxious and loud, and painfully obsessed with you.
But despite all this, he was still your Satoru.
Satoru always knew that he felt strongly about you, he just wasn’t sure what it was exactly. All he knew was that he likes it when you look at him, the way your voice softens when you speak to him, and how your touch—even the slighted brush of your fingers, is something that he desperately craves.
He never passes up an opportunity to pull out lame excuses just to touch you, which earns several eye rolls from your circle of friends.
“Your hair’s messy,” he’d say, brushing an imaginary strand from your forehead and then putting an arm around your shoulders to ‘keep your hair in place.’ Or dramatically say (with an arm around your waist) ‘come hold my hand, what if an ugly scary curse comes over to kill me?’ just so he could imagine (and plot) so many more moments where he can hold you.
Everyone knew about it too. It was impossible not to notice. Satoru wasn’t exactly subtle about the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. It was an open secret that you’d eventually get married anyway. You were practically glued to his side—at lunch, in class, during missions. Even Suguru would tease him mercilessly about it.
“Insufferable. You two are insufferable.” Suguru said one afternoon, groaning at the sight of you and Satoru feeding each other mochi during lunch break.
Satoru just fluttered his eyes mockingly at him before he pulled you closer to him, practically hugging you. You didn’t pull away, like always. It never occurred to him that you might just like him back because of how much you don’t mind it when he’s hogging your personal space.
Eventually, all those constant ‘we’re just friends’ seem to wear on Satoru.
He felt ridiculous. Satoru Gojo, bearer of the six eyes, rendered weak by your touch.
Friends didn’t make his chest tighten every time they smiled, didn’t make his stomach flip with a single laugh. Friends didn’t leave him awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying the way your head rested on his shoulder or how your hand lingered just a second too long on his arm. Friends certainly didn’t steal the air from his lungs the way you did every time you walked into a room. No, it was only you.
And then there was the kiss.
It happened during one of your movie nights.
It started as a joke—when you asked him about his worst kiss so far.
Poor Satoru was blushing profusely when you asked him that question. At the back of his mind, he wanted his first kiss to be you.
But he couldn’t say that, of course. So instead, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I don’t kiss and tell,”
You raised an eyebrow, your grin widening as you saw right through him. “Oh my god,” you gasped, sitting up straighter. “You’ve never kissed anyone, have you?”
“What?” Satoru scoffed, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I’ve kissed someone.”
Your eyes narrowed, sparkling with amusement. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying!” he protested, his blush deepening.
“Uh-huh,” you said, unconvinced. “If you’re not lying, then why are you blushing?”
“I’m not blushing!”
“You’re totally blushing.”
He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Of course I’ve kissed someone!”
“Prove it, then.”
The challenge hung in the air between you, crackling like electricity.
“Prove it?” he echoed, his voice faltering for the first time. “Maybe I should show you to shut you up.”
You rolled your eyes but there’s something about the way you looked at him that caught him off guard, “You’re so full of yourself, Satoru.”
There was a pause, the teasing atmosphere suddenly shifting into something heavier, quieter.
“...We could try it,” You said, your voice a bit nervous. He gulped when he noticed the seriousness in your voice.
After a moment, your eyes met his.
“For practice,” you added quickly, as if saying it out loud would make it true.
And he just nodded at your dumb excuse. “For practice,” he repeated, nodding as if he’s convincing himself.
Neither of you moved at first. The air between you seemed to thicken, the rooftop suddenly too quiet except for the distant hum of the city below.
“Okay,” you murmured, leaning in slightly.
“Okay,” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your faces were close now, close enough that you could see the nervous flicker in his usually confident blue eyes. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of mint and whatever candy he’d been eating earlier.
Then, your lips met.
It was soft—tentative at first, like you were both afraid to mess it up. His hand hovered awkwardly near your jaw, unsure whether to touch you or not. You leaned into him just a little, testing the waters, and he followed your lead.
Your lips are soft, too soft. In fact, he wants to keep practicing with you just so he could feel your lips on his again.
It lasted only a few seconds before you both pulled away, blinking at each other like you’d just crossed some invisible line neither of you could unsee. He tried to play it cool by shoving his feelings down after, giving you a shit-eating grin you love to roll your eyes at.
It was extremely hard for him to get his shit together when all that he could think about was that moment. He looked like a fool when he kept stealing glances at you every chance he got.
but what is this feeling exactly?
He just wanted to be by your side all the time, to go where you want to go as long as he can have you near.
And it wasn’t until Shoko mentioned that you were going on a date that Satoru finally admitted to himself that it was not platonic— the feelings he had been bubbling up inside him since he was nine.
“She’s what?” he asked, nearly choking on his drink.
“Going on a date,” Shoko repeated, her tone maddeningly nonchalant as she exhaled a stream of smoke. “Some non-sorcerer asked her out.”
Satoru froze, the glass in his hand halfway to his lips. A sharp, unfamiliar knot twisted in his chest.
“No way.” he said, though the doubt and the pitch in his voice betrayed him. “No fucking way. You’re joking, right?”
“She already said yes,” Shoko added, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk. “Maybe you should stop being an idiot and do something about it.”
The words hit him like a sucker punch, and he hated how his brain instantly imagined you with someone else—laughing, smiling, being exactly the way you were with him, but for someone else.
Satoru didn’t even think—his body moved before his mind caught up, and before he knew it, he teleported directly to your room for the first time, barely managing to stick the landing.
The soft hum of music filled the air, and you were perched in front of your mirror, carefully applying your makeup. You didn’t notice him at first because you were too focused on lining your lips (and staring directly into the abyss).
He leaned against your doorframe, his heart pounding harder than any fight he’d been in.
“Cancel your date,” he blurted out.
You jolted, spinning around so fast you almost knocked over a perfume bottle. “What the hell, Satoru?! What are you doing here? And how did you even get in?”
He ignored your questions, stepping closer to you. “I mean it—don’t go. Please?”
You blinked at him, your expression shifting from surprise to confusion. “What are you talking about? Why do you care?”
“Because it’s a waste of time,”
Your arms crossed defensively, your gaze hardening as you tilted your head, demanding answers. “And why’s that?
“Because... because…” he began, his voice trailing off as frustration bubbled to the surface. His icy blue eyes locked with yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
“Because I like you, alright?” he finally confessed. His voice was raw, unguarded, and louder than he intended, but he couldn’t stop now. “There. I said it.”
The confession hung in the air between you, the weight of it pressing down on his chest. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he watched your reaction, searching for any sign of how you felt.
Your gaze softened, and to his surprise, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
“You’re such an idiot,” you said, shaking your head.
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, shoulders slumping as he braced himself for rejection.
But then you stepped closer, the teasing edge in your voice replaced by something gentler. “No, Satoru. I mean, it took you long enough.”
His eyes snapped up to meet yours, wide with disbelief. “Wait... what?”
The way you smiled at him then—soft, genuine, and a little exasperated—sent a rush of warmth through him. “I thought it was obvious,” you teased, laughing softly.
For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you’d just said. A grin broke across his face, wide and boyish. “So... you like me too?” he asked excitedly.
Your laughter deepened, the sound soft and melodic. “How could you not notice?”
Before you could say anything more, he reached for you, his fingers curling gently around your wrist as he pulled you into him. You yelped, startled by the sudden closeness, but the protest never left your lips. His arms encircled you, holding you tightly, finally after waiting years to do this. Your hands hesitated for a moment before finding their place around his waist, your touch tentative but grounding.
“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and trembling slightly with emotion. His breath was warm against your hair as he buried his face in it, letting his eyes close. “Does that mean you’re dumping the loser who asked you out and you’re gonna spend the afternoon kissing me?”
“Satoru.”
As Satoru stands near the altar, his usual confidence falters as his heart skips a beat—then stops entirely.
He swears that he had never been more in love with you, if that’s even possible.
This feeling, an ache that stretched from his chest to his fingertips, leaves him trembling with an emotion he couldn’t put into words. He had never imagined it was possible to love someone this deeply, to feel his heart swell and his stomach churn with nervous exhilaration just from the mere sight of you.
And everything that he has ever done right, everything he had lost, was all worth it because it led to this moment.
It led him back to you.
2008
It happened after a mission. The two of you had just finished taking down a particularly troublesome curse, your energy spent and your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.
Satoru, for once, was exhausted. But you, for once, were weirdly energetic— skipping ahead of him on the rain-soaked streets, your laughter carrying through the quiet night.
Despite this, he insisted on walking you back to campus, even if his legs felt like lead. He just wanted to be around you a little longer.
The night was heavy with the smell of rain-soaked pavement, the kind of scent that lingered and wrapped around you, making everything feel muted.
You stopped suddenly in the empty area, just before you reached the school gates.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asked, tilting his head toward you.
You didn’t say anything more, just pulled out your newest ipod out of your pocket, fumbling with the earbuds tangled in the cords. Satoru leaned against a lamppost nearby, watching you with an amused tilt to his head.
“What’re you doing?” He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a smile.
You brought a finger up to his lips and looked at him mischievously. “Shh.”
“Music helps me relax,” you said, plugging one earbud into your ear and offering him the other. “Here. Try it.”
Satoru hesitated, then shrugged, taking the tiny speaker and popping it into his ear. Almost immediately, the familiar opening notes of Every Breath You Take by The Police filtered through, slow and haunting.
“This?” He scrunched up his nose. “Really? The Police? That’s so lame.”
You looked at him, a tired but content smile tugging at your lips. “This song’s a classic,” you said softly, “It’s my favorite song!”
He opened his mouth to retort, but you surprised him by stepping closer, your eyes sparkling with a mix of playfulness and something else—something he couldn’t quite name. Without warning, you stepped closer, extending a hand toward him.
“Dance with me,” you said, your voice barely louder than the melody playing between you.
“What? Here?” Satoru raised a brow, glancing around at the deserted street.
“Yes, here.” You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward you. “Come on, Satoru. Don’t tell me you’ve never danced before.”
Of course he didn’t.
He spent most of his life training to be the strongest and loving you and only you.
He let you guide him, his free hand hovering awkwardly until you placed it firmly on your waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his.
The song continued to play, the melody wrapping around you both as you swayed.
Satoru stood stiffly for a moment, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process what was happening.
“Relax,” you teased, giving his shoulder a gentle shove.
It was awkward at first but eventually, you fell into a rhythm.
“You do realize this song’s about obsession and borderline stalking, right?” he said, a smirk adorning his lips.
“It’s a love song.” You corrected him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. “I think it’s kinda depressing, in a way. To be able to love someone from afar but not being able to actually love them. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but it’s devotion nonetheless.
“You’re insane,” he replied, but there was a fondness in his tone that made your grin widen.
Like in the movies, it suddenly started to rain. The rain was coming down soft at first, then it became heavier as the droplets started to soak through your uniforms and plastered your hair to your faces.
But neither of you really cared. Not when you were so close, your warmth cutting through the chill of the night.
The rain soaked through his hair and trickled down his neck, and Satoru couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you were looking at him like that, your eyes sparkling with mischief and something softer. Something about the way you looked at him, your face soft and serene under the rain’s glow, made him feel... grounded.
“You’re terrible at this,” you teased, your voice light despite the exhaustion in your body.
“Hey, I’m great at this,” he shot back, spinning you suddenly and making you laugh. The sound echoed through the empty street, warm and full of life, and Satoru realized he’d do anything to hear it again and again.
When the chorus hit, you rested your head against his chest, your movements slowing. He felt your breathing even out, your exhaustion catching up to you, but you didn’t pull away. His arms tightened around you instinctively, holding you as if you might slip away if he didn’t.
“I want to be yours.” He murmured through your hair, hiding his face from you out of nervousness. “Can I be yours, Y/N?”
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him.
“I love you, Satoru.”
He blinked, his heart stumbling in his chest. “Really?” A slow grin spread across his face. “You beat me to it.”
You giggled, the sound melting whatever nervousness was left in him.
“I love you, Y/N. Can I be yours then?” He asked, his voice dropping slightly. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
“I think my answer is pretty clear, you idiot.”
And with that, you pulled him down into a kiss, the rain pouring around you like something out of a movie. Satoru just held you tighter, thinking that he didn’t need anything else.
He just needed to be yours.
As you walk down the aisle, closer and closer to him, his breath hitched when finally— fucking finally, your eyes met his.
You smiled at him with lachrymose eyes. Satoru smiles back, wide and unrestrained, so much so that his cheeks are starting to hurt. His heart is pounding loudly in his chest that he’s afraid that everyone else in the church would hear how much his heart beats just for you.
You were ethereal.
A dream, really.
A dream he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.
Satoru had prepared himself for this moment—or at least he thought he had.
He told himself he needed to be strong for you.
It had been years, after all.
But no amount of preparation could steady the storm raging within him as the moment finally came. His jaw tightened, his smile strained, and he forced himself to breathe, even as each breath felt heavier than the last.
His chest constricted, and for that single, fragile moment, it felt as though everything he had ever wanted was still within reach.
When you finally tore your gaze from him and walked past, your white dress trailed like a whisper and a mockery of the life he would never have with you. Satoru just watched, rooted to his place.
His heart clenched painfully, screaming at him to reach out, to stop you, but he stayed still. He had no right. This was your moment, and he had promised himself he wouldn’t ruin it—not for you.
Your happiness means everything to him. It always has. Even if it means watching you walk toward another man, toward a future that doesn’t include him.
Satoru’s eyes followed you as you made your way to your soon-to-be husband, Nanami Kento.
2013
The rain was relentless, pouring in heavy sheets that blurred the world around him, but Satoru barely noticed it. His hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold, as he walked toward you. His breath fogged in the air, but it wasn’t the cold that made his chest tighten—it was the thought of what he was about to do.
Through the rain-streaked glass, he saw you sitting at a small table by the window. You were hunched over, your uniform still clinging to your frame. You were drenched because you waited for him at the park before he texted you to meet up with him in this café instead.
Satoru nearly stopped right there, frozen by the sight of you. That look on your face—the same tired, fragile expression you’d worn for the past six months—made something inside him shatter.
Satoru almost cracked.
But he couldn’t.
He had to do this. For you.
He swallowed the lump rising in his throat, forcing himself to take another step, and then another, until he was close enough to see the rain streaking down your cheeks. Or were those tears? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to.
His breath was uneven, his heart pounding as if it were trying to break free from his chest.
He hated this. Hated himself. But it didn’t matter.
This was for the best.
“Satoru?” you asked, your voice soft but cautious. Disappointment is written all over your face but your determination to make your relationship work outweighs it.
He froze for a second. God, you looked so beautiful, even like this—wet, shivering, and confused. A part of him wanted to just pull you into his arms and to apologize for what he was about to do, hold you so close that the world would have no choice but to give you to him without exceptions.
But instead, he dropped his gaze and forced the words out. “We need to talk.”
