Attention, my good writers! You are humbly invited to a very special writing collaboration taking part April 2026 for the writer Jazz successfully reaching 6k followers! Please find more details about this prestigious and magical event below! Donât be late! â Love, Jazz
Credits: Dividers made by @angeliicide and @cursed-carmine!
Theme: Fairytale/Storybook Retellings AU (Beauty & The Beast, Goldilocks & The Three Bears, Sleeping Beauty, etc.)
How To Join: Just shoot me a DM/comment with your idea and Iâll add it below! Thereâs no due date lol just let me know when you finish and post it with "No Fairytale Collab" in the tags/link this post in your fic!
Rules: 18+ (MDNI). JJK Characters ONLY (*A character that is a minor in the show/manga MUST BE AGED UP!*)
âYou may do multi characters x reader fics too!
âNSFW and SFW fics allowed.
âDark themes are allowed but please run them by me first!
âRepeat characters & fairytales are allowed. Multi fics are allowed (you can submit more than one).
Hard Limits: NO SCAT, AGE PLAY, RELIGION PLAY, RACE PLAY OR SNUFF!
AU Type: Role Swap; Gender Swap; Princess x Knight; Hybrid x Human; Crackships lol, etc.
Word Count: 1kâBeyond
Took a Wrong Turn đșđ§ș (by jazzthatonewriterchick) - Big Bad Wolf!Toji x Red Riding Hood!Reader
It's a bird! It's a plane! No...it's just ANOTHER COLLAB EVENT AND SEXY SUPERHEROES! Or maybe a SEXY SUPERVILLAINS?!
Coming to you and cumming for you! Made in a tube, straight from outer space, or maybe just born with it?! Super strength, super speed, super flight AND a super sex in the bedroom! Find more info below and get a romance (or a f*ck) worthy of a comic book! -love, Jazz
Credits: Gojo art made by armansmind! Dividers made by @pixopix and @cafekitsune!
Premise: Superhero & villains!! (Superman!Gojo, Redhood!Geto, Venom!Toji, Wolverine!Nanami, etc. ) Any JJK character you choose can be a superhero, villain OR maybe a civilian falling for Superhero/Supervillian!Reader. Get creative!!
How To Join: Just comment below or shoot me a DM! You can tell me your idea later and I'll add it below! There is no due date. Just let me know when you post your story & tag the collab in your post! (Need A Hero or Villain Collab)
Rules: JJK Characters ONLY.
-NSFW and SFW allowed. Multi fics allowed (you can write more than one fic).
-Reader x multi character fics allowed.
-Dark themes are allowed BUT please run them by me first! (9/10 I'll be down for it lol).
-Repeat characters allowed too!
Hard Limits: NO SCAT PLAY, RACE PLAY, AGE PLAY, CONVERSION PLAY OR SNUFF!
đInsane for your loveđ (by @laylathegoddesss) - Joker!Choso x Bimbo Therapist!Reader
Captain Save A Ho! â€ïžđ (by @yorikae) - Superman!Gojo x Assistant!Reader
Caught between the capes?! (by @laylathegoddesss - Superman!Gojo x Catwomen!Reader x Batman!Toji
Codeword: F.U.C.K.M.E. (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Nightwing!Gojo x Spy!Reader x Redhood!Geto
TBA (by @yorikae) - Deadpool!Gojo x Wolverine!Reader
TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Superman!Gojo x Reporter!Reader
Spider-Man Is My Hot Roommate?! (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Spideygojo/Roommate!Gojo x Black Cat!Reader
TBA (@its-luna-noel) - Captain America!Gojo x Winter Soldier!Reader
Cat Got Ya Tongue, Handsome? (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Batman!Higuruma x Catwoman!Reader
TBA (by @lostsoulolol) - Nightwing!Toji x Reader
TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - College Nerd!Choso x Starfire!Reader
TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Deadpool!Gojo x Nerd!Reader x Wolverine!Nanami
TBA (by @angeliqueprincesa) - College Student/Spiderman!Yuuji x Reader
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderwoman (by @h3avenlyglory) - Spiderman! Gojo x Spiderwoman! Reader
âș Pairings: Bf!Gojo x alt!reader x Piercer!Choso
âș Rating: Explicit (MDNI) 18+
âș Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo loves all your tattoos and piercings. He always has. However, there is one piercing you donât have yet that he thinks would look stupid good on you: nipple piercings. When he offers to pay for them, well, who are you to say no to a free piercing? How was he to know that it meant having another guy ogling your pretty tits? He canât stand the way piercer!choso stares at his girl, but you? Oh, you eat his jealousy up.
âș Content Warnings: f!reader, no curses au, reader is mentioned to have tattoos and piercings, pwp, explicit sexual content, porn with a little plot, piv, titty sucking, exhibitionism, Choso begging, Gojo (kinda) soft domming reader and Choso, oral (m) receiving, cum swallowing, cream pies, jealousy, possessive Gojo, reader is lowkey a lil toxic
âș WC: 11.9k
art credits to @/jabesa0 and @/3-aem
âYou should get your tits pierced,â Satoru huffs out, looking up at you where youâre currently straddling him, gliding up and down on his thick cock. His eyes are fixed on your pretty chest bouncing for him each time you lift your hips, then sink back down on him, moaning as he stretches you out all over again. âTheyâd look so cute with a couple of little rings through them,â he grunts out as you grind yourself down on him, the tip of his cock bumping up against your cervix in that way that makes you dumb.
âY-yeah?â You asked, lifting your hips to pull almost all the way off him only to sink quick. His thick shaft glides deep into you easily from how soaked you are. Heâs been teasing your clit for the better part of an hour, playing a game of getting right to the edge of all you can take and pulling back before you actually fall into that dark abyss of pleasure. âThink so, baby?â You ask, your hips moving like sin.
He nods eagerly, white locks shifting with each jerky movement. âHah, so cute, so fun to suck on,â he gasps as you swirl your hips in a mean circle. Suddenly, he sits up, hands going to your back to support you as he tilts you back just enough to capture one of your pert little nipples in his mouth. Alternating between sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it, he draws a little whine from your lips. His teeth graze over the sensitive peak, earning a whine, your back arching for him. When he releases it, he presses a quick little kiss to the other neglected bud and repeats the process. Now that both nipples are sufficiently attended to, he lies back down, his big hands sliding over to your hips and sinking into the soft flesh. âTheyâre pretty fun to suck on as is,â he adds, a cheeky smile on his lips, blue eyes both dark with lust and twinkling with mischief, âDo it all day if you let me.â
What an idiot. Your idiot, but still an idiot. âYeah, Iâll bet you would,â you say derisively, rolling your eyes at him, but the next thing you know, heâs lifting his hips and driving so hard up into you that a moan is ripped from your mouth, eyes rolling back. The hands on your curves guide you up and down, holding you still as needed. Somehow, even though youâre on top, heâs still the one in control. Thatâs alright though; you wouldnât have it any other way.Â
âDonât be a brat, baby,â Satoru coos, repeating the motion, shoving his cock so deep in you that you truly understand the meaning of having your guts rearranged. At your next cryâhalf moan, half screamâhe chuckles darkly. âLook at that, whereâs that smart mouth now?â Another drive of his hips upward, stuffing you full with his cock, so full you can feel every ridge, every jagged angry vein wrapping around the silken shaft.Â
âFu-fuck you,â you let out, just to be exactly what he just told you not to.Â
âHah, pretty girl, youâre just begging to have your pretty pussy ruined,â he purrs, his breath stuttering when your walls flutter around him. One of his hands releases your hips to slide between your legs and start rubbing filthy, firm circles over your swollen, achy clit. âYou wanna come? Ask me nicely. Use your words, baby.â
âS-so mean,â you manage to get out.
âMean? Iâll show you mean,â Satoru intones, then his fingers pinch your clit, and the orgasm that rips through you has you spasming around his cock, soaking it in your slick. Pleasure floods your body like a tsunami wave, originating from your center. Your thighs are shaking, toes curling, and your hips are bucking like crazy. Satoruâs eyes flick between your expression of bliss and the way your tits bounce while you ride him like your life depends on it. âLook at that, youâre being such a good girl now. No more of that attitude,â he purrs out breathlessly.Â
âAh, Toru, feels so good,â the words are a desperate whimper, your whole body awash in bliss. Your walls clench around him, spasming even tighter around his fat cock than you usually squeeze him for a moment.Â
Seconds later, Satoru follows you over the edge, spilling deep inside you. The sensation of his cock twitching and his warm, sticky cum settling in your guts makes you whine. Slowly, you collapse against him, falling into his chest, his arms wrapping around you to stroke the smooth, soft skin of your back. Both of you lay there, Satoruâs cock softening inside you, as you each catch your breath.Â
This is the second best part, you know, besides the soul-splintering orgasms. These moments afterward where he holds you in his big, strong arms and you listen to his heartbeat.Â
After a while, Satoru hums into your hair and says, âSo what do you say?â
âTo what?â You ask, brow arching.Â
He rolls his eyes and taps you on the nose, making you shoot him a glare, before saying, âTo getting your nipples pierced, pretty girl.â He pauses and grins at you. âI was serious about that. Iâll pay for them and everything.â
Satoru has always liked your style. Heâs always loved the colorful artwork adorning your body, as well as all your piercings and the rotating shades of your hair. You know because heâs made no secret of it at all. His first words to you ever were, âHey, I think your industrial piercing is super cool. Nameâs Satoru.â Delivered with that cheeky smile youâve grown to love. The first time the two of you fucked, in his room at his frat house, he made a point of kissing an outline around each of your tattoos. When he reached the one between your tits, he rubbed the tip of his nose over your skin and whispered, âThis oneâs my favorite.â Of course it was, still is.Â
So, his suggestion isnât entirely out of left field, but you canât say youâre not surprised heâs requesting things. Nipple piercings. Theyâre something youâve considered getting before, but have never actually bitten the bullet. Last year, you got your Medusa done, and Satoru was all about it, though. He went on and on about how cute it looked on you. Maybe getting your tits done wouldnât be so bad. They do take a while to heal, though; some of your friends have them and have told you about what itâs like. The time isnât a problem for you, but Satoru? Asking him to go without sucking on your tit would be like asking a bear not to fish salmon from the river. Â
âAre you sure you want that?â You ask, to make sure he understands. âTheyâll take time to heal, which means your titty privileges will be suspended for at least six months.â
His mouth immediately tugs into a frown. Well, that definitely got his attention. Pretty blue eyes flicking briefly to where your tits are pressed into his skin, he looks back up at you and whines pathetically, âSeriously? Six months? Thatâs absurd.â Somehow, he looks exactly like a cat whoâs been informed their owner has no food to give them. His lower lip juts out, and he mutters petulantly, like this wasnât his idea to begin with, âFine. I can deal for six months.â
âCan you though?â
He scoffs and pulls you completely on top of him. The broad expanse of his palm sweeps down your back to your ass, where he grips a firm handful of the soft flesh. âTch. Iâll just have to find something else to suck on instead,â he mumbles against your neck, without stopping his groping.Â
âIf you say something weird, Iâm gonna strangle you,â you reply seriously, afraid heâll say something horrible, such as like your toes or like your fingers. The thought sends a shudder down your spine. You wouldnât put it past him to say something like that just to get a reaction out of you.Â
âKinky,â he shoots back.