You blinked, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
He slid into the seat across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He couldn’t meet your eyes, so he stared at the surface instead, tracing a crack in the wood grain with his finger. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”
“What about us?” you asked, your voice quieter now.
Satoru exhaled sharply. “I don’t think this is working anymore.”
You stiffened, your fingers tightening around your coffee cup.
“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Satoru, what are you saying?”
“I’m not in love with you anymore,” he said, his voice hollow, as if that would make it hurt less—for both of you. “For a while now.”
The words tasted like poison on his tongue, each one more painful than the last.
Your eyes widened, disbelief etched across your face. “You– you don’t mean that.”
When he finally looked at you, he thought about telling you the truth—that he was terrified of putting you in danger, that loving him came with risks you didn’t deserve. But he swallowed it down.
“I do.” His voice cracked. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
You shook your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “Satoru, if something’s wrong, we can fix it. Just talk to me. I know you love me—”
“There’s nothing to fix!” he interrupted, louder than he intended. He winced at the hurt that flashed across your face. Softer now, he added, “It happens. People fall out of love. Don’t make this situation harder for the both of us, please. I can’t give you what you want.”
“You’re lying. Why are you doing this?” you whispered in disbelief. You quickly held his hand. “You’re trying to push me away. Just tell me what’s really going on.”
He couldn’t answer that. Not the truth, at least. That being with him would mean a lifetime of danger, of being a target simply because of who he was. That he couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt because of him. That he loved you too much to keep you by his side.
“I’m not lying,” he said quietly, the finality in his tone slicing through the air between you. “This is just how I feel.”
Your shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he thought you might collapse under the weight of his words.
You took a shaky step back, wrapping your arms around yourself as though you were trying to hold yourself together. “I see.”
“Sorry, Y/N.”
Without another word, he turned and walked away, the rain drowning out the sound of his footsteps and the sobs he was certain he would hear if he stayed a second longer.
He didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. Because if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to leave.
The first few years after your breakup were a strange limbo. You stayed friends—on the surface, at least. But there was always tension, unspoken words that hung heavy between you. He could see it in the way your eyes lingered on him during missions, the hope that flickered and faded every time he said something or did something that he used to do with you.
You waited for him to come back to you. Satoru knew that.
And for a time, he almost let himself believe that he can. He just needed enough time to muster up the courage to come back to you.
and when he finally received that wedding invitation on a random friday morning, he stared at it for hours before opening it. He felt like he died twice as much when he also learned that your fiancé gave up his job as a sorcerer just to have a peaceful life with you.
The life Satoru dreamed of giving you.
That night, for the first time in years, he let himself cry. Not the quiet, controlled tears he shed in the rain that day, but the kind that left him gasping for breath.
And Satoru Gojo, the strongest, could do nothing but watch.
Looking back at everything he had done to keep you safe, Satoru doesn’t know which one’s better—losing you for good or losing you to someone else.
Always an arm’s length yet never close enough.
His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He bit down on his lower lip hard, a desperate attempt to stifle the sound threatening to escape—a choked sob, a plea, a broken fragment of a heartache he couldn’t afford to show.
Out of the corner of his eye, he felt a nudge at his elbow. Gojo turned to see Shoko, quiet as ever, holding out his sunglasses.
Shoko looked at him with such softness and sympathy, one that Gojo wasn’t sure he could bear right now.
Shoko didn’t say anything, didn’t need to.
Gojo took the sunglasses, slipping it over his eyes. He gave her a half-hearted grin before painfully turning his gaze back on you.
His resolve cracks little by little, then all at once, when he finally sees the way you look at Nanami Kento.
Gojo will never have the privilege to wake up to you in the morning, to be the first person who would witness your sleepy eyes as the sunlight slowly makes its way into the room. Never again will he have the privilege of making you breakfast, of watching your expression shift from fondness to playful exasperation as you scold him for drenching his pancakes in too much honey, his sweetness nearly as overindulgent as the way he looked at you. He will never be able to be the recipient of your lovesick eyes, that softness in your smile that was only ever reserved for him.
He’ll never be able to feel your touch again, at least not in the way he yearns for used to.
Gojo’s mind wanders off at the stolen moments he buried deep within his heart. How it seems like it was only yesterday when he’s still in your shared bed, with you curled up by his side while he wraps his arms around you, and how you’d point out that he was clingy even if he knew you loved every second of it anyway. How you caress his face and laugh at his antics only to assure him that he is the only one you love and that you won’t ever go away, putting his demons to sleep just with the sound of your voice.
Oh, what a bliss.
And perhaps the most gut wrenching realization of all is that it was almost him. Those nights full of whispered secrets and promises to grow old together all vanished just because he was too scared of not being able to protect you.
Nanami will have all that he dreams of, all that he let go of, and all of you.
What a lucky man he is, to be someone that is seen and loved by you. You look at Kento like how you used to look at him, so full of love and adoration as if he was the one who put all the stars in the sky.
He wanted to hate him, to despise the man who now holds your heart, to curse the universe for giving your love to someone else. But how could he? How could he, when Nanami Kento wears his love for you so plainly, so unabashedly, as if it were his very lifeblood? All he needs to hear is evident in the unspoken devotion that screams in the way Nanami looks at you—a love so evident it makes him force to swallow down the bile in his throat.
If it wasn’t clear before, it was painfully clear now—the ache in his chest was sharper, more unbearable than any blow he had endured as the strongest. His ribs felt as though they might collapse under the weight of his regret.
The realization comes all too late and unrelenting, you were already promising forever in the arms of a man who wasn’t him.
He wanted to shout, to tell you to stop the wedding. to choose him. to beg for your forgiveness.
Would you take him back?
The voices in his head are becoming louder, much louder than ever. He was so stupid. So cowardly. How could he have let you go when being with you is the only thing he had ever truly wanted?
He stayed firm in his place, knuckles turning white as he held himself together.
Not once did you look back at him.
It has always been you, you had once told him.
Yet you have already said I do—
It has always been you.
It will always be you.
a/n: sorry, did i scam you?
my song inspo for this is bizarre love triangle by new order. I feel like it's such a depressing love song aka love triangle between the writer, his lover, and something else. In Gojo's case, it's his duty as the strongest.
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader angst#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst
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An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI
Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.
Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.
This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.
1. The Pole of Inaccessibility
Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.
You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.
Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!
2. Lessons from the Wasteland
Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.
Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?
…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.
3. The Stowaway
Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.
Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.
Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!
4. Homeward
Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:
He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder
He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation
Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing
Shoots a gun real good
Can drive like nobody's business
So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.
All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.
5. Beyond Vengeance
The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.
Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.
It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.
Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.
#furiosa: a mad max saga#mad max#mad max: Fury road#furiosa#imperator furiosa#george miller#mary jabassa#dementus#praetorian jack#immortan joe#max rockatansky#analysis#essay#anya taylor-joy#chris hemsworth#charlee fraser#tom burke#charlize theron#continuity#canon#arthurian literature#arthurian mythology#the matter of britain#king arthur#alyla browne
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Purity
POV: You just wanted to celebrate your engagement party with your friends and family in the 1600s, but as soon as you left the scene for a quick moment, your childhood friend, Scaramouche, appeared with a lot of complaints.
⚠️ WARNINGS:
— This is a slightly Yandere and corrupted NSFW piece
— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns
— 1600s / European Royalty AU
— There will be a lot of usage and mentions of toxic religion / culture towards women.
— There will be a whole NSFW part describing teenagers having sex
The party was going perfectly well as you planned it to be. Even without your presence at the main hall in a party that was supposed to be about you, you could hear the hundreds of voices and noises of silvers clicking. You thought that maybe making this party huge would distract your mind off from the most recent events of your life, and it did before your future husband ruined it for you and made you remind that you were just a loser in his game.
Of course it was him, it had to be him. Why did you even believe that he’d ever let you have that much of fun in a party? Now, you definitely did not want to party anymore, and luckily, you also couldn’t. Tears are a nightmare for eyes with mascara all around its eyelashes, the ink is strong. You looked a homeless woman as you crippled through each stair step in search of your room, stepping in the ends of your dress, defeated by the public humiliation he did to you. Why did he have keep making so many remarks about your excited manners towards the visitors, how you referred to him, and how much food you wanted to put in your plate? It made you wonder why did you ever accept marrying him the entire walk.
The story behind your marriage is simple. Your reputation in the city was bad, not enough to make your family miserable, but enough to make all the marriage suitors of your age refuse to take your hand in marriage. You were a girl who liked to have fun and take risks, not sit and chat for hours while drinking tasteless cups of tea in a time where all men wanted the complete opposite in their wives. You also had a very curious case in the past. You and your childhood best friend called Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche just for you, had promised and announced a marriage that would take place as soon as both of you got inserted into society, but unfortunately, his school offered him a scholarship in France before you two could be inserted, and since you obviously couldn’t come with him, he was forced to choose between success or you. He ended up picking France, which was not a bad decision, but watching his departure was truly painful to your poor heart who had deeply fallen in love with him.
Because of this tragic love story that turned out to be a joke and your questionable personality, everyone lost interest in you and your family, which made you an unmarried woman for two years. In short, being unmarried at such age was a disaster. The only man that had proposed to you was the same one who shamed you in front of your whole family and all those hypocrite visitors. He was the double of your age, ugly, and had really strict standards for his future wife after the loss of his previous wife. After a few test dates with him, you realized that you really did not want to marry him and even repulsed the idea, not because of your love towards Scaramouche, but because he wasn’t ok in the head. He was weird to a point where he confessed he just wanted to make you his wife because he thought you looked very fertile and that you’d be an incredible mother for boys, since you ‘acted like one’, which would not be a bad thing if his eyes never seemed to linger in your crotch for too long and if he kept his hands to himself.
You did not want to spend the rest of your life stocked to such weird man at all. You didn’t feel anything for him and even felt sick in his presence, but your reputation was in such a terrible state that your parents pressured you with the worst and most disturbing threats ever to accept his offer during a huge argument about it.
You’ve always wished to marry a young man of your age, especially Scaramouche, but you had no right or power of choice in that situation. With growing tears in the back of your eyes, you accepted his act of putting a golden ring in your finger. The day still haunted your dreams and thoughts, making you want to cry every single day of your meaningless life just like today.
Luckily, all you had to do that after climbing those long, exhausting stairs was enter the first room at the right. As soon as you touched the golden, cold doorknob of it, you felt your body melt and your tears finally coming out of your eyes with freedom. You held them for so long, you just wanted to throw yourself at the bed and cry until you fell asleep. Still, as desperate as you were, you closed the door very gently, afraid of possibly calling attention.
You stepped out of your heels and finally ran to the bed you slept through your entire childhood. Due to the contact your face made with the sheets, you finally felt comfort to open your mouth and let all your whimpers out. Everything that led to your situation was hitting you again. Your affair with Scaramouche, his departure, the argument with your parents, the betrayal of society to you, the first appearance of that hag you were marrying, his proposal, and today. It all made you so anxious again that you really began to try shutting your mouth again multiple times and swallow all that voice down your throat again, but it only seemed to worsen.
“Y/N?” You suddenly heard a voice inside the room, slightly muffled due to your head being drowned at the wet sheets.
Oh no, someone spotted you.
The fear of it being your husband, an unreliable gossiper or your reputation worsening made you instantly jump up from that position, despite the weird feeling of familiarity on that voice.
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll come down in a few—!” You tried making yourself look normal, but as soon as your eyes gazed upon the person’s shiny purple hair and eyes, you stopped acting.
It was the complete opposite of what your pessimism made you believe it could be, it was a miracle, it was Kunikuzushi. Although his face seemed to be very stressed and he entered the room without knocking, it did not make his appearance any less pleasant to you.
“Scara…” You called his nickname after those 2 years without speaking of it.
Your family made very clear to you that if you ever spoke of the man again to them or your husband, it would lead to your disownment, but calling his name out so passionately like that made all those threats feel useless to you. The first thing you did after realizing that it was really him, was begin walking to him. It was instinctual, so instinctual that your knees stopped trembling just for you to reach him and more tears started coming down. He looked so beautiful and mature… it made you feel even more bad about yourself. You wasted such a handsome man to one that probably has never even tried to look pretty to a lady.
“For how long have you…” You tried interacting, but as you soon as your hand managed to touch him, you broke down once again, this time in his embrace.
You felt so safe around Scaramouche and so hungry for him that you genuinely allowed your legs to stop working, and as expected, he held you with a warm embrace around your entire torso. When he realized you still were as light as a feather, he leaned one hand up to the back of your head and started cuddling it, his face still stressed.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” He whispered with that familiar angry voice of his you wished to hear again, slightly gripping tighter in your head.
The truth is that you secretly sent an invitation letter to the party to him, even if you believed that he would not be able to come or simply wouldn’t come. It was a normal envelope like everyone else’s, but you hoped he’d interpret it as a cry for help.
“W-Wha… what do you mean..?” You whimpered, looking up to his face.
Now that he was so much taller than you, the difference of height was surprising to you.
“I was talking to him, to find out where you were and to just know who the fuck were you marrying, and not only he said he didn’t know with the most careless tone I could hear, but he felt comfortable enough to confess a bunch of weird shit about his intentions with you and that he offended you in front of everyone in the dining table.” He told the story behind his arrival very angrily, but his voice was so mesmerizing to you that you barely paid attention to it. He still sounded like a twelve year-old boy before his departure, but now he sounded like an adult. “Did he really do that, Y/N?” He asked, pulling your chin to him to wake you up to reality, forcing you to go through all he said before again and stare at those addicting purple eyes.
Between all those whimpers and tears, you nodded weakly, making Scaramouche grit his teeth.
“And you’re really… marrying him?” You went quiet for some second in embarrassment after he made that question with the most disappointed tone you’ve ever heard from him yet.
But you had no choice rather than being truthful.
“Yes—”
“Why?” He asked instantly, some of his anger accidentally pouring out.
“I… had to… or I would be disowned and… and..!” You tried explaining, but the memories of the actual threat stopped you from venting too much.
Luckily, he understood your despair at that moment and embraced you again.
“I’m guessing this is all because of me, isn’t it?” He scoffed at himself, but you instantly nodded your head side to side, trying to tell him otherwise. “Oh, Y/N… I should’ve found a way to bring you to France with me…” He whispered in your ear and pulled you even closer to his body, truly seeming regretful of his decisions. “I thought I had forgotten about you over these two years, but here I am, raging over your marriage.” He vented, making your eyes finally open again, but in confusion.
“You’re… angry..?” You asked, leaning your chin up to him again.
“Way more than that, Y/N.” He said very directly, pushing you away from him gently, still holding on your shoulders as he precisely stared to the deepest parts of your eyes. “This has to stop.” He shook your shoulders, making you get even more confused and surprised at his sudden jealously. “I don’t care if it will ruin more of your little reputation, I can’t let you marry that prick.” He spouted more of his feelings, putting a hand back to reach the door behind him to bang it back to its place and spin the lock in knob, then going back to gripping on your shoulders tighter than before, making you slightly whimper at his firmness.