âYouâre such an idiot.â
âĄ
The next day you find yourself at your usual tattoo and piercing parlor, Ink Black Hearts. Itâs a few blocks from the apartment you share with Satoru, and youâve been going there for years. The only different thing is that Satoru is accompanying you, which has never happened before. When you walk in, the receptionist, a freshman college student named Maki, with green hair, golden eyes, and a full sleeve down one arm, greets you.Â
âHey, I wanted to do a walk-in consultation with Yuki for a set of nipple piercings,â you say as you walk up to the counter and smile at her. âAny chance she has an opening?â
âYukiâs out of town on vacation,â Maki replies, âBut Chosoâs here. Heâs between appointments, so he should be able to do the consult. If everything works out, there should be just enough time for him to do the piercing too.â
Youâve never worked with Choso before. Yuki is the only piercer youâve used here, but itâs just a consultation for now, so you shrug agreeably and say, âThatâs fine.âÂ
âAlright. Iâll let him know. Wait here,â Maki says before disappearing behind the curtain that separates the main parlor from the waiting room.Â
As soon as sheâs gone, though, Satoru practically drapes himself over you and hisses, âHim? Itâs a guy?â His arms wrap around you possessively, tugging your body up against his.Â
Rolling your eyes, you reply, âPiercing and tattooing are male-dominated fields, baby. My regular piercer is out right now; you just heard it yourself. Heâs who they have.â You canât help the smug undertone in your voice. So what if you like it a little when heâs jealous? So what if maybe, from time to time, you do things on purpose to make him jealous. Like right now you could easily say âWeâll just come back when Yuki is availableâ, but you wonât. Instead you add, âChoose wisely because if we donât do the consult today, then Iâm not getting them done.â Okay, maybe youâre a little toxic, just a tiny bit.
Now, Satoru is really pouting. âYouâre doing this on purpose,â he accuses, but he canât prove it, and youâre sure as hell not going to admit it.Â
âNo, but Yuki might be booked out pretty far once she gets back from her vacation, so it might be a long-ass wait,â you counter. Itâs a valid concern, and most likely true, but he doesnât need to know that itâs not your only reason for wanting to get it out of the way.Â
Just then, Maki parts the curtain and steps into the waiting room. âChoso is good to take a look. You can head back now.â
You arch your brow up at Satoru in silent question. Well, are we going in or waiting? Satoru glances between the curtain and you before shaking his head and mumbling, âFine, letâs just get it over with.â He sounds decidedly less happy with his plan than he did ten minutes earlier.Â
âHeâs a professional, Satoru. I donât think you need to worry,â you say as you start to the back room, but secretly you hope he stares at your tits in a way that makes Satoru that much more jealous and pissed off. âHeâll be too focused on doing his job to be turned on by my tits.â
âNo, he wonât,â Satoru argues petulantly.
You roll your eyes and shake your head, but Satoru isnât bothered in the slightest. He reaches up and parts the curtain for you with his other arm wrapped around you, holding you tight to him. The parlor smells of ink, blood, and sanitizerâa familiar scent. Four tattoo chairs are occupying the small space and one flat adjustable treatment bed. Choso is sitting at the very back, a small desk space for the artists to sketch out their designs or print them in the transferable ink.Â
When you and Satoru start walking back, the thud of your overgrown boyfriendâs footsteps makes him look up at you. Dark brown eyes meet yours, and the smudged reddish-purple eyeshadow around them does nothing to hide how tired he looks. He has the look of someone whoâs chronically exhausted, but heâs way too young to look like that. He canât be any older than you or Satoru. An oversized t-shirt hangs loose over his broad shoulders, hiding much of his build, but if his arms are anything to go by, then youâd guess lean, muscular. Two puffs of shaggy brown hair are tied up on his head, giving him an almost innocent appearance. Thereâs a line tattooed across the bridge of his nose, and he might have a full sleeve as well. His piercings are eye-catchingâsnake-bites, septum, small gauges, several other ear piercings.Â
You donât miss the way his eyes drag over your body, hovering on your waist, exposed by the crop top and shorts combo youâre wearing, then up to the very tits heâs meant to pierce. Of course, Satoru immediately notices that as well, and the possessive hold he has around you tightens, one long arm wrapping around your middle to splay across your skin in a blatant show of claim.Â
âHey, Iâm here for a nipple piercing consultation,â you explain before Satoru can open his mouth and say something ridiculous.Â
âRight,â Choso replies, jerking his head in the direction of the tattoo chair, âTake a seat, and, uh, take your shirt bra off. Need to see your anatomy to make sure itâll work.â
You give him a pretty smile that has Satoruâs fingers digging into your skin. âOh, I didnât wear a bra,â you say breezily, like youâve said youâre gonna grab coffee after. Satoru stiffens behind you, clearly not expecting that either. Oops. You barely manage to shrug your clingy boyfriend off as you walk over to the nearest chair, but eventually he lets you go, however reluctantly. So, he just hovers right behind you. Dropping into the chair, you watch as Choso slowly makes his way over.Â
âLift upââ Choso starts, but cuts himself off when he sees youâre already doing it.
Your bare tits bounce free, pert little nipples stiff. Chosoâs eyes immediately follow them, and he crouches down to get a better look.
âSeriously?â Satoru grouses, leaning over the chair. âWhy donât you take a picture? Itâll last longer.â
Choso doesnât react. In fact, he doesnât do or say anything, just stares at the plush flesh of your tits, taking in the soft-looking globes. He barely notices Satoru at all. And youâd swear that you see him drag the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. Oh, maybe Satoru was a little right, and the piercer does like your pretty tits. He leans forward a little; whether intentionally or unintentionally is anybodyâs guess.Â
âI need to feel them to make sure theyâll hold the bar,â he blurts out, voice rough, the tips of his ears and his cheeks turning pink. Cute. Something tells you that heâs a liar, though. He could probably tell from the moment you lifted your shirt if you were a good candidate for the piercings, but thereâs something in his eyes that makes you almost certain he just wants an excuse to touch them.
âNo way,â Satoru snaps before you can even open your mouth. If he were a cat, heâd be bristling right now.
âHeâs just feeling them to make sure he wouldnât damage them by piercing them,â you coax, gently running your hand up and down his arm. Heâs such a jealous baby. âHeâs gonna have his hands on them for less than thirty seconds. Heâs already seen them. Just let him do his job.â Youâre being soft for him, but at the same time, your thighs press together because, fuck, youâre so turned on by this. It only makes you want to push, to make him even more jealous, to see just how far you could go before he snaps.
âBut babyyy âŠâ he whines pathetically, âTheyâre for me.â This fucking guy. âSupposed to be all mine.â Satoru shoots Choso an irritated look like you getting the nipple piercings wasnât his own idea.Â
Craning your neck to look back at him, you say, âAnd him touching them for twenty seconds isnât going to change that.â God, youâre so fucking wet right now, a damp spot forming rapidly in the center of your panties. Itâs not your fault that heâs so fucking hot when heâs jealous.Â
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, the irritation rolling off him in waves. âFine,â he mutters, âBut Iâm touching them too.â And before you can stop him, he reaches down to cup the flesh of your tits, holding them in his big palms. âAlright, if you have to touch them, then do it now, I guess,â Satoru says, clearly unhappy despite the compromise he came up with. His thumbs stroke slow circles over the soft mounds.Â
âTalk about possessive,â Choso says under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. Then he leans forward and pinches one of your nipples between his steady fingers and rolls it delicately. The touch sends a shudder down your spine, which has Satoruâs grip on your tits tightening.Â
Leaning forward, he presses his mouth to your ear and breathes, âLittle brat, like I didnât fucking feel that. Youâre loving this. You like seeing me all pissed off and jealous, huh?â Then, he scoffs, not even giving you a chance to reply before heâs sucking a wet hickey into your neck as punishment.
Chosoâs fingers pause on your nipple, still holding the little bud between his fingers, and he stares up at Satoru with a horrified, disgusted kind of fascination. For just a second, he pinches your nipple a little harder, which makes you whimper.
âAlright, you can take your fucking hands off her,â Satoru immediately snaps after the sound slips from your lips. Fuck, the angrier he gets, the more soaked your panties grow.Â
Chosoâs hand snaps back like itâs been burned, instantly obeying Satoru on sheer instinct. He blinks up at you two, the flush on his cheeks deepening, and says low and rough, âYeah, piercing will be fine. Iâll get the shit.â Then, he practically flees.Â
Your eyes track Choso as he heads into the back room. As soon as heâs gone, you look back up at Satoru and, like the brat you are, say, âHeâs kinda cute.â Itâs the truth, but youâre only saying it to piss him off even more.Â
Satoru stiffens again, but then his thumbs swipe over the stiff peaks of your nipples, and he leans in close to whisper against your ear, âWatch your mouth, sweetheart, or Iâll have to put you in your place when we get home.â The words are punctuated with a little bite to your earlobe, just hard enough to make you wince at the sting. âSeems like you might need a reminder of who this pretty body belongs to, hmm?â His eyes flick to the door Choso disappeared through before he pinches your little nipples hard enough that you have to bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound.Â
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The more he talks, the more you want him to bend you over the nearest flat surface or shove you up against the closest wall and fuck you so hard your bones rattle. âSee, thatâs funny, because last I checked it belongs to me,â you reply with a little bit of an attitude, but your mouth is dry, and your thighs keep pressing together in desperate search of friction.Â
Before Satoru has a chance to say anything else, Choso is coming back into the room with supplies in handâgauze pads, alcohol wipes, packaged sterile needles, and a couple of pieces of plain stainless steel jewelry. He sets all of it down on a tray next to the treatment table and looks over at you, âLie on the table.â
Satoru scoffs and mutters something under his breath that you donât quite catch. But you just smirk and roll your eyes as you push yourself up from the chair and head over to the table. Sliding onto the flat surface, you lie on your back and lift yourself shirt again. Crouching down beside you, Satoru slips his hand into yours, watching like a hawk as Choso rips open the alcohol wipe packages and gently cleans each of your nipples. The cloth is damp, cool, and rough against the sensitive skin. When heâs done sanitizing them, he takes another good look at them before marking the points where heâs going to pierce with a soft-tipped pen.Â
When he leans over you, heâs so close that you can feel his breath hitting your skin. It makes your cheeks flush and has you biting back another sound. Your thighs press together again, your panties soaked through at this point. Between Satoruâs jealousy and the way this cute piercer is eyeing up your tits like he wants to suck them until youâre whimpering his name, youâre a fucking mess.
âDo you really have to be so fucking close?â Satoru practically growls, his pretty blue eyes narrowing on Choso. His expression says heâs fighting all of his demons at once right now, and youâre pretty sure he wants to beat the poor guy into a pulp just from having touched or seen your tits.