“W-What are you talking about, Scara..?” You asked, trying to believe he was not saying those things.
“Do you know why that man asked your hand in marriage, Y/N? I had a bit of hope that at least I lost you to a good man, but all he wants in you is your fertility and potential to be a mother.” He told you the details of it with a kind of disgust you had never seen on him, making you turn your face away from him in embarrassment of your decisions. “That’s fucking mental, Y/N, why the fuck are doing this?!” He shook your shoulders again, a little more aggressive as he tries to understand you the mentality behind your choices.
“And what else could I do, Scara?! If you know that it’s your fault that I got a bad reputation, why are you acting like this is unexpected?! I was unmarried for these whole two years, I had to accept this! You know how things work for women! If I don’t marry quickly, I’ll be forever stained with it like it’s written in my forehead! Do you know how much I had to fight and work to get this, huh?! Do you think I chose and love this?!” You vented it all out, screaming like you didn’t care about the possible consequences of it meanwhile Scaramouche looked at you in horror.
But you could see that you convinced him, now that he let you go and turned around, beginning to walk in circles in your room with his hands in his hips, thoughtful about you.
“I can’t let you do this, Y/N…” He whispered to himself as he nodded his head around multiple times and you stood weakly exactly where you’ve been this entire hug.
But after some circles, he started to slow down until he fully stopped in front of one of the room’s windows. He kept staring at the garden below the room through the glass, his back turned to you, but you could still feel the anxiety behind whatever he thought of.
His arms crossed firmly, his index finger tapping his arm, and at the same time he took a deep breath, like he was preparing for something.
“Marry me.” He stated, finally finding the courage to stare at you again.
You simply stared at him wordless in your shrunken position, completely vulnerable to his tall figure, although he was far from you. The room remained quiet because Scara needed a response to continue rambling about that brainstormed idea.
“I would’ve accepted losing you to a common man of our age, but not to an old hag with a simple wish to make an heir.” He commented as you thought of what to answer him.
“Scaramouche… are you nuts?! I already am engaged to him, all we need is the actual wedding! There’s nothing to be done about it unless you want to stain my reputation forever!” You finally spouted some of your emotions to him.
“Of course there is, Y/N! Listen to me…” He shouted at you as he approached to you again, holding on your arms again very firmly. “I just came back to this hellhole to see you, but I’ll be soon going back to England and most likely going to stay there for the rest of my life. If you dump this douchebag right now and marry me instead, I’ll take you out of here and implant you into a new society! See?! It really isn’t hard or risky and we will finally marry each other as we’ve always dreamed to! I still fucking love you so much, Y/N… You’ve grown so well and you look so fucking beautiful in this dress… I can’t lose you to that man at all.” He explained the plan to you in a desperate tone, and although you agreed with all of it, you kept your face as anxious as it was.
You definitely loved him back and wanted to run away with him, but how would he get rid of your husband or the church? How would you live knowing that you wasted two years of pure hard work because of the seduction of a man you’ve been lusting for, and who barely has a plan in his own? His plan seems so easily fragile… what if it breaks? You would most likely become the national shame for next centuries.
All those negative thoughts censored the good ones about his plan, making you look away from him as you nodded side to side firmly, making Scaramouche start breathing more nervously in despair.
“I can’t…” You initiated, thinking he’d instantly get mad, but when you realized he didn’t say anything back, and wanted to listen, you continued. “I spent two years fighting for this, Scara… I can’t just… drop everything for a plan that’s not even finished on its own…” You cried, trying your best to free away from his grip with ease.
“Oh, silly Y/N..! All I need now is to find out how will I get rid of that fucking prick, and then it’s done! You know it’s not a bad plan… I really just need to think about this part! I think I can safely state that we still love each other and crave for this… we can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist..!” He argued, banging your foreheads together with a sensible lust to bring your lips together.
“I cannot accept your offer until it’s fully completed, Scaramouche… I’m sorry. It still wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve broken my heart once.” You brought the topic back, which made him barely cry and tighten his grip on your shoulders in regret, feeling like he was losing you. “And… I’ve heard you’ve been seeing a woman named Kujou Sara… so how can I guarantee you’re not just playing with my heart and seducing me into carnal desires..?” You asked, making him genuinely scoff and giggle at your logic.
“Do you really think I’d go this far for carnal desires, Y/N? Wherever you heard about me and Sara, keep in mind that we didn’t work. Don’t you remember? Our mothers have always tried to push us together through our entire childhoods, but we repulsed each other so much that we preferred to bet on the luck of finding another partner! And trust me, Y/N, I had you in my mind this entire time.” He told his version of the story as he confessed his feelings for you. “I don’t wish to simply engage into animality with you, I want to be your fucking husband and the fucking father of your children.” He confessed, feeling the regret of his last actions hitting on him and the anger of your insistence of rejecting him, but you saw him stop for a moment to swallow everything down again and regain some self-control. “I love you, Y/N.” Those words came out of his mouth as easy as any other would, with a smile that you could feel was genuine, no matter how weird it looked.
The impact of his emotions on you made you weaken your body again, feeling safe in his grip no matter how weird he was acting. You felt like you were set back to his seduction, but you didn’t really care for it for that quick moment.
“I… I love you too, Scara, but I really can’t—”
…
!
In a blink of an eye, you saw the gap between your mouths close shut, finally making utility of the unnecessary contact between your foreheads. His lips were glossing yours, no matter if yours were supposed to belong to another man now. He had pulled you that close to him, no matter if you had or had not consented. He predicted that you’d simply accept it like a gift… and he wasn’t wrong.
Scaramouche’s tongue was invasive and hungry to get to feel more of your mouth, and that feeling just made you melt under his attack. Your back leaned backwards, making him have to hold you by your waist in a very hard angle while you held him by his cheeks, but it didn’t matter as long as he got to kiss you. Your tongue soon managed to join his rhythm, which made him groan. Everything between you got very hot and very quickly, only convincing you to kiss him more. It has been two years since you last saw, touched or kissed him, which means your hormones were surely acting higher than you.
You suddenly felt Scaramouche’s hands move to the back part of your tights and pull it up. You groaned in surprise but that didn’t stop you from savoring his lips. What truly made you two separate was the fact that Scaramouche started walking, and in a few steps, your back banged against a cold wall of your room beside your bed. That swift movement made a saliva chord come out from both your mouths, but was quickly ignored by you moving your hands behind his neck and hugging his waist with your legs to pull him to your mouth again, gripping on the back of his hair like you felt any sort of pain in that kiss.
You were almost feeling tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you felt all those years of longing being wasted, but before you could get any more emotional, you felt something gently rub in your crotch. It instantly made you feel uncomfortable, although you had no idea what it was, so you pushed Scaramouche backwards, separating your moths again, to see what it was.
Oh, lord. You two messed up.
It was a growing erection under his pants.
You instantly flinched away from it as a reaction, slightly screaming in fear of it.
“W-Wait..! No! We can’t do this, Scara!” You argued as you tried to push him away and kick the air with your feet.
“Why not, hum..?” He asked, not taking you seriously at all. “I thought you said you loved me too…” He joked, getting his face close to yours again for another kiss, but accidentally forcing the contact of his erection with your crotch even further.
“Seriously, Scara! Stop it!” You moaned as you felt him rub himself against your clothed clit, trying to push him away even harder.
Scaramouche grunted in frustration, but still decided to let you stand up in the ground again and step away from you. After some necessary breathes to recover, he finally decided to speak up.
“What’s wro—?”
SLAP!
You breathed in and out some extras times before using the same hand you used to smack his cheek to wipe the saliva away from your lips and speaking up for yourself.
“Don’t you ever do this to me again!” You argued, trying your best to not scream at him so loudly.
“What’s up with the sudden bipolarity, huh?” He asked in an ironic tone, caressing the cheek that has been slapped.
You had just forgotten how sarcastic and annoying Scaramouche was. It even made you wonder how did you befriend him in the first place.
“This is wrong, Scaramouche, even if I accepted your offer… it would be cruel to betray someone’s trust like this. Sorry if I fooled you by realizing this too late, but you know wives have to keep themselves pure before their marriage, so meanwhile we aren’t an oficial couple, I must keep myself pure for my future husband.” You argued in a more calm tone, rearranging your hair and dress.
“Pure?” He scoffed.
“Yes, Scaramouche. Pure as a saint.”
“There isn’t such thing as ‘purity’, Y/N, and you were never ‘pure’ too.” He ironized, copying your way to pronounce ‘pure’.
“What do you mean?” You asked, slightly losing your confidence as he made those two statements.
“Well… let’s just say I studied a lot about religion and science in France and stopped going to church or believing in God because I found science more logical—” He initiated, making you repulse him and his previous actions even more.
“W-Wha… what..?! Scara, this is devil’s work on you..!” You immediately replied.
“Quiet. I’m not done.” He tried shutting you, but you feared demonology too much to let him give you orders.
“I will not quiet down towards—!”
“Y/N, if you’re so loyal to your religion, why don’t you act like the submissive woman you’re supposed to be and let the man take lead?” He confronted in a harsh, cold tone, this time giving you a good reason to shut up. “When I say I don’t believe in God, I also mean that I don’t believe in Satan, hell or heaven.” He continued, completely ignoring your discomfort and fear.
You feared that Scaramouche you saw was just a demon morphing as him, or that he had allied with Satan, but you still felt like none of those negative thoughts made you like him less or feel less comfortable. According to his words, he really just seemed to have started seeing the world in a different perspective.
“Why would God want you to be ‘pure’ anyway? Why would he not want couples to know each other and be intimate before sealing their relationship as marriage?” He scoffed the logic behind that rule of your religion. “What would you do if that man you’re about to marry likes choking and hurting women physically during sex? I don’t think you’re into those things, so that’s why I’m asking… nor I think that man would be willing to adapt to what you like.” He crossed his arms as he confronted you again, but you didn’t want to say anything else. “And there’s also the fact that you still are not ‘pure’, Y/N, in fact, you’re one of the most impure women I’ve ever met.” He insulted you, making you gasp in shock with his audacity.
“How dare you insult me like this?!” You screamed back at him.
“Insult? It’s a mere fact, Y/N, unless if you consider what happened between us when we were 16, a day before my departure, something ‘pure’.” He scoffed, smirking as he saw your face stone in horror.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no…
No, no, no, no, no…
He’s right.
You are not pure.
“You opened yourself so easily to me… I was so glad I got to experience sex with you before leaving this stupid city.” He commented, making both of you remember of what happened enthusiastically, but you were still horrified with the incoming memories.
That day, you were simply sitting in Scaramouche’s bed with him, talking about how you felt about his departure. Not only you knew he was going to leave you, but another girl you two knew as kids, Kujou Sara, was also moving to France, and that made you feel extremely insecure about your slightly romantic relationship with him. You asked him if he planned marrying her if he didn’t come back, but he took it as an insult and instantly spilled out that if he could ever marry you, he would, but it was impossible at the moment because you two were too young for the church to allow it. From that point, things got hot and romantic very quick, and you two lost notion of time and morality as you two made love to each other for the first time in your lives.
“Do you… really promise to- ah~! marry me if you come back, Scaramouche..?” You asked between moans and whines as you hugged and scratched his back and he forced his hips into yours like a starved dog.
“Of course, Y/N, of cour—” He was about to answer, but a sudden gasp echoed in the room in the spot of the door, making you two stone in horror and stop everything.
“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” Scaramouche’s mother, Raiden Ei, screamed at the both of you with a very noticeable disgust in her voice.
And you two were forced to stop.
“Yeah, right? How many slaps that costed you again? 50?” He asked as he realized you were having flashbacks of it.
Ei was not kind towards the situation you both were in and reported your sin to your family, which caused the biggest problems you had to face: your family’s scolding and not allowing that secret to spread. Your parents had gone so mad during their scolding that they instantly made you also receive punishment from the church to somehow recover what you lost that day. The sister who heard your forced confession betrayed your little trust and forced you to receive 50 slaps with a piece of wood in your bare nude buttocks. What hurt you most is that not only your lover couldn’t defend you but the sister did not forgive your sin and told you with the roughest voice tone she that you’d never get your purity back.
It was so traumatic and humiliating that your mind decided to blur those moments out of it to make your life less miserable, but now it has all been brought back by the man you wanted to defend you at that moment.
“You see, Y/N? We have stoped being ‘pure’ long time ago when we did that! We’re both screwed in this society, so if we stick together, nothing will change in our reputations! We’re perfect for each other, Y/N! Why can’t you see it?!” He whispered in your ear after walking up to you again, extremely desperate for your consent to kiss you one more time.
You didn’t want to admit that he was right about the logic of purity or you not being pure… you didn’t want to awaken those dark moments at all. What if someone was behind that door listening to it all..? It would truly be the end of your name in England.
“Come on, say it, Y/N… you know you still want to be my wife and get away from this hellhole of a city.” He begged with a petty voice, extremely lusty for you.
His cheeks were red and his mouth trembling to touch yours again.
You lowered your head, beginning to tear again as you resisted your desires, no matter how much it ached your heart.
But your need to cry was suddenly replaced by the sudden movement of one of his legs moving upwards, kneeing right under your crotch.
“No need to cry, my love… I’ll make sure that this guilt will vanish as soon as you agree to my plan of getting you out of this marriage… There is literally no good reason for you to say ‘no’..!” He whispered as he started rubbing his knee against your folds, causing to gently hiccup in tears and slight pleasure and try pushing him away. “See..?! You still like it when I touch you here… you want more, don’t you..? I don’t think even think I need to hear your voice to know it’s a ‘yes’!” He grunted under your neck as he begun moving a hand under your dress and kissing your neck.
No matter how much your memories made you feel horrible, you knew that Scaramouche would be the remedy of it. You knew that he would present you plenty pleasure if you accepted what he was trying to do with you right now, you knew he’d make you the happiest woman on Earth if things went well, you knew you’d love being the mother of his children, you could easily predict your future if you say ‘yes’ to him.
Your feelings are a mess, really. But now that they seemed to have finally stick with something, you didn’t want to let go.
“Oh, God! If you’re watching this, please forgive me for my sin ahead… I just want to feel him once again… I just want to spend some time with him!”
“Please don’t let this be a demon trying to take advantage of my weaknesses! Please let his plan be real and not an attempt to simply seduce me into carnal activities!”
“And if he really wants to be my husband… please let me have it! I really need it for my happiness!”
You said to yourself in your mind.
“Scara~…” You moaned out before he could your private spots.
“Yes, my love?” He answered excitedly, stopping his movements to hear what you had to say after moaning his name so perfectly.
“Please… get me out of here!” You begged, finally weakening your body for his benefit in that situation, making his purple eyes glow and widen in joy.