Without looking up, the man carefully inspecting your breasts replies, too neutral, âDo you want them to be crooked?âÂ
You have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing. A scoff is Satoruâs only reply, but his hand tightens around yours, and he doesnât argue. Choso straightens up and grabs something from the tray off to the side. The kkrrrssshhh of the needle package being ripped open is loud in the room somehow, despite the generic rock music playing in the background.Â
âDidnât think so.â Picking up one long, thick needle, Choso leans over you again. Slowly, he reaches out and grasps your left nipple firmly. The pad of his thumb rolls it gently into place, eyes fixed on your soft skin. Once he has it lined up the way he wants, he positions the needle, the pointed tip digging into your skin. âHold your breath for me, sweetheart.â
âDonât call her sweetheart. Sheâs not your sweetheart,â Satoru snaps, prompting the poor guy subjected to his jealous pouting to roll his eyes. You just do as asked, staying perfectly still.Â
Chosoâs eyes never leave your pretty little nipple. No, he ignores Satoru entirely, which only serves to piss your boyfriend off more. âOn the count of three,â he says, eyes flicking up to yours briefly before darting down to where heâs holding the needle against your skin. âOne, twoââ With no warning, he pierces through your flesh. âThatâs it. Good job,â he murmurs, voice low and soothing.
You hiss between your teeth, your hand squeezing hard around Satoruâs, as the sting and the burn hit you. âWhat the fuck happened to three?â You bite out.Â
Choso shrugs and says easily, âYou would have tensed up the second I got to three.â He slides the jewelry piece onto the needle and pulls it snugly into the fresh hole. Finally, he screws the ball onto the end. Repeating the process with your right nipple, he has both of them done in less than fifteen minutes. Now, you just have to deal with swollen, screaming nipples for the next month. He tilts his head, eyes darting between each piercing like heâs mentally comparing them, âNice. They look, ah, great on you.â
âTch. She doesnât need you to tell her that,â Satoru pouts, then turning to you he says in a sickeningly sweet tone, âBaby, your tits look so pretty. Makes me wanna put them in my mouth.â
âYeah, no. Donât do that,â Choso says firmly, shooting Satoru a pointed look, âNo sucking, no pinching, no pulling. Clean with saline in the mornings and before you go to bed. Try and wear clothing that fits well, not too loose, not too tight. Be especially careful drying off from the shower. You donât want them to snag.â
You nod diligently at each of his instructions, but itâs hard to listen with how your nipples are throbbing in pain. For his part, Satoru looks more and more crestfallen as heâs banned from three of his favorite activities for the foreseeable future. âYeah, yeah, yeah, no fun allowed for the next six months,â he mumbles, tugging your shirt down at the same time to put your tits away. You could almost swear that Choso almost looks a little disappointed for a second once youâre all covered up again.Â
Giving him a big, sweet smile, you say, âThank you so much! You did such a good job. I really, really like them.â Naturally, Satoru is scowling the second the kind words leave your mouth.Â
Chosoâs cheeks turn red all over again at your praise. A broad hand comes up, and he scratches the back of his head before saying quietly, âNo problem. Just glad I could help. Theyâre really prâwell, you were a good candidate for them, anyway.â Then he rubs the tip of his nose like heâs not quite sure what to do with his hands. âCome back in three months for a healing check, unless something looks wrong. You can come back sooner if you need to.â He really is a cutie. If you werenât in a committed relationship with your possessive, if not a little crazy, boyfriend, you might have fucked him. Scratch that, you definitely would have fucked him.
Sliding off the treatment table, you wriggle your fingers at Choso and say in a sing-song, âByyyeeee. See you in three months. Thanks again.â It sounds flirty even to your own ears, which makes his blush deepen and makes Satoruâs scowl even fiercer.Â
As youâre walking away, you hear your boyfriend say very passive-aggressively, âHere.â You look over your shoulder just in time to see him shove a wad of cash towards Choso before following after you. On your way out of the tattoo parlor, you wave goodbye to Maki, and Satoru catches up with you to throw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close against him. Once youâre out of the tattoo parlor, Satoru leans in close and murmurs against your ear, âYouâre so gonna pay for that little show you put on in there.â
You just grab him and pull him in for a kiss. With a teasing smile, you say coyly, âPromise?â
The way he smacks your assâthe crack, the sharp stingâtells you just how serious he is and whatâs waiting in store for you once the two of you get home. And that makes your sopping cunt clench around nothing.Â
âĄ
The nipple piercings are difficult to get used to. In the initial weeks, you have to be extremely careful not to get them snagged on anything, because you learned your lesson the first and only time itâs happened. Luckily, nothing was damaged; it just hurt like a motherfucker. Satoru held an ice pack to your tit for an hour, stroking your back, murmuring sweet nothings to you the whole time.Â
The longer you have them, though, the more you become accustomed to the feel of them in your body. Youâre religious about cleaning them, which has made the healing process relatively uncomplicated so far. And you have to admit, they do look quite cute through your little nipples. Once theyâre healed enough, youâll be able to swap jewelry, and youâre looking forward to that; a ring with a gem would be really pretty.Â
Three months go by in the blink of an eye. You almost forget about the appointment until Satoru reminds you that youâre supposed to get them looked at again to make sure theyâre healing alright. And, of course, thereâs no way heâs letting you go alone after the last time. Not while a certain piercer was looking at his babyâs tits with a weight that was heavy and hungry.
When you arrive at the tattoo parlor, you spot Yuki first, sporting a faint tan, the lingering vestiges of her vacation still visible on her body. Sheâs talking to a client, though, so you donât want to interrupt. Turning to Maki, you say, âIâm here to have my nipples checked out. Choso pierced them a few months back.â
âOh, he just got here for the day. Good timing,â Maki replies, barely looking up from the schoolwork sheâs puzzling through at the counter. âHe should be back there. You can just go ahead.â A pen spins deftly through her nimble fingers, then back again.Â
âWait, wait, wait,â Satoru says, his hand curling into your arm just a smidge too tight for half a second. Then, he jerks his chin toward Yuki and asks, âCanât we wait for her?â
âSheâs about to do a tattoo for a new client,â Maki says flatly, clearly over Satoru already. Her golden, grown eyes narrow on him and she adds, âIf you want to wait two or three hours, then be my guest. But Choso is here and available.â
You can feel Satoruâs eye roll. âFine,â he mutters petulantly. âWhatever. Letâs just get this over with.â Like a cat upset about its owner acquiring a new kitten, he is not afraid to make his displeasure known.
Maki and you exchange looks, and you just shrug off his arm and pinch Satoruâs side. âDonât be an ass,â you mutter, then you push through the curtain. Satoru yelps and then jogs after you, but doesnât push his luck by acting like a human poncho again.Â
Itâs a little busier in here than youâre used to. The owner of the shop, Sukuna, is tattooing someone in one of the chairs near the entrance. Yuki is talking to her client, who has someone with him. When she spots you, she gives you a big smile and waves at you, both of which you return, even blowing her a kiss. Choso is at the very back, setting things up for his next appointment, it seems.
You watch the smooth, steady, almost graceful movements as he carries the necessary supplies next to an empty chair. When he looks up, he spots you, dark eyes widening, then darting down to your tits only to snap back up to your face. Tilting your head to the side, you smile at him so sweet that it makes his cheeks burn.Â
His hair is down today, long, shaggy, and so soft-looking. No oversized t-shirt today, but rather a tank top that shows off his muscular arms, as well as the sleeve and a half of art he has going down them.Â
âHi Choso,â you say cheerily, âI was here a few months ago to getââ
âI remember,â he cuts you off, eyes drifting over to Satoru whoâs looming behind you like some sort of guard dog. Itâs not long before his gaze finds you again though and he says with the barest smile, âBack for your healing check?â
You nod, âYep! Think you can squeeze me in?â Satoru rushes up to throw his arm around you again in a move that reeks of laying a claim. This time you donât shrug him off, though. Heâll just keep pouting and bothering you if you donât throw him some sort of bone.
Chosoâs smile widens, and he replies softly, âI think I can make that work. Take a seat.â
âHello, Iâm right here,â Satoru complains, loudly enough that you roll your eyes at his dramatics. âFucking flirting right in front of me,â he hisses under his breath, but you can tell Choso hears by the way he briefly goes stiff.
Sucking your teeth, you drop down into the chair and say, âIâm not flirting.â You 100% are flirting, shamelessly so, and just like usual, the more irritated and jealous Satoru gets, the wetter you get. The lesson he taught you last time clearly didnât stick, or maybe it did stick, and now youâre ready to get punished all over again.
âLiar,â Satoru shoots back. He leans against the back of the chair, hands going to your shoulders to massage the crook there and up the back of your neck. âYouâre being such a brat again,â he says, his tone all warning.Â
âAm I?â You ask playfully as Choso rounds the side to stand in front of you. Of course, youâre sans bra again, for convenience. Lifting your shirt, you reveal your bare tits to him again. He might not even notice heâs doing it, but his tongue swipes along his lower lip, his dark eyes trained on your plush curves with an intense kind of focus. There it is. Thatâs the expression you hoped to see.Â
He crouches down to get a better look, leaning forward to get a close look. Without asking, he reaches out and pushes the jewelry a bit, fingers brushing the sensitive skin in a way that makes your thighs press together. Behind you, you can hear Satoruâs teeth grind together. Your breath hitches when he turns the bar just slightly, the sensation strange and foreign.
Dark eyes meet yours. âThat hurt?â He sounds almost guilty.
You shake your head. It really didnât hurt. âNo, just surprised me is all.â
He nods and pulls back a little, although his reticence is obvious in the slow way his hand drops to his side. Glancing from you to Satoru, then back down to you, âThen look good. The healing is coming along nicely. Be easy with them still, and make sure not to snag them on anything.â He starts to walk away but pauses. Then, he lets out a sigh and lopes back, âIf you wouldnât mind, Iâd love to take a picture for the parlorâs portfolio.â He clears his throat and says awkwardly, âThey really do look very nice. The, uh, piercings, I mean.â
You smirk and open your mouth, but your boyfriend beats you to it.Â
âNo. No way,â Satoru says, reaching down to tug your shirt down so quickly itâs like heâs afraid Choso is going to whip out a camera right there and start taking pictures.Â
âOh come on,â you whine, looking up at him. If he can pout, so can you, after all; plus, heâs a lot more susceptible to your pouting than you are to his. Itâs actually pretty easy to get what you want from Satoru. âPleeeaaassseee,â you wheedle, looking up at him through your lashes. âIf you let me, Iâll give you road head on the way home.â
Choso chokes, then has a slight coughing fit, his face turning a deep burgundy, but youâre sure itâs from embarrassment rather than the coughing. It makes you giggle. Eyes narrowing on you, Satoru says, âTch. Roadhead? Try harder, sweets.â
âWell, what do you want then?â You demand, not wanting to sit here and play twenty questions.Â
Satoru smirks and makes a big show of humming thoughtfully and tapping on his chin. âGo off your birth control?â He suggests cheerfully, like heâs asking you to pick a new show to watch instead of knocking you up.Â
For a second, you just stare at him dumbfounded. His jealousy must be driving him crazy if heâs out here suggesting things like that. âYouâre delusional,â you snap, reaching up to smack him on the arm. âIn your fucking dreams.â
âHah. No. In your wet dreams,â Satoru counters without missing a beat. The cheeky grin he gives you makes you want to pummel him. But youâll settle for something else right now.Â
You scoff and look up at Choso. âIâll do the photo. Ignore him.â Then, glancing up at Satoru, you shoot him a dirty look and say. Are you doing this just to push his buttons? Maybe a little. âI offered you roadhead and, now, because of your greed, you get nothing.â
âHey, wait a second, Iâll take the roadhead, Iâll take the roadhead,â he nearly trips over his own tongue trying to get the words out.Â
While you and Satoru bicker back and forth, Choso, who youâre certain has to be sick of you and your overly enmeshed boyfriend, just gets up and goes to grab the camera. When he returns, it dangles from his hand by a thin black strap. Itâs an old Polaroid camera, beat up in a way that tells you itâs someoneâs camera, not the parlorâs. Itâs a camera that has had its lens looked through with love on adored subjects.
âHer face isnât gonna be in this, right?â Satoru demands.Â
Choso shakes his head. âNo. Close-ups only.â
âYou owe me,â Satoru pouts, and you just know heâs salty as hell right now. The last time you pissed him off like this, he fucked you until your cunt was sore and youâd come so many times you were begging for him to relent. You couldnât even walk the next dayâhad to call out of work.
Choso takes a few steps closer, and you decide now is a prime opportunity to fuck with the poor guy. Using your arms, you push your tits together to make them look extra plump, then you give him the outlets look you can muster up. Jaw working, his Adamâs apple jumps rapidly up and down. His jaw falls open a little bit, and he just stares for a minute, until Satoru snaps, âWell, if youâre gonna take the fucking picture, then take the fucking picture.âÂ
âRight,â Choso breathes before springing into action. Immediately, he shakes his head and lifts the camera. He takes one picture and sticks it in a box on the counter, then takes a second and does the same. After a few seconds, he pulls the first picture out to let it finish developing under the light. Meanwhile, you pull your shirt down again before your boyfriend takes it upon himself again. When itâs ready, he hands it to you.Â
Oh. Wow. Your tits really do look cute with the piercings, all plumped up like that. âHere, this is for you to keep,â you say, handing it to Satoru. âConsider it your compensation.â
âA pittance,â he complains jokingly, but he takes the picture from you anyway and hurriedly stuffs it in his pocket at the dirty look you throw his way, like heâs afraid youâll take that back too. Fair assumption on his part because you were about to.Â
Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you finally stand up from the chair. âThanks, Cho. Maybe Iâll have to make you my regular piercer,â you tease, and it puts an expression of such profound want on his face that your walls clench around nothing.Â
âTry not to jerk yourself off too hard to the picture,â Satoru taunts irritatedly, sneaking in one last jab that reeks of jealousy. The space between your thighs gets even more damp and achy. Your boyfriend follows on your heels as you walk out the door. His arm wraps around your waist and slides into your back pocket to give your ass a little squeeze. After waving goodbye to Yuki and then Maki, youâre headed out the door and into the buttery sunlight of the late afternoon.
âYou know, Iâm getting really tired of that attitude you seem to get whenever you see him,â Satoru says eventually, the sounds of passing traffic loud and obtrusive on your walk back to the car. Thatâs also fair. You have been extraordinarily bratty where the cute piercer is concerned. He seems genuinely put out over it too, which isnât what you wanted; you just wanted to have a little fun at his expense.Â
âSorry baby,â you say sheepishly. Then, looking over at him, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. At last, you admit, âI just think youâre really hot when youâre jealous.â
The corners of his mouth turn up a bit, much better than that dreary frown he was wearing five seconds ago. âYou think Iâm hot?â He asks, like you havenât been together for years, like itâs some sort of surprise.Â
âIdiot,â you say, shaking your head as the two of you arrive at Satoruâs car. The black Mercedes-Benz glints in the afternoon light, the windows tinted as dark as they legally can be. âOf course I think youâre hot. Youâre the most gorgeous man Iâve ever laid eyes on.âÂ
That drags a full, albeit reluctant, smile from him. He reaches out and grabs your arm, pulling you into him. His head tilts down until your noses brush together. Without giving you warning or time to prepare yourself, his lips capture yours in a deep, greedy kiss. He groans into your mouth as his tongue sweeps into yours, parting your lips forcibly. Your lashes flutter; the weak-in-the-knees feeling you get whenever he kisses you is so strong you nearly buckle then and there. Pushing you up against his car, his knee slots between your thighs and grinds against your clothed pussy. He kisses you breathless, until your head is spinning and you canât tell up from down or left from right.Â
When he finally breaks it, you gasp for air, drawing great, big gusts into your lungs. A string of saliva connects his lips to yours still, but then his tongue swipes out to sever it. âPretty girl, youâre all mine. Donât you ever forget that.â
He finally releases you, allowing you to scramble inside and take up your spot as passenger princess. Satoru follows not far behind, sliding into the driverâs side and starting the car. After both of you are settled in, Satoru pulls the vehicle smoothly away. He weaves in and out of the city traffic with ease, arms corded with muscle flexing with each turn, which makes your mouth water for him.Â
âYou donât think itâs hot? Other men wanting me when youâre the one who gets to share a home with me? Who gets to be inside me?â You look at him out of the corner of your eye.Â
His eyes dart over to you, just for a second, then back to the road. âIâve never thought about it like that before,â he admits, shifting in his seat. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and murmurs, âYouâre a little fucking tease.â Well, heâs not wrong. Teasing is at least half the fun, maybe more than.Â
âSo what? Donât tell me you donât think it wouldnât be fun to stuff me full of your cock and make him watch,â you say, low and soft. âOr, give him a little taste while reminding him that you get to have everything. Make him listen to me moan for you.â You shrug, and lean back in the passenger seat, making yourself fully comfortable. âI donât know, I think itâs pretty hot.â
Satoruâs next words come out strangled. âI see your point.â When you look over at him, heâs sporting a fat bulge, the outline of his cock pressing against the front of his pants. âStill a tease though.â He clears his throat and adds, âYou gonna help me with this? Itâs all your fault anyway.â
You tip your head back and laugh. âHmm, I thought roadhead didnât interest you enough,â you say pointedly.
âOkay, okay, I get it. I should be grateful for what Iâm offered,â he says. âPlease, baby, Iâm begging you.â His hips lift just slightly, like heâs seeking friction he wonât find. âIâll give you anything you want, pretty girl.â When he looks over at you, you can see the desperation in his eyes. Itâs a good thing Satoru is no king because you get the feeling heâd sell the keys to a kingdom for you.Â
Slowly, your hand moves over the center console until it comes to rest on his thigh. You can feel his warmth, even through the fabric of his pants. Sliding your hand over to his straining bulge, you palm it first, giving it a few rough strokes over the fabric until your boyfriend is moaning, his teeth biting into his lower lip.
âKeep your eyes on the road,â you sing-song as you reach for his zipper.Â
It takes some doing, but you manage to unzip his pants and work his cock free. When it springs out fully, you take some time to admire the flushed pink head, leaking from the slit at the very tip, the thick jagged veins wrapping around the impressive length and girth of him. One thing you absolutely love about Satoru? How fucking big his cock is.
The first time he fucked you, you knew there was no going back once youâd felt him stretching you out. And he knew it too. He was so fucking cocky about it back then too, made sure to rail you extra hard to make sure you never forgot that feeling. And you havenât.
Leaning over the center console, you lap at the tip of his cock, tasting those salty-sweet clear beads resting on the crown. You moan at the taste and swirl your tongue all the way around the head, once, twice, before sucking him fully into your mouth. Satoru groans in reply, hips bucking up just slightly as he tries to fit more of himself between your lips.Â
The velvet feel of him and the way he tastes are intoxicating. Swirling your tongue around his tip, you then take him all the way back, back, back until his engorged tip bumps the back of your throat and you choke. âGood girl,â Satoru grits out, âSweet thing. So good for me.â
Slowly, you pull back again and swirl your tongue around the tip, dragging it up the sensitive underside. For several minutes you tease him just like that, which has him groaning and whining, but when you finally start to suck him in earnest, he has to fight to keep his eyes on the road, to keep his huge hands clenched around the steering wheel. You hollow your cheeks and give him as you pull back off him, giving him that tight suction you know drives him crazy. When you take him all the way into your mouth again
âFuck, fuck, fuck,â he lets out, and you can feel the muscles in his thighs tensing and relaxing repeatedly, almost shaking. âMmmm, my baby sucks cock so good. You love it, donât you?â At the way you moan around his thick cock in reply, a breathy laugh leaves his lips before he says, âAnd you wonder why I get so jealous. Itâs because youâre perfect, sweet girl.â
You look up at him through your lashes, catching his eyes right as he happens to glance down at you. Thereâs a soft expression on his face that makes your walls clench hard around nothing, something like adoration. It only makes you want to suck him down even more, another moan vibrating around his cock that makes his hips buck up gently. God, you fucking love tasting him, love feeling him stretching out your throat.Â
When he finally comes down your throat with a gasp, his cock twitching against your tongue as he spills thick, sticky white threads of cum into your eagerly awaiting mouth, you swallow it all with a moan. Why he thinks anyone could steal you away from him, you have no fucking clue, because youâd be hard-pressed to give up moments like these.
And little do you know that while youâre sucking your boyfriend off on the way home, a certain piercer is frantically jerking his cock to you in the bathroom of the tattoo parlor, the picture of your tits clenched in his hand, teeth biting hard into his lower lip to keep silent. Without even knowing it, you have two men coming for you at once.Â
âĄ
Itâs late at night when you and Satoru show up at Ink Black Hearts for your last healing check and your jewelry change. Itâs so late that not even Maki is in the shop acting as receptionist. After Satoru opens up the door for you and you duck inside, you find the waiting area entirely empty. The lights are dimmed, the sky outside is practically black, the light pollution from the city hiding any stars that might have been winking down at you.Â
âHello,â you call into the place, glancing around, trying to parse something from the eerie silence.Â
You hear the soft scuff of footsteps before Choso appears, pulling aside the curtain that separates the waiting area from the main parlor. His hair is down again today, falling almost to his shoulders. Like last time, he seems a little surprised to see you, dark eyes widening, before a smile tugs at his lips.Â
âDidnât expect to see you here so late,â he says, pulling the black gloves from his hands with his teeth. âYouâre lucky. I just wrapped up with a belly button piercing and was about to close up. Five minutes later and weâd have been closed.â He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning up against the frame of the entrance, and jerks his chin toward the back, âCome on back.â
You and Satoru squeeze past Choso, so close you can feel his body heat and smell the woody, spicy cologne heâs wearing. In the back, you walk over to the jewelry counter to start looking at pieces. A few catch your eyeâa pretty bar with rose buds on either end, a ring with a pink gemstone sakura on it, another ring with a blue gemstone and a pearl, another bar with a chain dangling from either end featuring several little metal flowers. You like all of them, but your eyes keep going back to the ring with the little Sakura on it.Â
Satoru comes up behind you and leans over you, looking over your shoulder at the jewelry pieces with you. Pointing to the little Sakura rings, he says, âYou like those?â
You crane your neck to look up at him and say, âYeah, but theyâre a little expensive. A hundred and fifty dollars for the pair.â They have the biggest price tag of the ones you like.Â
âPsssshhhh. Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets. Iâm buying, anyway. Youâre not spending a dime, sweets,â he coos, running a hand down your back. Then turning his head, he looks at Choso and says, âHey, she wants these.âÂ
The dark-haired man goes behind the glass display case and unlocks it. Reaching in, he taps his finger against the small velvet cushion the jewelry is resting on in silent confirmation. At Satoruâs nod, he pulls them out and jerks his chin toward the treatment table, âGo on, lie down.â
The little smile you give him is all cute and playful, specifically designed to push his buttons. Doing as asked, you go and lie down on the bench, your back against the cushion. Your boyfriend trails behind you to crouch down at your side, but surprisingly he isnât being as clingy or salty as he usually is when you come here, especially since youâre flirting with the cute piercer right in front of him. To your complete dissatisfaction, he hardly seems moved at all this time.Â
Choso sets the new jewelry on a tray and goes to wash his hands really quickly. In the brief moments that heâs gone, you look up at Satoru, trying to discern his mood, but his expression remains frustratingly unreadable. When Choso comes back, you flip up your shirt to reveal your bare tits to him.