“Oh, Y/N, I will… I fucking will.” He groaned, instantly stopping his attempt in teasing your core and moving his hands to your tights to pull them upwards.
In seconds, you were spun around and thrown against your bed, but it really didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or any pain because the make-out session that begun was simply numbing your mind of everything around you. He was on top of you and perfectly positioned between your legs, making you able to feel his erection slightly poking and rubbing against your swollen cunt.
His hands were quick in beginning to push all the layers of your dress upwards as his mouth still pushed your head father into the mattress. He had no time to make a full preparation for the moment, nor did you want it. You just wanted to feel that man inside you already, anything blocking you from it was simply annoying, no matter if it was related to him making love to you.
His mouth suddenly separated from yours, making you open your eyes in agony of being too far from him, only to find him leaning his whole body upwards and his hands moving to your pantyhose like a starved dog. Unlike with the dress, his hands weren’t as gentle with your pantyhose, barely ripping it apart as he brutally pulled them down.
“S-Scara..! Be more careful, those were expensive!” You asked slightly stressed, trying your best to close your knees from him, but he held them like he’d die if you did that.
“S-Sorry.” He said absolutely careless about it, only focusing on the teasing view of your exposed tights and underwear. “Fuck…” He grunted as he moved his hands to his belt.
He was quick on undoing his annoying pants and you helped him by sliding your underwear down too, saving some time for him. He smirked at your will to commit carnal activity with him as he grabbed his own cock and pulled it out, beginning to stroke it gently in front of you. You were somehow too ashamed to look at it, so you simply threw your head aside and moved a hand to your wet entrance as your body relaxed, gently inserting two fingers inside it to also prepare yourself even more for him.
“God, Y/N… you never fail to make me as hard as a brick. Can you even guess how many times I touched myself for you?” He smirked as his cock twitched at the view of you preparing yourself to receive him.
He felt like he could cum already if he kept stroking himself with that view in front of him, but he really was just preparing himself for the moment too.
As soon as he felt a sudden hard pulse from his cock, he knew he was ready and leaned down close to you again, using a hand to take yours away from your cunt and properly position his cock in front of it.
Your hands went to the corners of the pillow under your head, gripping on them nervous about his length.
“Are you ready, my love?” He asked between some shaky breathes.
“Yes…” You whispered, and he finally begun slowly pushing his way inside you.
The scream that came out of you as a reaction to it would only get higher and higher the deeper he went, making your entire body crumble under him for a quick moment when he finally stopped at the tip of your cervix, successfully inserting all his length inside you. Despite knowing that in your religion sexual pleasure was sinful too, even in marriage, that heat wave his entrance gave you was too breathtaking to make you care about those stupid rules.
“Lord almighty…” He groaned and smirked at the sensation of being surrounded by your mushy, tight walls. “If only I had time and condition to see you naked again… thank God I’ll make you my wife, Y/N, because I want us to do this every single day of our lives.” His voice cracked multiple times during his speech as he begun creating a slow rythym to his hips, pleasuring taking over his senses too.
He was slowly pulling out and then rocking all the way in quickly, creating a tortuous rhythm that mostly explored your G spot, which only made you feel weaker and weaker under him. Unintentional plap noises were coming out from the rocking of both your hips and his balls every time he thrusted, which would be something you’d be worrying about if your mind wasn’t numbed by the overwhelming pleasure you received. Tears were beginning to form in ecstasy as your legs instinctively hugged his hips tighter, wishing for more depth into his movements.
“Do you really think… that man would or could ever… make you feel like this, Y/N?” He asked, pausing to moan and breathe sometimes, not minding the fact that you barely had any consciousness left to answer.
“N-N… no…” You moaned out, making his smirk widen.
“Only I can… and I fucking love it.” He whispered to himself as he slightly sped up his rhythm.
The way he whispered with that husky voice made you feel his dick suddenly get bigger and more invasive inside you, making Scaramouche grunt, although you didn’t understand what happened.
“Fuck… if you keep tightening like this, I might be unable to keep making my way inside…” He teased right in your left ear, making you throw your head aside even more.
His blood circulation felt like it had dropped all the way to his dick, because somehow he managed to get even harder than he was with the struggle of passing through such a tight space as your pussy.
Due to him getting his face so close to your head, Scaramouche moved his mouth to your neck, his harsh breathing tickling your warm skin too. Your legs twitched in surprise and Scaramouche grunted again, meaning that you probably tightened your cunt around him again.
And it was definitely the case since now you could hear some low, soggy noises whenever he pulled out from you, something that was not happening until this point.
“You still like it when I fuck you nice and slow like this, don’t you..?” He asked, making you face away from the moment in front of you. “Don’t be ashamed, I love making this to you…” He teased again before going back to his make-out session with the muscles of your neck.
Your hands finally got enough from endlessly gripping in a pillow and moved to his back, scratching it in the same intensity as his thrusts, making him slightly crumble on top of you too. But since he had his clothes on, his back was mostly protected from your nails unlike your poor, swollen cunt, being savored so relentlessly no matter how fragile and sensitive it is for his touch.
“Tell me, Y/N… who’s your husband..?” He asked, stopping his attack in your neck again just to lean up and stare at you with those hungry, shining purple eyes, unintentionally getting your hands away from his back too.
“Y-You…” You answered, still staring at him with your pathetic sex face.
“Who’s ‘you’?” His menacing voice made you remember of just how Scaramouche liked to explore everyone’s limits and capacities just to make himself more proud.
You had fallen for these tricks multiple times as a kid, so you eventually learned how to avoid them. And although you knew he was doing it again now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to make him more invested in your capacity of being submissive.
“Scaramouche… or… Kunikuzushi… Raiden…” You used all your energy to make your response the most teasing it could to fuel his pleasure.
And it worked, since you saw his eyes and smirk widen in lust as he heard you perfectly answer him.
“Yeah… that’s right. I am your husband and will soon be the father of your children… it’s just very unfortunate that I can’t afford to cum inside you and impregnate you right now… because I really wanted to.” He answered in a low tone, his constant breathing taking over his voice, speeding up his thrusts to a more tiring one, like he was beginning to get seriously involved with the moment.
You felt so sinful on allowing yourself to be so kinky and aroused with Scaramouche’s kinky personality too, but God would forgive you for this, wouldn’t he? He is such a nice person… he can feel that you’re just trying to feel your loved one again, right?
“You’re mine, Y/N… mine, mine, mine…” He grunted, leaning down again, but this time to kiss you with all his hunger and passion.
And before you could hug him again, he grabbed both your wrists who were gripping the pillow again and locked them right there, having full control of you. And you, in pleasure at feeling so confident to let him deal with you as he wished, arched your back up and widened the gap between your legs, allowing the mess of the sex between your hips to have even more depth.
It didn’t matter if your brain barely had any oxygen to process everything that was going on, Scaramouche still knew exactly how to bring you to ecstasy even if he got the chance to have sex with you once without even having an orgasm. Did he really study that much in France? It even made you jealous for a quick moment before your mind went numb again because of the lack of air that passed through your mouth in that kiss.
And Scaramouche was mean enough to force your tongue follow his in the deepest corners of your mouth, taking over anything that you had control of at that point. But don’t worry, Scaramouche was struggling on his own. He was giving the job of keeping himself on top of you only to his arms, which was causing an agonizing pain that he was trying to ignore. His sloppy socks were also making hard for his feet to keep his hips at that perfect angle that gave sharp thrusts at your weak spots, needing to crawl up again multiple times.
Luckily, he was feeling something build up inside his crotch, meaning that both your agonies would be done soon.
He sped up his rythym, causing you to clench around him once again for that momentary peak. It really felt like you were simply sucking him in rather than him thrusting.
He suddenly separated your tongues and leaned up his entire torso at the same time. His hands also moved back to your hips, pulling them up to successfully thrust you rough and fast as he smirked in pleasure of miring your defeated body shaking and trembling in rythym of his violent sex with hungry, widened eyes.
Due to the new position and rhythm, the bed begun doing the classic cranky noises whenever it moved up and down too. But, honestly… you guys had locked the door, in a took at second floor of a mansion where music was taking over everyone’s ears in the first floor… why the fuck would you care about it?
Your hands, no matter how weak they felt, moved to his wrists, simply hugging and caressing them in acceptation of his control over you, almost telling him that you desired him to keep controlling you until it ached. Your head was also thrown back as a reaction to his brutality, also feeling something build up inside your crotch.
“You’re gonna cum too, aren’t you? It’s getting way too sloppy down here…” He scoffed as before finally allowed himself to also fully focus on bringing an orgasm to both of you like a dog in heat.
His head arched all the way up too, beginning to also focus on feeling every single curve of your wet walls surrounding him perfectly. He was so focused on pleasing himself with your defeat rather than your pussy that he didn’t realize just how well you were taking him inside you.
“So fucking tight and warm f’me… it’s addicting, I’ll be honest..!” He used all his remaining energies to make that comment, and you accepted it like he had complimented your dress.
That peak felt like heaven to the both of you, but before you two could turn off your minds from each other and appreciate the perfection of the sex happening between your hips, all the orgasm that had been built up to this point suddenly bursted out disastrously from both your systems, causing a deep groan to come out of him and a loud scream to come out of you.
Scaramouche was still paying attention to the moment because he knew he couldn’t finish inside you, so as soon as he felt his dick pulse hard because of his seed aching to come out, he pulled out from you and covered his tip with a hand, twitching in the agony of it wishing it was still shoved inside you as it spilled seed inside your womb while you simply allowed your own fluids to overcome your insides until it was tipping on your entrance.
Scaramouche was so shaky that it actually brought him to stop smirking and hiss with his teeth gritting on each other, still miring the scene of the disaster you two created and the cream pie in your entrance, swollen in red.
“Fuck…” He grunted, taking his hand to his eyes when his dick finally stopped spilling cum, getting annoyed at the mess it was. “Stay right there… I’ll take care of this mess.” He said, back to his normal voice tone as he crawled away form your body.
And now that fresh air could reach your body, you could finally feel just how sweaty you had gotten. You still had dress on, so you knew that the maids of the home would not have a fun time cleaning it up. Your makeup was probably also completely ruined too but you couldn’t confirm it. Scaramouche was probably feeling it too, since he also had clothes on, even more than you.
You couldn’t even tell where Scaramouche had headed because you all did was focus on staring the rooftop, but he soon came back with his hands rubbing each other under a cloth, another one in his pocket, and with the clothes he had taken away from you.
“I’ll tell the people downstairs you suddenly got sick, okay? Don’t worry, they have no idea what a person looks like after sex, they like to keep themselves ‘pure’ after all…” He explained as he wiped out your cream pie and put your panties and pantyhose back to their places in you.
And right after, he pulled out the other cloth in his pocket, folded it some times, rested it on your forehead and covered you with the sheets of the bed to make the play of ‘being sick’ more believable to whoever would come in to check on you.
“Expect me to knock on your window every night from now on, ok? Just like I did as a kid. I’ll be coming up to tell you how our little plan is doing and how it will work and to also check up on you.” He said with a surprisingly cute smile as he patted the top of your head and kissed your forehead, even it was covered by the cloth. “See you soon, my love, I love you.” He said before leaning up again and walking towards the door while rearranging his tie, closing it so gently that you couldn’t even hear its knock.
“I told you it would work, Y/N… if only I could show you the face the priest made when I gave him the money to make a fake marriage certificate… it was hilarious..! But it doesn’t matter to you now, does it? I know it’s hard to keep up with me, but this is the only way we can go for a fourth kid…”
Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3
Taglist: @kindofscenic @kindofshyent @the-stinky-winky @amoyanderes
#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin x reader#smut#wanderer genshin#wanderer#wanderer x reader#genshin scara#genshin oneshots#yandere genshin impact#genshin wanderer#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche
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too sweet 1.
Rupert Campbell Black x fem!Baddingham reader
Summary: niece to, godfather Tony Baddingham, returns back to Rutshire after finishing her studies as a lawyer in the city and finds herself in…several…situations at once
word count: 5.6k+
warnings: deceased parents, mild swearing
an: there will be 2-3 chapters to this and consider this like an introductory chapter
-
Chopper fan whirled at a distance just above the grand lawn Tony Baddingham held another one of his evening tea grandeurs at. Some celebratory gathering for another show at Corinium, Rupert couldn’t care less but he had a knack for petty drama. The heads turned at the sound of the whirring, quite the way to crash a party. Bracing himself internally excited for the agitation on Tony’s face of someone disrupting his party like this he smirked at Bas, next to him, lazily rearranging his hung blazer by the crook of his finger over his shoulder. But Bas just shook his head, situational awareness as to who the person may be was about to bring Tony joy instead of annoyance.
Landing the chopper and out of it with a duffle bag across her shoulder the lady ran across the gardens to the public, Rupert’s intrigue at the unfolding scene turned to confusion as Tony’s face was lit up, “Y/n?!” He exclaimed pacing out to her and enlaced her into his arms. “I thought you were getting here tomorrow.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” She giggled returning his hug as the ever stone cold, ruthless Tony Baddingham was cheery like a child on a Christmas morning.
“Ah, kiddo!” He exclaimed, heartened by her gesture and surprise did have him. Kissing the top of her head he turned back to the party where everyone was staring at the interaction. “Y/n right here just got back from London….you send off your little darling girl and she comes back as a lawyer!” Tony flaunted announcing her surprise, putting his arm around shoulder just so proudly.
Rupert had no idea that the mystery Baddingham niece had grown so much. He had been aware of her existence and they had had brief meetings here and there but this was a new wonder to him. Watching her interact with the group, graciously. Exchanging hugs and small talks, sweet homecoming. “She is like the son Tony never had.” Basil commented letting out a puff of smoke which pulled Rupert out of his trance. “No offence.” Basil said in a small voice to Archie who did, get seemingly offended and dismissed himself with an eye roll. Basil simply shrugged that off.
“Swinging city ought to swing her back in no time.” Rupert replied, someone educated and meek seeming like her would not indulge in Rutshire chronicles for all.
“Oh no not this time, she is Corinium crown. Tony is placing all the Corinium lawsuits in her hands which is very trusting for him given this is first job.” Basil briefed Rupert of it, letting out a sigh.
“Family business eh?” Rupert commented as the two of them cackled at the same time, Tony’s values of family business were as grey as his morales. It did seem uncharacteristic for someone well educated and learned from London would work here under Lord Baddingham of all people.
“Tony has a will, should he fall under immediate tragedy…she is to inherit corinium.” Basil said with another inhale of his cigarette he couldn’t pan out of he was jealous or pitied the girl.
“Fuck off” Rupert said somewhat taken aback Tony even thought of something that far. Or the fact that he thought of inheriting that ugly business out to someone.
“Apparently it won’t die with him” Basil said with an exaggerated sigh, “And well…the darling girl gets whatever the darling girl wants. She has changed three boarding schools on whims, has had a chopper licence since 17 because she hates waiting for pilots, basically she was raised the same way as you if you were well educated.”