First, he leans down to look at the piercings. âThey look like theyâve been healing well. Any issues?âÂ
You shake your head. âNone.âÂ
Nodding, he reaches out and gently twists one of the bars. When you give no indication of pain, he starts unscrewing the end of each bar before slowly pulling them out of your nipples. His fingers brush your sensitive skin every so often, which sends sparks of heat straight up into your center. His steady hands move in sure, deft movements, setting the plain pieces aside and picking up one of the rings. He holds the little circle up to the light and the pink gemstones that make up each flower petal glitter beautifully.Â
âThese will look nice.â Choso murmurs. Looking back down at you, his dark eyes trace your pretty tits. Cheeks turning slightly pink, he adds, âTheyâll be really, uh, pretty on you.â Slowly, he lowers the ring and then sits down on the rolling stool beside the table. He leans down and carefully slides one ring into your nipple. Once itâs secured, almost like he canât help himself, he squeezes that sensitive bud between his fingertips. Deep inside, your cunt aches terribly, aching to be punished.
Just when you start to think Satoru has stopped caring, he pipes up. âHah. Iâll bet you think so. I bet you think no matter what piece of jewelry goes into her pretty tits, youâd think they look nice, am I right?â
Choso chokes, which he quickly turns into a cough. For a while, he says nothing, just silently grabs the other ring to fasten it through your other nipple. Finally, he looks up at Satoru and asks tightly, âSeriously? Are you really asking me that?â He looks like heâs in some sort of hell.Â
Satoruâs smile widens at the red on Chosoâs cheeks. âWhat? Donât want to answer?â Thereâs a glint in those pretty blue eyes, something cold and dark, all hidden behind that cheerful, boyish smile. He snickers meanly and says, âWell, tell me this then: howâs that picture of them and your hand been serving you? How many nights have you jerked yourself raw wishing it was her?â
âSatoru!â You exclaim, looking up at your boyfriend. Absolutely shameless. And you thought you were being crazy. Flirting with Choso right in front of him was never going to end well, just like it hasnât the last two times. Well, maybe it does end well, because you always get fucked into next week.
âWhat? Look at that guilty face and tell me you donât think heâs been jerking off to that picture,â Satoru says, his huge arms crossing over his broad chest. When you look back at the dark-haired man, you do have to admit that Satoru is right. He does look quite guilty. He wonât meet your eyes, and his cheeks, ears, and neck are all bright pink. When neither you nor Choso say anything, he scoffs and adds, âThatâs what I thought.â The smile on his face turns mean, and he taunts, âWhat would you give for a taste of my girl, hmm?â
Your jaw drops. He did not just ask that. Youâre about to open your mouth, tell Choso to ignore your idiot boyfriend, but he beat you to it. âAnything.â His reply makes that damp spot forming in your panties grow even larger. A shudder goes down your spine at the dark, rough edge to his soft voice.Â
âAnything at all?â Satoru parrots back, those blue eyes sparking with something dangerous. He cocks his head and says calmly, âThen beg.â A light mocking laugh leaves his lips, and he says, âBeg, and I might let you suck on her tit, let you have a taste of whatâs mine.â
Okay, now youâre completely floored. Who is this guy and what has he done to your boyfriend? The man you love is stupidly, irrationally possessive, so this is a complete shock. âSatoru,â you say his name quietly. Then, youâre sputtering because you canât seem to find the right words. âAre youâwhat are youââ
Tilting his head to look at you, he coos, âItâs alright, baby. Donât act like you havenât been teasing him and shit. Encouraging his little crush on you.â
Well, guilty as charged. You 100% have been teasing your poor piercer, but itâs not your fault heâs so easy to tease and so cute when he gets all flustered. Maybe Satoru is rubbing off on you a little. It doesnât mean he has to call you out like that, though, so you lift your chin and say, âI donât know what youâre talking about.â Itâs a lie and an obvious one at that, and Satoru knows it too because he just gives you that same smile he gave Choso.
Turning his gaze back to the other man, he says, âWell?â
Clearing his throat, Choso looks up at your boyfriend. For a moment, he doesnât say anything. Then, very softly, he says, âPlease, please let me suck on your girlfriendâs tit.â He sounds absolutely mortified.Â
âOh, come on. You can beg better than that,â Satoru taunts.Â
Choso looks from him, back to you where youâre still lying on the table, the new rings in your pretty tits catching the light. âPlease, I really, really want to suck on your girlfriendâs tits. Please. Iâm begging you.â The way heâs staring at your body is as if itâs something he needs, something vital to his survival. Thereâs such longing on his face that it stuns you.Â
âWell, since youâre begging so nicely,â Satoru says meanly, eyes flicking between the piercer and you. âIâll let you suck on it.â His eyes flick between Chos and you, silently making sure youâre on board with it, and you just nod.
Choso needs no further encouragement. His large, steady hand comes up to cup your breast, and then he leans in to capture your little nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, tongue twirling around the little ring, flicking across the sensitive peak. The groan that comes out of his mouth and the way his eyes flutter shut gives away just how much heâs wanted this.Â
You canât help the moan that is pulled from your lips, so soft and sweet. He sucks on your tit like he needs it, like your body is the best thing heâs ever had the pleasure of having his lips on. One large hand comes down to rest against your side, running up and down your ribcage in soft, soothing strokes. The other rests on your hip, holding you in place. Your panties only grow wetter and wetter, the damp spot spreading with your slick. The familiar ache of needing to be filled pulses between your legs.
âHah, look at you, sucking my girlâs tit like you need it,â Satoru practically growls as he moves behind you to stroke his long fingers over your hair. You whimper at the combined sensations, the affection versus the filthy way youâre being suckled. âWhat are you? A virgin?â At Satoruâs prodding, Choso whimpers, sucking even harder on you, which makes your breath stutter. Satoru laughs, âYou want to suck her other one now? Beg me for it.â
Chosoâs head lifts, and he releases your nipple with a wet pop. A string of saliva stretches from your skin to his mouth, and his thumb flicks out over your nipple to disconnect it, and it makes you shiver. He looks up at Satoru, his dark eyes hungrier and needier than youâve ever seen them before. âPlease, please, please, please,â he begs breathlessly, one of his hands coming down to stroke over the bulge starting to strain against his jeans. âI want it so badly.â
Satoru just laughs and says, âAw, begging to suck a tit? What are you? A virgin?â But he still gives credit where credit is due and carries on, âGood boy, now beg her.â
His dark eyes turn to you, all dewy and puppy-dog-ish, and he whispers like heâs praying to god, âPlease, I want to suck your other tit, if youâif youâll let me. Please. Youâre just so pretty, prettiest thing Iâve ever seen.â
âYeah, she is, isnât she? And sheâs all mine.â Satoru coos, his hand stroking against your cheek. âWhat do you say, princess? Gonna throw him a bone?â
You nod slowly and murmur, âYeah.â
Choso needs no further encouragement. He latches onto your other tit, his jaw working as he sucks on that sensitive bud. You moan, looking up at your boyfriendâs face. He blinks down at you, those long white lashes closing for a second before revealing his pretty blue eyes to you. As Chosoâs tongue flicks over your nipple and toys with the little ring, you canât help but let out a lascivious moan.
âThat feel good, baby?â Satoru asks, his blue eyes dark. âTell me youâre mine.â
âAh, Iâm yours,â you gasp out as Chosoâs teeth scrape against your sensitive skin. âAll yours.â
âGood girl,â Satoru says sweetly, stroking your hair again.Â
When Choso finally releases your nipple, he gasps for air, like he was so focused on sucking on your skin that he forgot how to breathe. Staring down at you, his dark eyes are filled with desire, the bulge straining hard against the seams of his pants. Thereâs a little damp spot where heâs leaking pre onto the rough fabric. âYouâre so beautiful,â he whispers, his eyes roving over your body like heâs not sure where to look.
âSheâs even prettier when sheâs stuffed full,â Satoru says, and before you even realize whatâs happening, heâs picking you up like you weigh nothing at all and flipping you onto your stomach the wrong way across the table, so your head is dangling off one side and your ass off the other. Without giving you room to think or move, he yanks down your shorts and slaps his hand against your clothed pussy. You yelp at the sting, your walls squeezing around nothing. âHah, soaking through your panties like a little slut,â he says, rubbing your folds over the damp cloth in an almost soothing gesture.Â
âPlease,â you whimper out, and when you look up, your eyes land on Choso, who is staring at you like youâre the answer to all the questions of the universe.
âYou begging for me, baby, or are you begging for him?â Satoru demands with another sharp smack, this time to your ass cheek.Â
âAh, Iâyou,â you bite out.Â
Satoru just laughs and replies, âHah. Bey youâd love to suck his cock though, hmm? Little slut that you are? What do you think about that, baby? Give him a little taste of that pretty mouth that I can have whenever I want.â
âYes, pleaseâah,â your sentence is cut off by the whine that leaves your mouth as his hand cracks against your other asscheek.Â
Looking up at Choso, Satoru says, all lazy mockery, âWell, if you want her to suck your cock, you better ask nicely. One time offer, buddy, so you better enjoy every fucking second.â
He looks like a deer in the headlights, like heâs not quite sure how it went from having your nipple piercings changed to getting sucked off by your pretty mouth. After a moment frozen, he crouches down to make eye contact with you. Those dark, baleful eyes bore into yours as he says softly, âPlease, pretty, Iâd love it if you sucked me. Iâll never fucking forget it.â
Before you can say anything at all, Satoru grabs your hips and lifts them to slide your panties down. Then one finger plunges inside you, curling down towards your belly. âAhh, fuck, Toru,â you moan out as he fucks his finger into you, your slick coating his thick digit. Blinking up at Choso again, you nod because you donât trust yourself to get the words out.Â
Chosoâs brain buffers for a minute before he stands back up. He looks down at you again, his cheeks red, those dark eyes blackened with desire. Then, in quick, jerky movements, he unlatches his belt and shoves his pants and underwear down around his knees. Thick cock springing free, you canât help but notice how pretty it is. Flushed, purplish-red engorged head leaking from the little slit, two angry veins wrapping around the hard flesh, thatch of dark hair right at the base. He gives himself a couple of good strokes before standing in front of you and guiding his tip toward your open, eager lips.Â
Just as heâs about to slide himself inside, Satoru adds another finger to your dripping cunt and curls them down hard. Your mouth stretches open in a moan, and at the same time, Choso slides his thick cock down, down, down until he hits the very back of your throat and you choke, eyes watering.
âThere you go,â Satoru coos, âGood girl, just like you take me.â The pad of his thumb circles around your clit and you naturally want to grind yourself against his hand, but with the cock in your throat you canât. You have to rely on what Satoru gives you.