“I am well educated!” Despite of adhering the rest of information on the surprise guest’s life the last sentence really struck a nerve. Sure he did not have a law degree but he was educated enough.
“Precisely.” Basil said with a dismissive shrug “you do have good enough years on her just lack the Lord Baddingham influence.”
Rupert knew familial histories so well enough, especially with the ever poking Tony Baddingham. Whose elder brother and sister in law, y/n’s parents died in a tragic accident years ago. Leaving her with the eldest of the house, Tony as her godfather. “Godfather is as godfather does.”
“Had I been her godfather she would have turned out less of a cunt don’t you think?” Basil amused with a small smirk.
“She doesn’t seem like one.” Rupert answered, maybe she did not take so much after her godfather’s upbringing because Rupert was friends with her father initially, a respectably content man unlike Tony.
“Oh watch this” Basil said putting his cigarette out as he called after her. “Baby Angel! Long time no see” he said greeting her with a kiss on either side of her face well aware she did not like being referred to with such childish nicknames.
“My uncle from another grandfather.” She replied with a smile on her but it was more of a taunt.
“That relation has nothing to do with you yet you bring it almost every time!” Basil was irked to his core but he did not let it show, mirroring fake enthusiasm to be meeting her.
“Makes a good joke, doesn’t it?” She asked patting his shoulder with a unfazed smile. When Rupert clearing his throat redirected her attention.
“So nice to have you back.” Rupert said as he took her hand in his and planted a kiss on her knuckles, his eyes boring into hers as he let that ever intimate short lived gesture go on. She was quick to retrieve the hand.
“I am not sure I know who you are…” y/n trailed off as Rupert shared a puzzled look with his mate on the side. She may not have recollection to their brief meetings but simply being unaware of who he was? She let a beat of pause go on. “Please, I was kidding, Minister.” letting out a low chuckle she continued, “I just love the look of entitlement, ‘does she live under a rock! How dare she not know who I am!’”
“No, I’m sorry no I didn’t mean it as-“ Rupert began trying to make a save of yet another blow but she stopped him mid way. Just so bitter in the most caramel way possible this woman.
“oh no you don’t have to apologise and make it awkward” she shook her head slightly with as she interrupted him, “I get it. I too would want to be known well for my successful marriage and wobbly athletic career, wait or is it the other way around?” The joke was so well crafted even basil had to suppress a chuckle.
Rupert just started her, he had to take a moment to let that brutal joke in. He was at loss of words but not his charm as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “You have quite the humour there, angel.”
“It’s y/n.” for you, she didn’t say that part out loud and then excused herself as the gentlemen nodded at her exit.
“She obliterated you.” Basil commenced without looking at Rupert, he could bet the man rarely met someone to puncture his pride like this.
“You don’t say!” Rupert said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes, catching one last glance at her as she left them be.
-
The days went slow and hectic living back here for the new lawyer. She found it easy to deal with her uncle most of the time, she had done so all her life and contrary to popular belief he wasn’t as difficult, that was until she had to work for him…telling herself that this is her first job and the ringing words that not-everyone-gets-such-opportunity-handed-out-to-them. Fresh out of college she was just finding it hard to settle into workspace that was all. She had to keep reassuring herself.
“Morning uncle! Can we talk?” She said as she caught Tony hurriedly putting on his blazer for the day.
“Yes darling what is it?” He answered as he sat down on the small chair by the shoe rack to put on his shoes. Straightening his socks as he prompted the girl to go on.
“All these…cases. I have gone through 39 case files this entire time. Don’t you think that’s a bit of an alarming number?” She asked leaning against the staircase pillar.
“Are you sure you aren’t adding legal notices with case files?” Tony inquired, somewhat unfazed with the number he was briefed upon.
“No of course not” she said with a blank expression that he assumed she wouldn’t know to differentiate notices form cases, “Legal notices are somewhat…more alarming.”
“How so?” He scoffed as he lazily tied the laces of his boots.
“I can’t talk to you about this in the office, but have you by any chance committed tax frauds?” Y/n asked keeping her tone light not to sound accusing because she believed he wouldn’t obviously be doing that.
“By any chance?” He asked with a stifled laugh as though finding it absurd that it wasn’t already given. “Oh you sweet summer child. Tax frauds are a part of my business strategy—any business strategy. Matter of fact it’s my favourite hobby”
The colour in her face neatly drained at that admission. She was waiting for him to drop the sarcastic act and scold her as to why she would even bother to ask him such a question. He would surely never do such a thing, she kept waiting and waiting for a several moments for him to tell her otherwise. Leaving her wide eyed and stunned, “are you not joking?”
“Why would I be joking about money like that?” He asked and this time he was genuine with his tone which was even worse.
“Corinium has received a notice-! That is serious…thank god it is our first notice and came in my attendance, that near blind Ancient Greek grandfather of a lawyer Mr. Barnes would have practised sudoku on it and threw it in the trash!” She referred to the Corinium lawsuit ‘team’ which was a few of trainee students and this extremely outdated Mr. Barnes.
“Now Mr. Barnes has been with us for all these years and Corinium has never seen a dark day.” Tony shrugged, “and what really is a notice? A piece of paper at the end of the day.”
“By the government.” Y/n emphasised adding to his sentence feeling more and more distressed at the weight of this conversation. “I can push back one more notice, then another one but after that they could freeze our accounts and all provisions until we pay it back with the appropriate fine.”
“How much is it anyways?” Tony asked with an exasperated sigh as though he wasn’t aware how much he had evaded.
“It is a number so big I can’t even fathom so say it out loud.” She said leaning off of the staircase pillar. “…and I talked to the accounting team, turns out we are already in debt? Which makes us in triple debt.”
“As long as it’s not bankruptcy” Tony said with a breath of exhale, as he stood up. But she didn’t answer and just looked at him, silence speaking way more than any other way she could have conveyed that. “It is not bankruptcy…right?”
“It…could be.” She said with a downcast look which was enough to send the man into a spiral. Kicking the shoe stand he facepalmed himself.
“FUCK” he nearly roared but so used to his antics like this the girl barely flinched, he was a visual representation of her inner turmoil.
“Don’t speak of this to anyone at the office…it’s not a tax fraud. You don’t know a tax fraud—admission is like digging your grave. I could buy us time push the notice further back but just be nonchalant about it.” She advised him, he seemed to not be digesting it well.
“Can we call this a tax mistake? Do a jury duty? Put on a shitshow or something?” Tony proposed as he was pacing back and forth.
She let a moment slip by for him to reconsider that prospect before coming up with an answer, this isn’t kindergarten: she wanted to tell the man. “It’s the government…” she trailed off hoping that held some account for him.
“Right right yes.” Tony nodded hoping that could go on, all these years they haven’t received a notice to the extent of bankruptcy but perhaps this is all the years pilling up then?
“We can find a way out yeah? Just go to work like it’s any other day and don’t mention to anyone. Especially not that hag Mr. Barnes” She instructed her uncle as he left with a distasteful mood. Leaving her with similar with addition of distress for the problem at hand as well.
In order to clear her mind, fresh air ought to make do being the freest source perhaps. Strolling about the stables she came upon the horses, her long forgotten hobby of polo. Quite the phase, basil had picked up what put down so the horses were well kept. Initially she had just taken herself out for a walk, then it was a horse ride and somehow some way she had just found her way back to the old polo practise ground. She thought of blowing the dust away from her polo days, practising on the side lines leaning over with the mallet. Swinging the ball from the top of the saddle, recalling the way she was taught.
Y/n was out of the main pitch for others to be practising because she was just doing swing practise on the horse and didn’t want to get in the middle of bigger runs going on at the side. It was somewhat earlier in the morning still, not crowded at all you could say. People mainly practiced in teams at the ground.
Regardless, to her blossoming luck another such practiser was present at the same time. Rupert, the silhouette from afar was perhaps Bas to him since he recognised whose horse it was. Wanting to rile him up for banter, he sped up Rocky in the other horse’s, (supposedly Bas’s) direction. As he got nearer and nearer he realised that wasn’t actually Basil but it was his horse though, he was confused but Rocky spun around so fast the other horse neighed, swaying to the side in a frantic state. Which causes the rider, y/n to loose her balance as she fell off the saddle into the ground.
Rupert quickly retrieved the strings from Rocky’s saddle as he looked back, by now he had recognised exactly who he had mistaken basil for and felt uncharacteristically bad, “I am so so sorry my love I thought you were bas-“ he said as he paced towards her trying to hold her up from her arms but she was quick to yank away and stand up herself.
“Piss off.” It wasn’t that hard of a fall, but today had begun off to such a poor start she had come here to clear her head and yet fell on her face. By him, of all people.
“It was a mistake, it wasn’t my intention that you fall—are you alright? Are you hurt?” He asked refraining from touching her but leant in closer bending a bit to her frame to examine if she was hurt bad or not?
“I am fine.” She said with an exhale, brushing off dirt from her clothes and taking a step back, curt reply and a frown on her face. Y/n realised she did not have to tolerate this bloke since they were not in a societal setting.
“You know you don’t have to hold your uncle’s disdain towards me? We are both completely different people are we not?” He said trying to make direct conversation to get to the root of her problem with him.
“I don’t hold his disdain against you.” She said, this man was so out of touch almost as if no one had ever not kissed his arse in every conversation that he’s had.
“Then why must you act so crude.” He pointed out as he crossed his arms casually.
“You just made me fall off my horse when I was on the sidelines.” Y/n replied with a raise of her brow to the obviousness in her answer and she did get his point, she did hold disdain against him. It just baffled her that everyone did not.
She had been around for over a month now and every party or run ins the both would have with another she subjected such scrutiny of his character over and over again. Uncalled for insults when he didn’t even say anything to prove that in the first place. He knew that she was aware what he was referring to, “I meant in retrospect, it’s like you have it out for me.”
“Have you considered that you may not be as likeable as you think?” She pondered straight the saddle strings back in its place as she pet her horse to calm down after the quite figurative jump-scare.
“See, see you’re doing it again!” Rupert pointed out exclaiming as if it would win him some reputation in her eyes.
“I just don’t want to entertain conversations with you” scoffing as she looked away from him stepping forward to the horse gently caressing the slope of its face.
Following her steps Rupert did the same and got in front of her eye sight again, “afraid you might find me likeable if you did?” He said
reciprocating her action of caressing the horse, putting his hand just a bit above hers “perhaps more than likeable?”
“I’m afraid of wasting my time because you disinterest me and bore me to death.” Replying plainly she withdrew her hand and maintained an arm’s length distance yet again. This time she ought to exit before this man ruins her pre-ruined day even more.
“Come on, my love it was only a joke.” He sighed with his classic charismatic smirk on his face as he watched her get on the horse. She didn’t even deem him worthy enough for her last word as she muttered a curse word under her breath and turned away with her horse leaving him to himself and Rocky.
-
A week since the tax scandal at Corinium, moreover a week since the scandal had come to light to the newest and the only functional lawyer the company had ever had. All the paperwork, the account meets, crippling debt to the company really distressed her to no end, obviously there was an entire family fortune at stake.
Announcing hurried and frantic presence at Basil’s pub, calling after him on the slowest hour of the day. “Basil!” She exclaimed, depending upon the day she added the term uncle optionally, today was not that sort of a day.
“In here” the man answered lazily, yet again to add to her marvellous day Rupert was present with him. Lounging by the window as basil was on the barstool, drinks and smokes.
If she were to conclude that the two of them came in a package deal she wouldn’t be wrong. “How much is the revenue for this place?”
“If you are looking to partner up with him, get back in line because I was the first to propose that and I have already been refused.” Rupert commented as the pair of best mates shared a snicker. Every time he would study y/n that week, it would seem like the weight of the world she was carrying on her shoulders was increasing more and more.
“Another family business you want to get into baby angel?” Basil asked leaning back on his seat, couldn’t miss the joke despite the urgency in her tone.
“No, I am seriously asking you.” She told him as she opened the file, tucked to het arm side. To recalculate something, the pile of pages she had filed were humongous. “What is the revenue?”
Basil just laughed, unapologetically and looked at Rupert who could not hold it back either. Both of them laughing like some inside joke she wasn’t in on, “Revenue? For this place?” Rupert laughed even harder “you know it’s adorable that you walk about in Knightsbridge tailored suits and blazers and that inherent frown but these big words…” he laughed catching his breathe. Basil said “Revenue” again and he lost his composure the second time.
“You earn nothing from this place?” She inquired from basil completely disregarding Rupert’s opinion.
“Not yet, this place is a passion project.” Basil explained vaguely which basically meant zero revenue.
“We are the ones who usually drink up everything, then there’s those prekend parties, the weekends, Monday blues, terrible things Tuesday and Wednesday is off mainly yeah?” Rupert recollected the entire schedule for Basil’s ‘passion project’.
“But it’s still got potential, besides it was never intended for income”Basil said with a dismissive shrug.
Could not be bothered more to be dragged into this family business mess further, adhering this information was reason enough why they were nearly bankrupt. “Bas, can you just go back home and explain that to uncle Tony it’s a bit urgent.”
“Sure is” Basil said making no attempt to move from his seat and leave home to visit Tony.
“No it, is.” She emphasised again, had the place any financial potential that conversation would not be difficult to be relayed on Tony but since that wasn’t the case, Basil can have at it and explain himself. “Urgent as in, if the only revenue this shithole brings is by selling the place, then we are selling the place. And if you mean to change that you have to go and have that conversation for yourself.”
“What could be urgent to that extent?” Rupert asked puzzled and the scenario because Lord Baddingham was not at all into having business conversations with his dear younger brother so it must not be business. Not at this extent anyways.
“Can you stop treating your nose like your cock and stop poking it everywhere?” Y/n retaliated very rudely this time to a simply curios question. But she could not care this was the third button he had pushed in the same conversation.
Alarmed and frustrated at that Basil stood up with a heavy side from his seat finally. “Y/n don’t be uncouth.” He corrected her as if that held any weight for her.
“No offence taken.” Rupert said lighting up a cigarette regardless, he was used to the uncalled for dialogues now.
Basil went ahead to grab his coat and remembered a set of instruction, “also, Tony happens to have fired the stable staff for some apparent reason now do not forget to put the horses back in there place properly. Ryder and Ranger have wandered off twice because of you!”
“—because of me?” She did not take well to any kind of accusation, true or false.
“Yes! You.” He said as he put on his coat to leave ever so urgently. “Horse of the week is one thing but must you take a different variety out everyday?”
“Hypocritical how you didn’t have the same sentiments with your friend here and women. Could’ve saved a marriage or two…” and trailed off to dismiss and pass around the blame. Knowing he couldn’t win this Rupert just rolled his eyes exhaling puff of smoke, as did Basil. Accepting his defeat and exiting the revenue-less place.