Moaning around Chosoâs thick length, you relish the way heâs stretching your throat out. The taste of his preâsalty, a little sweet, but not as sweet as your boyfriendâs. Itâs strange to have another manâs cock in your throat after three years of just Satoruânot bad, but he fits differently than youâre used to, plus heâs more gentle with you than Satoru. Heâs careful not to fuck into your throat too deep, each roll of his hips easy and smooth.Â
âTch,â Satoru scoffs, fucking into you harder with his fingers, his thumb working around your clit, occasionally skating over it with just enough pressure to make your hips jump and your back arch. âYou can be a little rougher with her. Put your hands in her hair. She can take it.â Then, pressing his thumb down hard on your clit, so hard that your thighs shake and you let out a keening moan around Chosoâs cock.Â
The vibrations around his cock, draw a moan from between Chosoâs lips, and he ruts into your throat a little harder. A big hand comes down on your hair and grabs a handful of it, just pulling hard enough for you to feel it.Â
Withdrawing his fingers from your soaked cunt with a wet schlep, Satoru murmurs, âOh, fuck, youâre so wet, dripping from my fingers.â Then, meanly, he adds, âBet youâd kill for a taste. You want some? You can suck it from my fingers.â Your eyes dart up just in time to see your boyfriendâs fingers disappearing into Chosoâs mouth. The manâs dark lashes flutter, and he groans while he suckâs Satoruâs finger clean. Thereâs a wet pop as he withdraws his fingers, and he murmurs, âSweet, isnât she?â
âThe sweetest,â Choso breathes, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat. The fingers in your hair tighten, and he starts fucking into you in earnest, the glide and stretch of his cock intoxicating. âYouâre one lucky fuck.â
âThink I donât know that?â Behind you, you hear the clink of Satoruâs belt coming undone and a second later feel his warm tip nudging at your tight little hole. He slides into you slowly, your cunt fluttering around him, until youâre full to the brim, that ache deep in you finally getting the attention it needs.Â
You let out another moan, the sound muffled by Chosoâs cock buried in your throat. Lashes fluttering closed, tears lining them, you tease his veins with the tip of your tongue. He fucking whimpers, his legs bumping up against the edge of the table, and you do your best to bob your head up and down in time with his rhythm.
Satoru, buried so deep in you that you can feel his tip gently kissing your cervix, finally moves. He sets a hard pace right from the start, pulling almost all the way out, then slamming back in, only to grind the crown of his cock into that spot thatâs as deep as he can go. His huge hands find your hips, pulling them up a bit, putting you right where he wants you. You moan around Choso's cock, barely able to keep ahold of your thoughts when every stroke of Satoruâs cock and the stretch of your throat threaten to send them all scattering like dandelion fluff on the wind.Â
Releasing one hip, Satoru slides the freed hand beneath and starts playing with your swollen, needy little clit. He strokes it hard now, in time with his thrusts; gone are the gentle teasing strokes from before. Thatâs what sends all your thoughts scattering. An endless stream of moans falls from your lips, which only serves to make Choso fuck harder into your warm, wet mouth.
âGood job, baby,â Satoru grunts out, his thumb circling over your clit in a way that has your thighs starting to shake. âDoing so good for us.â
âSo pretty, such a sweet girl,â Choso murmurs in turn, the hand buried in your hair holding you in place as he starts to fuck into your throat harder, faster. âGood girl. Thank you. Thank you.â
If you could form a coherent thought, you might think to yourself how cute it is that heâs thanking you for sucking him off. Unfortunately, thoughts are not something you have access to at the moment. All you can do is feelâthe sweet pressure from Satoruâs thumb, his cock railing into that sweet spot inside you that makes you fucking dumb, the way you swallow Chosoâs cock down.Â
Itâs not long before your body starts to tense, the muscles in your thighs and calves twitching. Tension ratchets down in your guts, tightening down more and more with every stroke of Satoruâs digit, every pump of his cock. Your body is starting to feel light and warm, everything emptying out of your head at once at the feeling building in your center.
âFuck, gonna come for me, sweets?â Satoru coos, the words strained. âCan tell youâre getting close, baby. Can feel her starting to squeeze me even better.â Then soft, low, and dark, he murmurs, âCome for us, pretty girl. Know you want to.â
And fuck, you do want to.
The circles his thumb is making on your clit go faster and faster. He fucks into you meanly, not giving you a centimeter of breathing room, railing into that spot that has you seeing stars until youâre dripping down your thighs, your legs.Â
Choso is the first to break. âAh, sh-shit, g-gonna f-fucking come,â muttered a half second before heâs spilling warm, sweet-salty cum straight down your throat while you eagerly swallow every drop.Â
That, along with the way Satoru grinds his cock deep inside you and how his thumb is circling your clit hard and fast, are what push you over the edge. Youâre moaning around Chosoâs twitching cock as your cunt spasms around Satoru. Pleasure rips through you, arcs of heat lightning snapping through limbs, rolling through your body from your center. Tears are streaking down your face, darkness creeping around the edge of your vision, hearing coming and going. Your entire body feels warm and light in this moment.Â
Satoruâs thrusts grow more and more erratic until heâs shoving his cock as deep in you as it will go and spilling inside you with a groan of relief. Every little twitch of his cock in your cunt makes you whimper a little more. Eventually, Choso pulls out of your mouth, a string of your saliva mixed with his cum stretching out. You blink up at him with watery eyes, and he reaches down to gently stroke your cheek.
âAlright, enough of that,â Satoru grunts as he slowly pulls out of you, âNo one said you could touch her face all tender and shit.âÂ
You would laugh if you had the strength.Â
Choso rolls his eyes and scoffs, âYou know, you really donât deserve her.â
You can hear the warmth in Satoruâs voice is obvious, the complete and total adoration, âOh, trust me, I know. But sheâs mine anyway.â
A/N: 12k of straight smut????? Lmao, sorry guys, this got to be really long. TY all for reading. Reblogs and comments are especially appreciated.
Tag reqs HERE // â. đËàż m.masterlist đđËâ
[ content: crazy!reader, fluff (?), rage baiting sukuna, #makehispocketshurt, for my cutie pie @indiewritesxoxo think of this as a love letter ]
Most people never understood your relationship with Sukuna.
For the most part, you were a friendly, upbeat personâtalking to strangers in line at the grocery store, talking up the baristas making your coffee orders, sharing recipes with call center agents when the call got too long.
Then thereâs the big grumpy man thatâs always standing right behind you, and he never fails to look miserable when doing so. Strangers will try to speak to him and heâll either grunt in response or just pretend to not hear them at all. Same goes for baristas. The last time he spoke with customer service through the phone, the agent started the call off by saying they hoped he was having a good day so farâSukuna got annoyed and grumbled, âno you fucking donât,â in hopes that theyâd stop with the pleasantries.
Overall, heâs just kind of a dick. They look at you and immediately think of some horrific scenario like Sukuna yelling at you for not having dinner done by the time he got home.
That brings them to the question: how do you two even get along?
And your answer to that is: you kinda don't.
But that's okay! You knew what you were signing up for and you don't regret it one bit. You love him, and you love making him angry. It's so easy, too. Who needs therapy when you can just stress him out? Exactly.
So you sent the text.
[You]: are you fucking serious right now? i had to find out from HER?
[My Husband đ„°]: what are you talking about?
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
[My Husband đ„°]: babe pick up the phone
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
[My Husband đ„°]: what the fuck are you even talking about? find out WHAT???
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
[My Husband đ„°]: BABE
[My Husband đ„°]: PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
Missed call from My Husband đ„°
The only reason why the phone calls stopped was because you blocked him, but he wouldâve kept calling until his phone died. Itâs happened before.
Soon you get a Zelle notification.
R. Sukuna has sent you $200.00.
Memo: unblock me.
You sent R. Sukuna $20.00.
Memo: you can keep your fucking money
R. Sukuna has sent you $20.00.
Memo: you canât just tell me to keep my money but then pocket more than half of it. and what the fuck am i gonna do with 20 dollars??
You sent R. Sukuna $2.00.
Memo: and now you have 2, see what happens when you donât appreciate what you have?
R. Sukuna has sent you $2.00.
Memo: what the fuck does that even mean?? can you just unblock me already?
You sent R. Sukuna $0.50.
Memo: no
R. Sukuna has sent you $100.00.
Memo: JESUS FUCKJNGCHRIST UNBLOCK ME
You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.
Memo: NO
You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.
Memo: weâre out of sugar and creamer btw donât forget to grab some on your way home
locking him out | pudding cup problems | jealous kuna!
Everyone said your breakup was inevitable.
You never believed them.
Even if it was you who stubbornly ended things after a nasty argument over something stupid, who was supposed to take out the trash turning into the complete and utter decimation of your relationship as you took turns rattling off every single aspect wrong with your relationship.
How much you hated how Sukuna only told you he loved you when he was between your thighs. How much he hated the way you snapped at the tiniest things.
But it was the moment he called you annoying for picking a fight that you pushed him out your front door and told him to never come back if he actually thought that.
"I didn't mean-" He called out, pounding on the door as you scoffed, rubbing underneath your eyes before any tears could actually fall.
"You fucking said it."
"Don't be like this," Sukuna snapped, the door frame rattling underneath the force of his fist.
"Just go," you scoffed. "You don't have a girlfriend to annoy you anymore here."
It wasnât like you hadnât fought like that before.
But you were mad enough to block every number he tried to text you from and change your locks for the twentieth time instead of begrudgingly letting him back into your home and your heart.
You could forgive him for letting other girls flirt with him, or forgetting to text you back. You couldn't forgive him for wounding your ego.
A reasonable girl probably would'e nursed her broken heart by sleeping with one of his friends.
You, on the other hand, fucked his landlord instead.
Sure, it took a little bit of research, but he was hot, at least. And went to the same bar every Friday night for you to find him at. All you had to do was slip into the seat next to him and he was taking you home half an hour later.
To the floor right above your ex-boyfriend's apartment.
His car was in the parking lot. His lights were on from outside.
So he was certainly home to hear you moaning like a cheap porn star, gasping out and groaning as the headboard smacked into the wall with each mean snap of his hips against your skin.
Did he realize it was you?
"Um, what's your name again?" You pretended not to know, tilting your head to the side as your hookup's scarred mouth curled up in a smirk.
"Toji," he grinned, grabbing your thigh and pinning it against your chest as he grinded the fat tip of his cock nice and deep. "What's yours?"
You slyly smiled back at him, whispering it softly knowing he'd be more than happy to repeat it.
So Sukuna would have to know who was moving on first.
What did it matter if you couldn't cum without closing your eyes and picturing him on top of you instead? Or if you just felt hollow by the time he pulled out and pumped his cum all over your stomach, lazily walking over to clean you up with the t-shirt he'd been wearing?
You sorta thought he'd come stomping upstairs and banging on the door to demand you came back out.
But you only woke up to a stranger with dark hair snoring on you, his head slumped on your breast as one of his calloused palms squeezed your ass.
You were going to just sneak out.
It was just, he woke up to you getting dressed, and you somehow ended up walking down the stairs with him to go get breakfast in last night's mini dress, your makeup smeared around your eyes and your purse slung across the shoulders as he led you down the concrete stairs.
And straight into Sukuna.
Who, uh, must've missed last night's show judging by the stunned surprise written all over his face, nearly dropping the coffee in his hand as he froze in place.
But then Toji was tugging you against him, pulling you down the rest of the way and pushing open the door to the bottom floor with a scoff. "Don't know what the fuck his deal was."