She walked across the bar counter to get herself a soda, sugar rush would not help her nerves but it could at least try. Not drinking on the job nor in general. Popping the soda can she came across the island again, “you know love if you plan to carry the weight of the world all the time you might want something stronger than that.”
“I am still working.” She told him in between big sips from the can, without even bothering to look at him.
“Running Tony’s errands is work?” Rupert amused trying to hold her short gazes. Ever insulting and poking conversation that he had with her seemed to pull him to her, but to what end? He couldn’t clarify himself.
“This, this isn’t an errand. I am collecting possible family incomes and land worths to keep the company afloat. Basil would tell you anyways so fuck it, Corinium is on the verge of bankruptcy and this pub, two out of seven helicopters because Tony wouldn’t budge, the old abandoned garden on the other side of town…they all could barely make ends meet and the amount of notices I push and write back to everyday is ridiculous-“
The mention of old garden made him interrupt her in a second, “you don’t mean the garden, the one by the stream do you?”
“Yes, that one…” she trailed off with little significance to its name. “God willing someone buys that stupid chunk of land.”
“You can’t possibly consider selling that off y/n, that was your father’s favourite place.” Rupert mentioned, well away Tony would have filled her ears of the fact that the old garden land was insignificant to keep his greedy share of the helicopters. “That is your true inheritance.”
“How would you know that?” She asked with a hesitant scoff, how could he be more informed of her father’s favourite places in this town. If so her uncle would have told her.
“I was close friends with him at one point, that stream…the wonders of it in the summer were other worldly. He loved that place like a second house.” Rupert told her and the sense of genuine admiration in his voice made her think otherwise.
“You were?” Y/n was confused, having lost her parents at a formative age she did not know much about either of them other than relatives telling her. “What was he like?” She asked not like suspecting him or cross checking but for actual enlightenment.
“He was a force of nature, everyone’s problems were his problems, he would jump in head first to help out anyone. Even people he barely knew.” He narrated reminiscing about the man, “A senior to your uncle, me, even bas…so wilful and steady in his mind, he poured his soul into everything.” He paused to let that sink in, by studying the look on her face it was new information to her. “It was after your birth I saw him less and less, I’d just started off training back then I barely came here. He was very fond of you, your mother too. Their loss was truly tragic…they would have been very proud of you, though you take after your uncle.”
His words were very heartwarming and captivating until he compared her to Tony, her uncle was very dear to her but he knew Rupert did not mean it that way. He only meant to highlight the bad bits of Lord Baddingham and associated her in the very same poor light. “Right, thanks.” She replied abruptly to stop him from going any further. A trip in the past to meet the characters of her parents at the cost of harsh perception of his eyes. No thanks. “I have to get going.”
-
The entire day after that amongst the pre existing mess, y/n thought of Rupert’s words. He did not even know her so well yet he associated her to be taking after Tony, as though carved out of all his evil. She did not turn a blind eye to her uncle’s flaws. She had been hyper aware of those even growing up. She knew how everyone else saw the man, cold and deceptive. Is that how Rupert saw her? She pondered to herself out for a walk at night, did it matter what he thought of her? Surely not. But it did not cease to bother her, she held her own obvious reasons of him being a deceitful, boastful and arrogantly proud man against him. But she was none of that? She wasn’t any of Tony’s vices either. Then why must he characterise her as such. She came upon the wide open stable doors on her stroll out and noticed Ryder missing from his place. “Oh gods not again.” She sighed heavily, realising she forgot to put him in his place properly again and the horse wandered off.
Couldn’t have gone so far, y/n thought to herself hugging her cardigan closer to herself as she walked through nearly three estates looking for the stallion. “Ryder!” She exclaimed wearily having no success of his sight so far.
“He wandered off again?” Rupert’s voice asked from behind as he approached from his gardens. All the sights but the godforsaken horse.
“Yeah…” she trailed off with a deep exhale meaning to squirm out of this conversation as fast as she could.
But he would not let her, “how long have you been looking for?” He asked walking up to her, in his gardens it was almost as if the crazy what-ifs in his mind were appearing outside.
“Not so long, it is alright I will find him” she replied with a courteous smile and nodded meaning to walk out his beloved property.
“Not so long and you just happen to end up here in my gardens, calling out for a rider?” Rupert said with a flirtatious undertone, she never entertained this behaviour which motivated him to do it more.
“Ryder is his name.” She said emphasising on the proper noun even though he knew that initially. “And you aren’t the 8th wonder of the world for me to walk across three estates to come and see on such a cold hour of the day.”
“I could potentially sue you for trespassing” He quipped proposing a hoax threat just to get under her skin.
“And I would gladly surrender, one gets 4 months for trespassing I would gladly fight for 4 more so I don’t have to see your smug face nor be in this hellhole!” She exclaimed draining out all her pent up frustrations altogether.
“Oh darling take a breath” he guided her motioning an inhale himself. “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
“Fuck off!” Letting out a frustrated huff she sighed slumping her shoulders “i don’t even like you, matter of fact I don’t even like talking to you and you do this every time” she said closing the distance between them pointing at his chest. “You-you get in my head you plant all these ridiculous doubts that someone like me should not be taking from you. I’m nothing like my uncle, I’m also nothing like you! I’m not like those wives of emotionally depriving husbands that are swooned by you! I personally, despise you!”
“You might not be any of those things but I am a very emotionally invested in you, I am swooned by you, you! You are at fault. You get not only inside my head but my heart and you’ve walked all over my sense of self and peace! You treat me so poorly and I’m this enthralled by you and yet you starve me of your good side-you starve me of your genuine smile and your laughter—“ he went on letting his pent up feelings all out because she got confrontational.
“Stop it-stop it I don’t want to hear this” she said turning away to leave knowing well enough this was another one of his jests and unserious remarks to toy with her. But he tugged her to himself holding her by her wrists.
“No you will hear this, personally, I despise you too!” Rupert repeated her words gripping both of her hands in just one, bringing them to his heart, “You make my heart beat so much faster and then you speak of me like I ought no hold no value in your world-“
“Stop talking—!” She wanted him to stop talking yet each one of his words were getting engraved in her brain. The sleep of this night, should it come will be long bothered by this very scene replaying over and over and the worst part was that she did not want to back away from him. How easily he held her to himself and how right she fight in his stature, so unknown to her composure.
“-that hurts. And it hurts that I hold such strong feelings that are so insignificant to you. It is perhaps not your fault but my foolish heart to fall for someone so taken to their own world—“
Before he could go on talking more and more she crashed her lips onto his raising a bit on her toes to reach up to his face. Rupert did stop talking, in the best way possible in his idea, smiling into the kiss he let go off her wrists and held her closer by her waist, placing his other hand by face. Deepening the kiss as he poured all his feelings out. Y/n held him, gripping his shirt for support as the two shared a overdramatised, angsty, passion filled kiss.
Situational bliss could last only for so long as y/n pulled away, to catch a breath, their eyes boring into each other. Even though reaching back to her senses…he did not let her out of his embrace yet. Sharing a moment in tranquil silence with the drum of their hearts beating in their ears. “No…” she trailed off with a heavy sigh breaking eye contact with him, “I have to go” she said pulling away.
It was no use calling out for her to wait because she was already sprinting away. Quite literally. All he could do was watch her leave and think to himself, she is going to be the death of me.
—
SORRY if this is fast paced man I am v fond of this format for some reason…next parts soon enough
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Let me know if you want to be tagged AND STAY HYDRATED
#rupert campbell black x fem!reader#rupert campbell x reader#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell black fanfiction#rupert campbell black#Rupert campbell black imagine
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‘we’re teaming up’
nam-gyu x fem reader
summary:
as a smart kid you used to tutor a lot of troubled kids back in the days, what happens when one of them happens to save your life?
——————————————————————————
The announcement of the third game came with chilling simplicity: “The next game is Mingle, you must find someone and pair up. Those unpaired at the end of the timer will be eliminated’
The room exploded into chaos as players scrambled to secure their survival. You stood at the edge of the room, your mind racing. You had made it through the first two games alone, keeping your head down and avoiding alliances. But now, that strategy was useless. You needed someone.
Nam-gyu leaned against a far wall, watching the chaos unfold with his usual air of disdain. He wasn’t worried. People always gravitated toward him, whether it was out of desperation or because they believed his confident smirk meant he had a plan.
He scanned the room lazily, sizing up potential partners. Then his gaze landed on you.
His stomach twisted.
It had been years, but he recognized you instantly. You were his old tutor, the one who had spent hours trying to drill knowledge into his thick skull. The one who constantly called him out for cutting corners, for cheating, for thinking charm could get him everything he wanted.
He hated you for it.
You had always looked down on him, he thought bitterly, like you were better than him just because you were smarter. Seeing you here, desperate and vulnerable, stirred something ugly inside him.
“217,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Of course, you’d end up here.
Nam-gyu’s gaze followed you as you moved cautiously through the crowd, trying to find a partner. You were struggling, your wary demeanor making it clear you didn’t trust anyone. The timer was ticking down, and it was obvious you were running out of options.
He should feel satisfied, he thought. Watching you squirm like this, it was almost poetic.
But then he saw two larger players cornering you, their voices low and menacing. You tried to stand your ground, but they weren’t backing off.
Nam-gyu clenched his jaw.
He didn’t owe you anything. If anything, he should be glad to see you fail. But as much as he hated you, the thought of watching you get eliminated like this, scared, cornered. It made him sick.
“Damn it,” he muttered, pushing off the wall and making his way toward you.
The two players looked up as Nam-gyu approached, his expression dark. “Back off,” he said sharply.
One of them sneered. “What’s it to you?”
Nam-gyu smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You really want to waste time on this when the clock’s ticking?”
The two players exchanged glances before backing off, muttering curses under their breath.
You stared at Nam-gyu, stunned. “Why—”
“Don’t,” he snapped, cutting you off. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”
He grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. “We’re teaming up,” he said bluntly. “Not because I want to, but because I’m not stupid enough to let someone else grab you first.”
You bristled, your pride warring with your survival instinct. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Good,” he said coldly. “I didn’t want to give it.”
The loudspeaker blared: “One minute remaining.”
You hesitated, your gaze searching his face. For a moment, you thought he might let you go, might walk away and leave you to fend for yourself. But then his grip tightened, and he pulled you toward the center of the room.
When the timer hit zero, you found yourself paired with Nam-gyu.
When the round ended Nam-gyu didn’t bother to look at you as he walked out of the small room, his expression unreadable. But as much as he hated you, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that saving you had been the right choice.
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Thawing Out
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16
cw: modern au, some mature themes (in that it vaguely references past smut), allusion to past abusive dynamics/child abuse, thoughts of being undeserving and general emotional overwhelm
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words
Sirius becomes aware of his trembling while you’re waiting for your score. It’s not unusual, he could tell himself, just the adrenaline of a big performance working its way out of his system, but he knows better.
Seeing his parents shouldn’t bother him. It doesn’t, really—his tolerance for their shit is certainly lower than when he lived in their house, but he’s not as scared of them as he used to be either. Sirius isn’t sure what’s rattling him so badly now. Maybe it’s you. You and Remus, his team.
Last night felt like a dream. It would have been easy to believe the two of you had been drinking as he had earlier, the way you’d moved together as though in a trance, heavy kisses and sweet, curious touches and the sort of words Sirius has only ever heard in his fantasies. After, when Remus thought you were both asleep, he’d pressed a kiss to your forehead and trailed his fingers through Sirius’ hair like Sirius was a gift to touch.
Sirius stayed half awake through most of the night, blissfully aware of every soft noise Remus made in his sleep, every shift of your body against his. It really was like a long dream, hazy and wonderful. Too good to last.
Waking felt only right. Sirius is not and never has been accustomed to hoping for better than he deserves. And reality is still better; he’s lucky to have it.
By the time he was fully conscious you and Remus were already moving, seemingly in the midst of a panic Sirius didn’t feel any particular need to contribute to. Competition loomed. The two of you seemed at war for who could be the sweetest and most prepared, each bringing caddies of drinks and each trying to sweeten his coffee enough to make it comparable to his beloved caramel latte from back home (neither of you were successful, but Sirius appreciated the effort nonetheless). You’d been fidgety and Remus reticent, but none of you had spoken about the night before. Sirius thought maybe it was best that way; he’d likely play the memory over in his head for the rest of his life, but he’d never ask anything more from either of you than a single night. Remus had been trying to soothe him and you’d been, at best, curious; it didn't have to mean anything. Sirius’ feelings were raw and unruly, but they weren’t your problem. You hadn’t signed on for that. He could tuck them back away.
Then his parents had reared their ugly heads. You’d spoken when Sirius couldn’t—shouted, really. You were ferocious, a force of nature, and then Remus’ voice had been hard as steel when he’d told them to leave. He’d sent the two of you ahead, Sirius still reeling and you trying to steady him, and Remus returned having kicked Sirius’ mother and father out of the rink. (Kicked out! A teenage Sirius would have laughed for days.) You’d stood up for him, really defended him, the both of you.
The knowledge had grounded him enough to hone his hurricane of emotions into determination just before your names were announced. On the ice, Sirius felt your stare as well as Remus’, on him and on each other, and it felt like his lungs were suddenly getting more air than they ever had before. He’d done his best to channel all of it into the routine, and then he was in the kiss and cry, both of your arms around him and this odd feeling shooting all the way down into his fingertips.
He registers your score only distantly. It places you second, at least for the time being. There are a few pairs who still have to compete.
Sirius is happy. He thinks he is, at least, he’s got everything he could possibly want. Two of the best people he’s ever known raining affection down on him like a torrent, a real chance at medaling in the Olympics, and his parents forced to watch it on TV instead of from the stands. He’s so happy he’s shaking with it.
“Sirius.” You’re smiling at him, tears in your eyes, but there’s an uncertainty about your expression. “Are you okay?”
Sirius’ throat tightens, but he speaks through it, squeezing your shoulders and trying to mirror your excitement. “Yeah. Aren’t you?”
Evidently, his performance isn’t as persuasive as he’d like. Your brows bunch. “Of course I am, but…”
To your credit, you’ve never brought up Sirius’ parents after he moved out. Sirius will sometimes joke about it, and you’ll laugh along, but you don’t push him to talk about the things he’s not ready for. He can see you battling that instinct now, trying to decide whether to leave him be or push the issue when you know something’s wrong.
“Let’s get away from here,” says Remus in his usual calm way. He touches a hand between your shoulder blades, encouraging you out of the kiss and cry, knowing Sirius will follow. There’s a short hallway, at the end of it the press room, but Remus steps into a locker room halfway down.
Sirius frowns. “We have to go take questions—”
“They can wait,” Remus says. He sits down on a bench, stretching his leg out in front of him. “Do you need a few minutes?”
Sirius feigns confusion, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”
Remus is unconvinced. “You didn’t really have time to process before going out on the ice. I can’t…I don’t know all about what happened out there, but if it were me I imagine I’d need a while to sort myself out.”
Sirius feels a familiar ire rising up in him, the itch for a good brawl. “Your imaginings aren’t a lot to go off, though, are they? I don’t need anything.”
“Sirius,” you say, softly. Without warning, or without any warnings Sirius can discern, you wrap your arms around him. The stretchy material of your costume slides against his, your wrists crossing over his back and palms flattening by his shoulder blades. After a second Sirius starts to feel like a prick for not hugging you back, so he does.
“Don’t,” you murmur, chin pushing into his shoulder. “You’re shaking.”
So, that’s obvious then.
Sirius holds you close, and he wonders if he could do more. This—hugging—has always been a privilege he felt like he hadn’t earned, but it’s not new. Is he still allowed to kiss you? If he pressed his nose to your neck and stayed there, would you push him away?
He needs you to stroke his hair, or for Remus to call him one of his treacly pet names, to know that these looks passing between you mean something.
“I’m okay,” he says, just as softly. “My parents can’t get to me like that anymore.”
Remus has that infuriatingly attractive perceptive look again, tinged now with sadness. He asks gently, “What’s the matter, then?”
“I…” Sirius shakes his head. He has the urge to think up a lie, something like I’m sore from all the fucking last night or my left sock is bunched horribly in the toe of my skate, but then you’re letting him go, looking up at him, and Sirius finds that he feels not trapped but safe between your gazes. “I’m confused.”
You blink, surprised, but Remus looks as though he understands. “You mean about…”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, god.” Remus lets out a heaving sigh, some tension Sirius hadn’t noticed in his posture releasing. “Me too.”
It’s so unlike him that Sirius laughs. Remus chuckles, too, and you join in somewhat bemusedly. Uncertainty still hangs in the room, but there’s no awkwardness between you. How could there be?
“We didn’t really have the chance to talk anything over, did we?” asks Remus.
“Did we not?” You’re looking between them, seeming genuinely perplexed.
Sirius raises an eyebrow at you. “Not that I recall. I seem to remember the bloody Olympics getting in the way.”
Remus laughs again. You look as surprised as Sirius by this; it’s probably as unwound as you’ve ever seen him. Sirius thinks he could get drunk on the sound.
“I just…” You smile, tentatively. “I thought we talked about it last night.”
Sirius leans his shoulder against the wall, trying to read you. “What do you think we talked about last night?”
“We…didn’t you say…” Your brows draw together for a few moments before your expression shifts, eyes widening. “Was it just sex?”
Sirius’ heart clenches. He shakes his head. He hates—hates—putting his feelings out to be inspected and judged, but he can’t leave you out here by yourself. “Not for me.”
“We were the ones who sprung it all on you,” Remus tells you gently. “It would be understandable if you thought it was only for the night.”
Your arms wrap around your middle, and you’re rubbing your lips together again. Sirius really wishes he could kiss you. He wants, suddenly desperately, to stop talking about all of this and go straight back to bed; he doesn’t care if he’s the one who brought it up. He’ll take whatever he can get with both of you.
“I…was confused, at first,” you admit. “I hadn’t really considered it before, but I think maybe I just hadn’t let myself consider it? I don’t know if that makes sense.”
Your voice is getting smaller as you talk. Sirius can’t stand it.
“It does,” he says. “Listen, as far as I’m concerned, whatever you want it to be, it can. I don’t want to lose either of you.”
No one has ever spoken up for Sirius the way you both did today. Whatever kind you decide to make it, there’s love between you. It’s better than he deserves, but he won’t give it up.
“Sirius.” Remus’ tone is so laden with sympathy Sirius can’t stand it. He doesn’t want to look at him, at either of you, but he’ll never not rise to a challenge. The amber eyes that meet his are warm enough to melt in.
“You couldn’t lose us,” Remus says simply.
Sirius’ hands begin shaking worse than ever.
“Obviously not.” You look almost offended. No longer small, though, so he supposes he’ll take his wins where he can get them. “I love you. I love both of you. I didn’t really think about how or—or in what way until recently, but that’s not going to change. I’m always going to care about you guys. Still, I…I would like to try.” You grow bashful again. Sirius catches’ Remus’ lips twitching at the change. “It wasn’t just sex for me.”
Sirius’ heart inflates. You both look to Remus. He looks surprised to be considered, as if you might’ve forgotten he was there.
“It was never just that for me,” he says, in that blunt way you can only ever really surprise out of him. Sirius feels himself beginning to smile, trying to quell it so Remus can finish. The other boy starts choosing his words more carefully, “I didn’t think…I didn’t want to presume anything, but I think I’ve wanted for more with the both of you for…well, probably since that first week.” His gaze drifts downward, brows pinching concernedly. “Oh, love, stop shaking. Come here, you’re alright.”
Sirius would be a fool to turn down an offer like that. He pushes off from the wall, going to sit beside Remus on the bench. You follow, sitting on Sirius’ other side and snaking your arms around his waist in a tight hug while Remus’ arm comes to rest across his shoulders. The weight of both of you is strangely reassuring; again, Sirius has that feeling, that he’s not trapped but engulfed. Embraced.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips to his shoulder. “They shouldn’t have been here.”
Sirius lifts a hand, bringing it around your head to where a few pieces of hair have begun rebelling against the style you’d put it in for competition. He runs one between his fingers, because he can.
“It’s really okay,” he says. “I’m not upset. I don’t know why I’m still reacting like this. I feel fine.”
Remus makes a considerate humming sound. “It’s been a long day.”
“It’s not even noon,” you point out.
Sirius laughs, and the two of you do, too, holding onto each other despite your exhaustion.
“A lot has happened,” Remus amends. “We can relax now, though, yeah? No more parents, no more competition. You’ve done the best you can, and it was amazing, truly, but now you can ease up.”
Sirius is beginning to feel better, some unknown part of him unspooling. There was the disbelief, the hazy dream of last night. Then the fraught, tremulous happiness of morning, charged looks and harsh words spoken not at but for each other. And then there’s this. New, precious, but it doesn’t feel delicate. It feels like the rush of lowering you into a death spiral and knowing he can trust you to bear it. Knowing you can trust him to keep you up.
You sigh. “We still have to talk to the press, though.”
“Oh, that’s not so bad.” Remus’ arm tightens around Sirius’ shoulders, squeezing. There’s a smile in his voice. “You’ll do great. Who wouldn’t love the two of you?”
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Hiii,
By any chance can you write academic rivals for either Ellie or Abby?? It doesn’t have to have smut but I just need some angst and tension >:)
YES OFC I CAN?! chat idk how to write Abby to the point where it’s accurate so I’ll stick to Ellie (for now). And uhh this is my first time writing this trope cus ive lowkey never really liked it 😕 BUT I HOPE YOU DO!! Also, I hope its not too long 4 u 😇
Paper Thin Hatred
Ellie Williams x FEMALE Reader || Academic Rivals (fluff)
You’re going in blind, no summary needed.
Warning(s): Sexual tension; making out, mentions of drugs and violence (though it’s not described). Use of y/n like once. (blehh).
A/N: I tried my best gn. If you see any mistakes, no you didnt. I’m not the best at writing angst, i hate sad stuff, so Idk if I did a good job lol.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
You hated her.
Hated how effortlessly smart she was, able to ace every test without the need to lay even a finger on her notes. How she could easily attract everyone and anyone with a single look. How every teacher in your school had this.. bias on her. She was the exception, the favourite. It was unfair and stupid.
No matter how hard you tried, how hard you worked, it was never enough to pass her. There was nothing you could do. Study? Already tried it, ended up two points off from her perfect hundred percentage. Tutoring? Done, but it was never efficient and only wasted the little time you had after school. You had tried everything. But you still came no where near where she was.
Ever since the first grade, you’d been competing with her, butting heads on every test, every assignment, and even every small quizz. From announcing your test scores to the class after realizing you’d topped her to keeping them a secret after finding out you scored lower than her, you’d grown to despise her.
This girl, who you despised, was Ellie Williams, the top student at your school. She was, also, a dickhead to everyone else but her teachers and, surprisingly, you. She’d never think to uttered an insult in your direction, let alone bring your name up in her shit talking sessions. Even so, she was still a stuck-up brat. Thinking she was better than everyone else, demanding respect and attention.
But, even with all these reasons you hate her for, you couldn’t help but admire her carefree spirit. Holding a blunt in the bathroom and smoking it through with her group of friends. Who all, by the way, were assholes. Bullies, to be frank. You didn’t understand why Ellie hung out with a bunch of losers when she could easily make friends with someone like her, someone as smart and collected. She didn’t care. And, sometimes, you wished you didn’t either. The two of you were opposites. You wanted to forget about the grudge you’d been holding against her but you just.. couldn’t. Not when you your competitive nature shook it’s ugly head everytime you were near the auburn girl.
You cared too much, you couldn’t just flip a switch and change that?
It was none of your business, is what you’d tell yourself everytime you found your thoughts wandering off to her. And, either way, having her hang out with those kinds of people meant she would be sure to slack off. Peer pressure was a real deal, and you silently wished it’d throw Ellie down from the title of being the school’s number one student.
You were practically praying for it.
⊹₊⟡⋆
With a push on the doors, you enter the library. Backpack over your shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, you look for a good place to sit. Choosing an empty corner, you got to work; Pages flipping, pen writing, and keys typing, you were almost finished with an essay of yours.
That was, until Williams showed up. A strong push on the doors you’d just came from, she confidently walked in with her hands in her pockets. She looked around to find herself, and the crowd of fans behind her, a seat. Fans, as in her loser friends. They only hung out with her because she was relevant. And she only hung out with them for free cigarettes, weed, and whatever the hell she had going on. She wore a dark blue hoodie with her usual grey sweatpants. As confident as she was, she looked fucking homeless; even though you found yourself raked over her figure.
She was lean, well built, and, clearly, visited the gym frequently. You’d never seen her flex though, only on her social media did she show off those biceps of her. Not that you cared.
When Ellie’s green eyes spotted you, she let out a devilish grin before walking over to you. Her friend group followed behind like a bunch of dogs.
“Hey, sweet thing.” Leaning a hand on your table she played with one of your pens. Without hesitation, you snatched it from her hand and gave her the dirtiest look on the face of earth. “What do you want? You know the library isn’t for fucking around, right?” With your voice as hostile as ever, all you wanted was for Ellie to fuck off. More so her friends. “I’m whispering.” She was, matter of fact she was being pretty respectful. Quiet and polite, yet so bold and confident. It pissed you off. Everything the bitch did had your blood boiling. “Anyways, what are you up to? Saw you all by yourself, need some company?” She was mocking you, evident in the way she looked down at you. As if to keep you in your place. You wanted to shove a fist in her smug little face. “I’m good.”
No way Ellie would listen to you. So, with a motion to her friends she pulled a chair beside you and sat down. Her sorry-ass friend-group walked away with a bitter chuckle. How unlucky could you get? Legs spread with her arms inbetween them she gave you a smile. Her eyes roamed over your form and then the table infront of you. Everything was neatly organized, perfectly arranged. “Need help with that essay? Or ya’ just gonna be stubborn?” You chose being stubborn. “I don’t need your help, nor do I need you to be near me.” Turning your attention back to the computer, you hoped she’d just get bored and leave. But it seemed like your annoyance only fueled her amusement, because she couldn’t keep herself from leaning closer and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Stay still.”
Like hell you would. Recoiling, you sigh in frustration. “Why the—“ An arm interrupted and pulled you back into position and she, again, rested her chin on your shoulder. Ellie was fucking strong. And, you’d only just now realized the physical power she had over you. She not only had the smarts, but she had the body. God damn it, she was better than you at everything. “Let me help.” Who the hell did she think she was? Helping you? Just because she aced every test? That didn’t mean shit. She had no right to tell you what to do, make you do what she wanted you to. Clenching your jaw, you faught the urge to push her off you and instead opted for a less obnoxious way to escape; to leave.
“I don’t need your help, like I said before I’m good.” Shrugging her off of you, you stuff everything back into your backpack with organization being the last thing on your mind. “I was trying to be nice, why the hell are you so damn stuck-up?” Scoffing and leaning back against her chair, the auburn haired girl crossed her arms and looked you up and down. The quiet action had your nerves on edge, causing a fire of insecurity to spread through your body.
She’s judging you, probably thinks you’re stupid. Maybe even thinks you’re overreacting. Is it your body she’s quietly examining or your mind? Is she noticing the curves or the faults of your figure? Either way, you needed to get the fuck out of there.
Without a word, you pull your backpack over a shoulder and bolt towards the door. The door that looked heavenly as you pushed it open. The outside air felt so much better, so much more comfortable. Your body wasn’t tense anymore, nor was your breathing shaky and stiff. The cool breeze entered your nose and you took your time to relax. Just when you were beginning to cool down, you hear this agitating voice from behind.
“Will you listen?!” You felt a tug at your wrist in which you were turned you around to face Ellie. Who was now infront of you with furrowed brows, a narrowing gaze, and that.. look on her face. The subtle expression she had was too difficult to decipher, so you gave up on even bothering to put energy into her. Especially right now. She was staring down at you, probably trying to coax out a response. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off, alright? I just..” Your heart felt like it could practically jump out your chest the more she stood there. So close yet so far. “I didn’t think you’d get mad. I.. I’m sorry for being all up in your space.” Maybe her apology was your last straw because the next thing that came out your mouth left her feeling rejected— as you’d describe it.
“You think walking around with straight A’s makes you all that?” Your furrowed brows meet her, now, raised ones, she looks confused. “I don’t give a damn about how you feel, never have never will. You’re some stuck-up wannabe and I’d rather stay the hell away from you. Got that, Williams?” You were speaking your truth, telling her what you’d been wanting to since the day you first met her. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m fine by myself.” The hostility in your words made Ellie take a step back, her expression showing just how surprised she was. The tension was thick in the cool autumn air. The breeze blew past you and you had to force yourself to meet her eyes— Her eyes that has this look of disappointment within them. Why? You wanted to ask. But, then again, you didn’t really care.
“Yeah. Alright.” Was her response, her voice quiet and low as she looked down and fidgeted with her two hands. Intertwining her fingers, picking on her nails, and even squeezing her thumb. Her jaw clenched and she averted you completely. “I’m sorry..”
You’d just bruised her ego.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆
The week before spring break, you were in class worrying your pretty ass off about all the busy work your teachers had given you. You’re talkin’ stacks of assignments and essays. Videos to watch, quizzes to answer, and books to read. With a sigh of exhaustion, you wait impatiently for class to begin. It was a typical monday, everyone was sleep deprived and already knocked out with their heads on their desks. It was a depressing sight.
But, one thing that was nagging at you all weekend was Ellie. Ironic or not, you had a heavy heart ever since you walked away from her that friday afternoon. The way she looked down, her brows furrowed with embarrassment, and her hands fidgeting with one another. The moment replayed in your head every night, causing you to loose focus on sleep and studying. Since when had you been so soft?