"We, um, actually used to date," you murmured, softening your voice and looking up at him with your most innocent eyes. "It was kind of a bad breakup."
"Want me to raise his rent?"
a/n: do y'all want one more of him winning her back?
Summary: A rough day at work means Steve deserves some kind of relief. Luckily, you know just how to give it to him
Content Warnings: MDNI +18, established relationship, domestic fluff/comfort, oral (m!receiving), brief gagging/choking, misogyny if you look close enough (like with a microscope), illudes to even more sex
Word Count: 706
Author's Note: i originally wrote with Rafe Cameron in mind but the obx corner of Tumblr seems to be on hiatus till season 5 releases // Masterlist
The door creaks open as Steve steps in. Youâre sprawled across the bed, computer open but untouched beside you. The TV throws flashes of light across the room, exposing every crease of exhaustion on his face.
âOh Stevie.â Your legs swing off the bed, moving as fast as they can towards him.
His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in for a hug.
âHi doll.â His head settles on your hair. With each breath he takes, his heartbeat slows.
âWas work bad?â
You regret asking the question as his breathing shallows, shoulders tense again.
âYeahâŠIt was a little rough.â
âIâm sorry.â
Your apology softens him enough that he presses a kiss to your forehead. It really shouldnât be you apologizing. If anyone, it should be the idiots at work.
The TV light flickers once again stealing his attention. âWhatâre you watching?â
âI donât know, some new romance Nancy wouldnât stop talking about.â
He chuckles at the thought of you actually being able to sit through this. One line of dialogue is enough for him to scoff.
âThis show is horrible.â
You laugh, cheeks heating up. âI know, I know.â
You peek around his shoulder and watch the show with him. The characters are alone in a bedroom, both tipsy but desperate for each other.
Steveâs breath hitches as the couple begins touching each other. So much for hating romance. Moans rattle through the speakers and heat floods your face. All you can think about are those noises coming from him. Your hands trace his spine, but he pays no mind, eyes glued on the screen.
You rack your brain for a way to steal his attention, but your hand makes the decision before you do. It unbuttons his pants, dipping into his boxers. You grab his cock and run your thumb over the tip.
He jerks back, head slamming on the door. âFuck, what are youââ
âShhh. Just relax.â You drop to your knees, pulling his pants and boxers down so that they pool at his ankles.
âI canât relax when youââ your tongue licks from the base of his cock to the tip, ââoh fuck.â
You hum sending his nerves into shock. One hand meets the back of your hair, but he doesnât tug or push down like usualâhe allows you to take control.
A grin forms as you gag around him, spit dribbling down the corners of your mouth and onto his shoes. He shouldâve taken them off by now, but with the way youâre sucking him, he couldnât care less.
His hips stutter, curses filling the room both from him and the mind-numbing show on the TV. You pull back, taking a breath, before forcing yourself as far down as possible. Your throat spasms around him and, without warning, he cums down the back of your throat. Heâs salty but somewhat sweet, the taste has never bothered you much.
His hips and hand lock you in place for longer than comfortable, air in your lungs dissipating. The release seeping down the back of your throat only suffocates you more. You smack his thigh roughly and he snaps out of the daze, dragging you off of him. He peers down at you, pupils blown out.
âFuckkk, that cured me doll. I should take you to work with me so you can do that all day.â
He hooks his hands underneath your arm, lifting you onto your feet. You meet gaze with teary eyes and a smile he could never forget.
âLet me return the favor to you now. Iâll make you feel better.â He scoops you up and carries you to the bed.
âGod, youâre so strong. Muscles so big.â You trace the ridge of his bicep.
He tosses you down with a chuckle. The TV shuts off meaning you mustâve landed on the remote, or it felt the same way about the show and turned itself off.
You giggle glancing back at him before letting your legs fall apart. Cold air rushes across your skin, exposing the lack of clothes on your lower half.
âI canât control myself when you do shit like this.â His hands drag the skin on his face down. âFuck me.â
a collection of one shots, drabbles, and mini-series following different moments from your relationship with Sukuna
content: modern au, sukuna x f!reader, established relationship, gamer!sukuna, soft!sukuna, fluff, slice-of-life, crack, slow moments, married chaos, married stupidity, the whole friend group is sometimes there too
main masterlistââŠâao3
đđąđŹđđ„đđđĄđ
âȘŒ skincare
ââSukuna lets you drag him into your skincare routineââŠâfluff
âȘŒ your eating habits
ââfluff
âȘŒ you feel like picking a fight
ââchaos, relationship stupidity, petty argument, comfort
đđšđŠđđđĄđ
âȘŒ đŽđźđșđČđż!đŠđđžđđ»đź đșđ¶đ»đ¶-đđČđżđ¶đČđ
âââȘŒ part 1 ⊠Sukuna wants you in his spaceââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ part 2 ⊠Sukuna teaches you thingsââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ part 3 ⊠Sukuna shuts things down before you have to askââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ part 4 ⊠Sukuna tries something new just to share it with youââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ part 5 ⊠Sukuna makes even chaos feel manageableââŠâfluff
âȘŒ đ±đżđđ»đž!đŠđđžđđ»đź đșđ¶đ»đ¶-đđČđżđ¶đČđ
âââȘŒ he fixates on a very important question for his wife
ââââcrack, fluff
âââȘŒ he decides to remind his wife exactly who she married
ââââcrack, fluff
âââȘŒ he becomes convinced something is wrong with his tattoos
ââââcrack
âââȘŒ he makes it very clear he's taken
ââââcrack, fluff
âȘŒ đŠđđžđđ»đź đčđŒđđČđ đ”đ¶đ đœđČđżđđŒđ»đźđč đđœđźđ°đČ đșđ¶đ»đ¶-đđČđżđ¶đČđ
âââȘŒ when he's reading a bookââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ when he's making coffee in a heatwaveââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ when he's trying to napââŠâfluff
âââȘŒ more coming soon...
âȘŒ his favourite soundââŠâthe alternative ending
ââmuscles, flexing and gigglesââŠâfluff
âȘŒ his favourite animal is his wife when she's drunk
ââcrack, fluff
âȘŒ how one huge piece of furniture mysteriously appeared in your apartment
ââread gamer!Sukuna part 1 firstââŠâcrack, fluff
âȘŒ hear me out cake
ââcrack, fluff
âȘŒ pretending to give Sukuna the silent treatment
ââcrack, fluff
âȘŒ valentine's day
ââfluff, crack
âȘŒ Sukuna gets hit on while you're busy befriending a stray cat
ââfluff
âȘŒ you call Sukuna mid-ranked and it turns out he has softer setting just for you
ââgamer!Sukuna ft GojoââŠâfluff, crack
âȘŒ you decide to fuck around and find out with Sukuna
ââsmut
âȘŒ you want a cat, and Sukuna absolutely does not
ââfluff
âȘŒ you vs. self-checkout vs. Sukunaâs patience
ââcrack, fluff
âȘŒ Sukunaâs mechanic intuition
ââfluff
âȘŒ bad day protocol
ââchaos, married stupidity, petty argument
âȘŒ you know Sukuna's in love when he can't hold back the tremble in his voice
ââfluff
âȘŒ tracing Sukuna's tattoos while he plays
ââgamer!SukunaââŠâfluff
âȘŒ waking up in the middle of the night to find Sukuna still gaming
ââgamer!SukunaââŠâfluff
âȘŒ calling Sukuna a good boy
ââfluff
âȘŒ dragging Sukuna into the photo booth
ââfluff
âȘŒ it's your anniversary and Sukuna doesn't really... like the way you're dressed?
âânot fluff, more like married stupidity
âȘŒ putting petrol in Sukuna's diesel jeep
ââcrack
âȘŒ Sukuna doesn't handle waking up alone in the middle of the night very well
ââfluff
âȘŒ Kunaaaa, why aren't you holding my hand?
ââfluff
âȘŒ asking Sukuna if you're too clingy
ââfluff
âȘŒ surprising Sukuna with lunch at the shop
ââfluff
âȘŒ asking Sukuna about the date he planned for tonight, except⊠he never planned one
ââcrack, fluff
asking Sukuna about the date he planned for tonight, except⊠he never planned one
a/n: got such an amazing idea in an ask that i just had to write it
Itâs a quiet Friday afternoon, and youâre both sitting in his gaming room. Sukunaâs at his desk, sprawled out in nothing but loose sweatpants, lazily scrolling through something on his PC while a stream hums low from his second monitor. Off to the side, youâre sunk deep into your oversized armchair, legs tucked up, twirling a strand of hair around your finger like youâre not plotting the most dangerous trap heâs ever walked into.
A soft, thoughtful hum slips from your lips as your gaze drifts over to his profile, lingering on the broad expanse of his bare torso, and for a moment, itâs genuinely difficult to remember youâre supposed to be scheming.
âHey, when should I start getting ready?â you ask softly, sounding like itâs no big deal.
âFor what?â he asks, barely glancing away from his screen.
âWhat do you mean, for what?â you shoot back, giving him your most innocent grin. âFor the date you said you planned.â
Sukuna freezes, his hand pausing mid-click over the mouse. For a split second, his brain short-circuits so violently you can almost see the static. He swivels his chair to face you fully, crimson eyes locking onto yours, searching your face for any hint, any clue. His mind races through every conversation, every text, every random comment from the last few weeks, desperately trying to figure out what the fuck he supposedly promised.
Did she say something last week? Did I promise something while half asleep? Fuck, did I actually invite her for a date and forget?
âThe... date,â he echoes, his voice dropping an octave as he does his best to sound completely unbothered and in control. âYeah, yeahâget ready soon.â
"Mm... what are you wearing then?" you ask, resting your chin in your hand. "I don't know if we're matching the vibe or not."
A beat of silence drops over the room, thick and deafening. Sukunaâs jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath his ear, and his eyes drift back to the monitor, but itâs obvious he isnât seeing a thing. Inside his head, gears grind together at a breakneck pace, panic threatening to short-circuit every rational thought.
Matching the vibe? What fucking vibe?
Heâs fifty percent convinced he blacked out an entire conversation, fifty percent convinced heâs losing his mind, and one hundred percent determined to never, ever let you see him sweat.
"Well," Sukuna starts, slowly turning his head to look at you once again. He tries for a calm, confident smirk, though tension flickers around his eyes as he searches your face for a single crumb of a clue. "I mean, that depends on what you wanna wear, doesn't it?"
"Kuna, come on, don't do that," you giggle softly, shaking your head. "You picked the place, so you set the dress code. Are we doing fancy, or should I just throw on something cute and simple?"
The trap snaps shut. Sukuna's mind spirals into absolute chaos, running at a million miles an hour. Say itâs fancy, and heâs doomed if he picked somewhere casual. Say itâs casual, and you show up underdressed for some high-end place he apparently reserved weeks ago, and heâs a dead man. Honestly, heâs a dead man either way if he really did promise you something special, because he canât remember making a single reservation at all.
If thereâs not a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, there should be. For a split second, his composure cracks, his brow furrowing in silent distress, before he clears his throat and reaches across the gap with his large hand, grabbing your ankles and tugging your legs off the cushion, draping them over his thick thighs.
"You look good in anything, angel," he purrs, leaning forward to rest his hand on your knee, thumb rubbing lazy circlesâanything to distract you and buy himself five more seconds. He flashes a crooked grin. "Just pick something you like, and I'll match."