You hated her. So why would you feel bad? Especially after she practically mocked you because, apparently, she knows it all.
You shake the freckled girl out of your mind and focus on the lecture as class began. Weirdly enough, Ellie wasn’t present. She never missed a day of school. Was she skipping? Probably out smoking with her friends, or even snorting god knows what up her nose. You couldn’t care less, especially when you now had the advantage of attending the lecture. You were learning a new unit and were now ahead of Ellie. It was perfect. Too perfect. —
Class had ended and you were packing yourself up before your professor approached your desk. Papers in his hand, she placed them down infront of you. You looked down to find the notes from today printed onto them, they were neatly organized and well prepared. Your professor had reallyyy had made sure to make it look good.
This was an example of how being favoured benefited the stuck-up, freckled girl you called Ellie.
“Hey, y/n, would you mind handing today’s notes to Ellie?” The tall, blond, middle aged man gave you a smile. “I know you two share dorms in the same building.”
Why was that your problem? It was her job to make sure she attended class, why the hell were you chosen to do such a task? But, you couldn’t say no to your professor, not when he clearly favorited Ellie.
“No, I don’t mind. But, uhm.. what room is she in?” Your luck was so sore that you wished you’d skipped class yourself.
“Dorm four-o-eight.” He patted the papers before stuffing his hands in the pocket of her pants and walking back to the front of class.
Sometimes, you swore the universe was working overtime to make you suffer. Punish you for whatever you’d done in your past life. You never understood why you and Ellie always, somehow, ended up in the same classes, same hallways— Hell, the two you saw each other everywhere. Malls? Restaurants? It was like you were being followed.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
With a loud knock, you awkwardly wait infront of Ellie’s dorm room. It felt weird standing there, mostly because of the argument you had with her a few days back. What would you even say to her? Would she even open the door? Maybe she’d shut it in your face to get back at you. All you knew was that you a task; give her the notes from class and leave. It’s not anything would go wrong, right?
The door clicked unlocked and Ellie swung it open. You were greeted with her tired expression. She stood tall, a hand on the door knob with the other scratching the back of her head. She wore a tanktop and this was the first time you’d seen her muscles. Of course, without realizing it, your eyes were practically glued to them. They were toned and stood out like a sore thumb. For a second, you wondered what else she was hiding under that tank of hers. She looked.. pretty attractive and you’d be lying if you said she didn’t. No wonder almost every girl was fanning over the 5’6 nerdy auburn.
Snapping out of your trance you meet her gaze and notice the bruise on her left eye. It was purple with a hint red. And, it definitely looked like it hurt. Did she really get into a fight? You called it. Maybe with one of her friends. Or because of her friends. That’s probably why she wasn’t in class— Either way, all you needed to do was hand her the notes and leave.
Holding out the stack of papers, you met her green eyes before she grabbed it from your hands. Her fingers, seemingly intentionally, brushed against yours for a brief moment. She flashed a smug grin as she read over it and shook her head with amusement. “Notes, huh? You makin’ sure I’m caught up, princess?” How the hell was she so.. playful after that argument, especially after that fat black eye. Did she even care? My god, was she even bothered as much as you were?
“Mr. Nunez told me to give them to you. It was against my will.” You corrected, hands dropping to your side, you turn your head to find an appropriate way to leave. Ellie, somehow, caught onto that, “Hey, you wanna come inside? I uh.. I wanted to.. talk to you. I guess?” The freckled girl, shrugging with a sheepish expression, stepped asife and motioned for you come in. The invitation was friendly, but the sight of her fucked up room made you rethink your decision. Clothes everywhere, clouded air, probably from smoking, and.. were those her fucking boxers hanging from her bed frame?!
“Ignore the mess, I’ve been.. a bit busy.” Yeah, she looked busy with that fucked up eye of hers. You took a second to think. It wouldn’t hurt, right? Plus, you’d get to see her “secret” to being the top student. Was it the way she studied? Did she cheat?
“Fine. But I’m not staying for long.” Oh, you’d be leaving the second Ellie let slip something even close to condescending. You weren’t having it with her anymore, not when she acted like royalty.
Entering her dorm, you plop yourself down onto her bed. Staying away from her clothes, which you were sure smelled, your hands stayed in your lap. You looked around, as Ellie placed the notes down onto a nearby surface, raking over the candid photos on her wall, the trinkets on her desk, and the collection of gum wrappers stamped on her dresser. She had a life, a fun one at that. But, you spotted no sign of school work.
You hadn’t realized she was sat beside you, her hands fidgeting with the strings of her pajamas shorts as she looked down. “On.. friday.” Ellie began, clearing her throat before taking a second to collect her breath; which was shaky. “I genuinely wasn’t trying to make you mad. I’m not as.. stuck-up as you think I am, I really wanted to help. Considering I’ve never even.. uhm had a proper conversation with you? I thought I’d be nice and do something good.” She shrugged out her explanation, and it make sense. You were even considering it. She looked genuine enough, maybe she was telling the truth. But the hate in you only made you see the bad.
What was the “bad” in the current situation? You didn’t really know.
“I know you.. have this grudge against me. You hate me. And, I don’t really know why.” The hint of vulnerability in her tone had your walls came crumbling down. Maybe you were naive for it but you shake your head and furrow your brows. “Hate is a strong word..” And its exactly how you had described your feelings towards Ellie since the day you two had met. “Maybe I’m just.. jealous.” Why were you being honest? You didn’t really know. You seemed to know absolutely nothing when it came to the auburn haired girl. Everytime you opened your mouth your thoughts immediately began slipping from your mouth. “You get good grades without even trying. I mean, all you do is smoke and.. fuck around.”
All you got in response with a scoff and a soft, “is that what you think?” What else were you supposed to think? “Well, I guess I do smoke. But I study. Not as hard as you, of course, but I do my best and.. well, I guess it pays off.” Leaning back on her arms, she gave you a smile. “Your anger’s justified, I don’t blame you, Princess.” And right when you were about to give her a smile back, though it’d be an awkward one, you watch as her hand shifted to resting ontop of yours.
She was making a move on you.
Flinching at the touch, you pull your hand away with an averting gaze. Was this what she wanted this whole time?
“Sorry.” Ellie shifted to pull away from you, giving you space on the bed. Your heart was racing at the small touch, not to mention you were so damn close to her. Your thighs were a shift away from touching and you suddenly felt hot. The room held a loud silence, a piercing one at that. It was awkward, uncomfortable. Both of you waited for eachother to say something, to utter a word and lighten the mood.
“I’ve always found you.. interesting.” Ellie chose to step up, placing her hand on your thigh and swallowing her nervousness down. “You’re smart, y’know? Even though you’re extra sometimes, I’ve always.. wanted your attention on me.”
For a second, you took a second to process her words, process the hand on your thigh. Her? Ellie Williams? Interested in you?
“If I’m being honest, I don’t even care about school, nor do I give a damn about my grades. I just.. ever since I realized you noticed me whenever I get a better grade than you.. I guess that’s been my goal. I don’t care about the stupid assignments, the fuckass tests, all I seem to want is for you to just.. look at me.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck. What was the hell is going on? Is she confessing some sort of.. love for you? Did she like you? Why the hell would she like you?
You couldn’t keep your reaction in check. You held your breath in shock, unable to really.. think of something to say. You felt stuck, unable to move and unable to say anything that would make the situation better. It’s like everything you thought of only seemed to make the situation.. more awkward and complicated.
After a good second of just staring at her, you clear the lump from your dry throat and try not to focus on the hand resting on your thigh. She was getting real bold, and it made you nervous. “I uhm.. that’s.. Ellie, that’s a lot to.. process..”— “So don’t.” So don’t? What in the world was this bitch on? Molly? “I’m being completely honest. Kiss me. If you like it then.. then things won’t be as complicated anymore. You’ll know—“ “Kiss you? Are you.. high or something?” Green eyes widening, you assumed her confidence was bruised by the way she slumped down and flickered her eyes away. You didn’t need her being all upset, she had no reason to be. “I’m not high.. I’m being honest. Can you really not tell?”
No, you couldn’t!
“Ellie.. that’s an insane thing to.”— “Just once won’t kill you. It’s a kiss. One simpe press on the lips.” First of all, where did this even come from? The whole kissing thing? And.. why did she have that fat bruise on her eye? Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose. The hell were you supposed to do? Negotiation always worked? There was no way you could kiss her, you hated her. All your life you’ve only wanted one thing; to was crush her. But, knowing all she’d ever wanted was.. well, your attention.. it had you sort of baffled. How could that be possible, seriously?
“What happened to your eye?” You avoided the subject of kissing, knowing you’d probably give up and let her do whatever she wanted to. Now, you were expecting a simple answer. Straightforward and easy to understand. You were tired of thinking.
“I beat up a kid for.. uhm, well.. talking about you?” She shrugged out, averting your gaze with a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “It’s stupid, I know. But, it didn’t happen in school so I’m not like.. suspended or.. something.” She took a second to clear her throat, “and, I didn’t wanna come to class with this fat thing around my eye.”
It was beyond stupid. Completely insane! Maybe all that smoking really had fucked up that brain of hers. It was the fact that she’d done it for you that had you taken aback. She had no reason to defend you after you’d practically told her to fuck off. Not to mention the fact that she knew you hated her. It didn’t make sense. But, maybe that black eye was enough proof that she actually might care. Actually might like you. But, could you really be sure? What if she was lying and all of this was just some sick prank?
You tilt your head to get a better look at her eye as it seemed like it was beginning to swell. “Right.. and uh, what was that kid saying?” Your question wasn’t a hard one, not for anyone but Ellie. Ellie who seemed to be struggling to find her words. Her fidgeting fingers gave it all away, not to mention her averting gaze.
It was.. sort of cute.
“Just how you were—.. I don’t wanna think about it.” She was, clearly, still bothered by the incident. She cared more about what some kid said about you than what you’d said about her. But, why? You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around it.
“Are you mad?” The green eyed girl gave you a glance before going back to fiddling with her fingers. Her hair covering most of her face as she had it down. “No, I don’t think so?” As truthful as your words were, they had you, yourself, confused. Why weren’t you mad? Usually, you’d blow up on her if she even tried talking to you. Maybe her confession had made you all mushy.
“I don’t get it, Ellie. You beat up a kid for me?” She raised her head and turned to yoy, her expression was clear then. Slightly furrowed brows with parted lips, she was still upset over the whole situation. She really must be with that bruised eye. You decided to drop the questions for now and shifted on her bed. “Can I get my kiss now?” By the time you’d leaned back against your two arms, Ellie had turned to face you. She had this look of determination and it, honest to god, had you considered her question.
“You’re not getting a kiss..”— “Alright, give me a good reason why.” Stubborn as hell. She’d never quit, you knew that. If she’d gone years just getting your attention what else could she have up her sleeve. It was just a kiss.. right? “For one, I’ve known you since the first grade. It’d be weird. Second of all, you’re Ellie. It just doesn’t make sense.” Kissing her would only cause complications, you didn’t need that. And, it’s not like you wanted a girlfriend, you had studying to do. “Those are all the reasons why you should kiss me. I don’t want some.. french kiss, just give me a press on the lips.” A small press on the lips was too much to ask for.
“What do I get in return?” Was your final question, knowing the right answer would probably lead to you making an irrational decision and kissing the girl you hated most. “Your feelings figured out. You want that, right? I’ll show you how you feel about me, please.” This bitch really was crazy. Pleading for a small kiss? She could have anyone else on the campas kiss her at an instant, so why was she asking you?
But, then again, you didn’t want to feel confused anymore. One small press on her lips as you could finally tell her you didn’t feel anything for her, then she could leave you alone. Without the need for your attention, Ellie would be sure to slack off and let her grades drop.
With a deep inhale, you lean closer. Your heart, somehow, was racing in your chest, almost going to jump out. You didn’t understand why but, your palms were suddenly sweaty and it was growing hotter in the room. The sight of Ellie staring at your lips had your mind going fuzzy, your throat goong dry. Her warm, calloused hand came to rest on your cheek as she finally pressed her lips against yours. Your mind probably went numb for a second because it took you a good while to process it all. She didn’t pull away after a peck on the lips and continued tapping kisses on your lips. It had your hands shaking, face warm, and eyes fluttering shut. She was a good kisser, the way her lips tasted, the way her thumb ran over your cheek, even the way her breath tickled your heated skin. She was damn charming and you couldn’t help but kiss back.
Before you knew it, the auburn haired girl’s hand had came to rest under your shirt and on your waist. She felt around your skin as her tongue entered your mouth and began exploring. Your stomach was fluttering like crazy, you could feel it flip everytime Ellie let slip a noise you’d never even thought you’d be able to hear. Not to mention the sound of the kiss, it was embarrassingly clumsy. Maybe because both of you were a nervous wreck. All you could think about was being in the moment, not what would happen after the kiss, not what you could do to get score higher than Ellie. Everything else seemed to disappear around you, leaving only you and the girl you were kissing relevant.
With a slight smile, she pulled away and made her way to your jaw. Placing open mouthed kisses there and, occasionally, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bit back a moan but it only backfired when she fully wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you against her chest. “I wanna hear it, Princess..” Oh, hear she did. Your lips couldn’t contain the lewd moans and whines that dared, and succeeded, to escape. They were, undoubtedly, music to Ellie’s ears. She was enjoying all of it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this..” She whispered inbetween marking you up, her hands roaming over the bare skin of your back with a hint of desperation. As if she wanted to feel all of you, have you skin-to-skin with her. “Ellie..” Was all you could really moan out, which had her flecked cheeks red. Completely and utterly red.
And, in that moment, you’d realized just how wrong you’d gotten Ellie. She was never competing against you, all she wanted was you. Sure, you still hated how effortlessly smart she was, but, to be frank, you were willing to let your walls crumble down. Her silent confidence made you completely and utterly weak, your hate was as paper thin when it came to her. She was able to crumple it up before easily tearing it down. With a few words Ellie was able to get you to melt into her. Into the kiss.
Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate her as much anymore.
#lesbian#ellie tlou#ellie williams#fanfic#lgbtq#the last of us#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#tlou ellie#tlou2#tlou#tlou fanfiction#ellie fluff#fluff#alternate universe#modern au
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Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-
Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭
but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-
Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-
Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!
I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨
Substitute Gear
『 ♡』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?
꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.
“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.
“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”
As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.
“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.
“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”
You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.
“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.
Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.
───
After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.
“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.
“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.
The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.
“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”
Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?
The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.
“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."
He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?
"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.
"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"
"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."
"No, dumbass! C'mere!"
You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.
"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."
That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.
You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."
Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."
He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.
───
The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.
"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"
You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."
The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.
Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"
Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.
The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"
When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.
"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."
thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨
#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#bakugo x fem!reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#my hero academia#☆.from the stars#☆.rei writes
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