"Mmm, okay," you hum, sinking back into the plush cushions and tapping your chin in mock-deep thought. "I just hope we don't end up waiting as long as last time. The food was worth it, but that line almost killed me."
Sukuna freezes entirely, his breath slipping out in a slow, silent exhale that feels almost painful to watch.
We've been there before, great food, long line... What fucking place had a line we actually waited in?
His mind frantically scrolls through every date night from the last two years: sushi bars, steak houses, taco trucks, upscale Italian, late-night ramen, trying to pin down which one he supposedly promised you just days ago. His massive shoulders tense as he sits up straighter, the effort so intense you can almost feel the heat radiating off him.
I mustâve promised only a few days ago. How the fuck did I forget?
"Line won't be a problem tonight," he lies through his teeth, his voice dropping into a low rumble as his hand slides up to squeeze your thigh. "Took care of it."
"Oh, you made a reservation this time?" you ask, looking up at him from your seat with wide, bright eyes. "Didn't think they did those on weekends! How'd you pull that off?"
Sukuna freezes mid-motion, the smallest flicker of surprise widening his eyes before he clamps down on it, jaw going rigid.
No reservations on weekends? Great. Backed myself into a fucking corner now. What the fuck am I supposed to say after that?
This is itâthe absolute limit of human endurance. Balanced on a conversational tightrope stretched over a pit of fire, heâs surrounded by conflicting clues, unable to commit to a single outfit or restaurant. There he sits, a giant, terrifying man held hostage by an imaginary date night, looking for all the world like heâs trying to solve advanced physics in his head.
He fixes you with a stare, maintaining that arrogant smirk through an absolutely heroic amount of concentration, determined to bluff his way straight into the grave if he has to.
"Iâve got my ways, brat," he rumbles, sliding his hand around your wrist and pulling you gently closer, leaning in at the same time and pressing a lingering kiss to your foreheadâone last desperate distraction.
"I'm just excited, you know? You're so sweet to plan this out of nowhere, Kuna," you chirp sweetly, holding back a laugh. You beam at him, swinging your feet like you can barely contain your glee, letting your voice turn all sing-song and syrupy just to watch him squirm.
Looking down at your smiling, innocent face, Sukuna's massive ego crumbles for a split second under the weight of the mystery.
"Waitâwhat time did you book it for?" you ask before he thinks of an answer to your praise, looking up at him expectantly as you pull back to lean against the cushions again. "I know itâs tonight, but you never said whenâare you trying to make me late on purpose? How much time do I actually have to look cute?â
His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. For a horrifying half-second, he freezesâlips parted, eyes darting from the clock on his monitor to the floor, then back to your face. His mind is utterly, completely blankânot a single coherent thought.
Think. Dinner. Six? Seven? Eight? What time sounds normal?
"You don't remember?" you ask softly, tilting your head just a little as you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes, the tiniest smile threatening to betray you.
"I remember!" Sukuna snaps a little too fast, his voice cracking with a rare, desperate edge before he quickly clears his throat to cover it. He shifts in his gaming chair, his jaw working as his eyes widen in full-blown panic.
Pick a number. Any fucking number.
"Of course I remember, woman. It's... It's in my phoneâset a reminder and everything. Who do you take me for? 7."
"Right," you say, trying not to laugh at the thought of Sukuna actually fussing with a calendar app.
"Now quit grilling me and go get ready before you start worrying we're gonna be late."
Looking up at his face, you catch the tiny, panicked tension around his eyes despite that confident smirk. Unable to resist, you decide to drag it out just a little longer, savoring every second of his internal panic.
You tilt your head, looking at him from your chair. "You're driving us, right? Or are we taking an uber?"
"I'm driving," Sukuna says instantly, the answer automatic as he clutches at the first scrap of control he can find before his own brain has a chance to second-guess it.
"You remember how to get there, right?"
"Yeah," he grumbles, rolling his shoulders as he shoots you a sharp, warning look. "Of course I do."
"Good," you chirp with an easy smile. "I completely forgot the street name. What was it again?"
Nothing. I have nothing... This is it. I'm dead.
Silence instantly smothers the room. Sukunaâs entire body goes rigid, every muscle locked, and the arrogant smirk vanishes. His eyes go wide, locked onto yours in pure, unfiltered, deer-in-the-headlights terror. Not a word escapes himâthereâs no way in hell he could even guess a street. He just sits there, trapped in a corner of his own making, paralyzed by the sudden realization that heâs completely, thoroughly backed into a wall.
Letting it stretch for ten long, glorious seconds, you watch his brain fry in real time. Then, a sharp, hysterical giggle bursts out of you, shoulders shaking violently as you bury your face in both hands, wheezing for air.
"I know there's no reservation, Kuna," you manage through laughter, shaking your head. "I know there's no date."
Sukuna blinks once, then again. For a moment, itâs like his brain canât quite process the words, and then relief crashes over him so hard it nearly knocks him flat. The tension drains from his massive frame all at once, leaving him slumped boneless against the back of his chair.
A long, heavy exhale escapes him as he drags a hand down his face, wiping away the real sweat of the last ten minutes. He sits there, utterly defeated, looking like he just barely survived a war zone. There's not even enough strength left in him to pretend to be angry; every bit of mental energy got burned up trying to solve an imaginary puzzle.
"Jesus christ," he mutters into his palm, his voice a rough, exhausted rumble.
His hand drops, and he glances over at you, taking in the way youâre sitting there, absolutely delighted with yourself. Shaking his head, he lets a slow, helpless grin tug at the corner of his mouth, exhaustion still written all over his face.
"Yeah, well," Sukuna rasps, his eyes softening as he gently shoves your ankles from his legs, then reaches out and wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you up and into his lap. "We can still go on one."
You tilt your head, settling sideways across his thick thighs with a curious smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he sighs, arms locking around your waist as he buries his face in your hair, slumping back into his chair. "I'll take you for that pasta you love so much, you menace."
"Oh, you're down bad, Kuna," you tease, grinning as you tug him down for a kiss, your fingers threading into his hair at the back of his head.
"I was sitting here trying to remember if I'd booked a fucking table in my sleep, you know?" he rasps, his breath fanning across your cheek as his lips brush yours, the low rumble of a laugh vibrating through his chest.
"You really were trying so hard to play it cool," you murmur, nudging his cheek with your nose.
"I was cool the whole time," Sukuna protests, but the lopsided grin stretching across his face gives him away as he squeezes your waist.
You smile up at him, fingers tracing a slow, absentminded line along his jaw. "So what exactly was your plan, then?"
He blinks, looking genuinely lost for a second. "Huh?"
"If I'd actually gone to get dressed... then what?" you ask, tilting your head.
Sukuna just stares at you for a long moment, his brows drawing together in mock concentration before another helpless laugh escapes him as he shakes his head in defeat.
"No idea." He snorts, raking a hand through his hair as he shakes his head. "I figured I'd think of something in the car."
You burst out laughing again, swatting his shoulder as you double over, nearly collapsing into his chest. "You seriously think that would've worked?"
"I was very committed to making it work," he answers, trying to look serious, but his eyes are bright with laughter.
Before you can get another word in, he leans forward and peppers your cheeks and neck with a relentless barrage of rough kisses until you're laughing too hard to fight him off, your hands doing little more than getting in the way.
Finally, he sets you back on your feet, steadying you with a firm grip on your waist before pushing himself up out of the chair. "Now go get dressed, brat."
At eighteen, freshly graduated from high school, you couldnât wait to forget your old life, sever all contact with your old classmates, and never return to the godforsaken town of Hawkins, Indiana, where you had been born and raised.
Now, at twenty-one years old, and just one year shy of graduating NYU and snatching your masterâs degree in Art Therapy, you couldnât wait to return to the sleepy little town.
It had nothing to do with missing your old mates or the achingly slow routine youâd left behind two years earlier. Hell, it wasnât even because you missed your parents â which you did, obviously â but that wasnât the reason you were planning to move back.
New York was, for lack for a better, great. Truly. It was everything youâd dreamt about throughout your teenage years â multicultural, freeing, authentic in a way that demanded respect, with a shit ton of opportunities Hawkins couldnât even dream of offering.
But it was also⊠just too much.
Too loud. Too smelly. Too busy. Too anxiety-inducing.
Hawkins, on the other hand, wasnât amazing. Most of the time, it wasnât even fun.
But it offered a quiet that you never realized you needed until you moved to the East Coast, without ever asking anything in return.
It wasnât a place that expected â nonetheless demanded â you to keep up, nor did it punish you for slowing down and taking a breather. You could leave the house without planning every minute of your day around subways delays, packed sidewalks, and whether or not you could afford another ridiculously overprices coffee just to justify sitting somewhere for an hour.
In Hawkins, you knew the cashiers at the grocery store and which roads flooded first after heavy rain. You knew which diner stayed open the latest, where to get your tires replaced without getting ripped off by some surprise inspection tacked onto the bill, and exactly which back roads to take if you simply wanted to drive with the windows down for a while.
It was the kind of comfort you missed in the big city.
So the moment your final summer break before your last year of graduate school rolled around in the middle of May, youâd already made up your mind â you were going home for the first time in two years.
Unfortunately, your bank account had other ideas.
Rent in New York â even while sharing a shoebox apartment with two other girls â had a funny way of reminding you that dreams didnât pay themselves, and neither did tuition. So instead of immediately packing your bags and hopping on the first plane to Indiana, you picked up every extra shift your manager was willing to throw your way.
Mornings behind the espresso machine turned into afternoons. Afternoons bled into closing shifts. Before you knew it, six weeks had disappeared somewhere between burnt coffee, impatient tourists, and people who genuinely believed ordering six different modifications somehow made them easier to deal with.
It wasnât until the first week of July, when your savings account finally looked healthy enough, that you were able to point yourself towards Indiana.
Not forever. Come mid August, youâd be squeezing back into your apartment, picking up where youâd left off, and tackling one final year before graduation. But for the next month and a half, Hawkins was home again.
Funnily enough, the cheapest flight back from New York to Indianapolis landed in the middle of the night on the Fourth of July â only forty bucks cheaper than the alternatives, but still. An extra forty bucks for a college student meant not eating ramen for four consecutive days.
And, considering, you hadnât given your parents an exact date for your return, arriving early on the holiday made for a nice surprise.
What wasnât a nice surprise, however, was the half-hour delay it took to get off the plane. The two-hour drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins in a cramped rental car wasnât exactly enjoyable either, although the endless stretches of cornfields and the occasional herd of cows were enough to pull a small smile onto your face again.
The weather had already been bordering on suffocating at almost ten in the morning when you passed the Welcome to Hawkins sign, and the cracked windows of the car did little to help in that regard.
But it was the Fourth, and that meant your parents were probably putting up the pool â if they hadnât already done it the day before â and that an endless supply of ice-cold drinks was already waiting for your surprise return.
You instinctively turned the volume of the radio down as you made the familiar right turn into your old neighbourhood.
The early morning sunshine stretched across the quiet streets, warming the asphalt as it spilled between neat rows of modest houses and leafy trees. Tall utility poles and tangled power lines framed both sides of the road, looking exactly as they had the day youâd left.
Your foot eased off the accelerator almost automatically when the familiar house came into view. The wraparound porch looked exactly as you remembered it, supported by simple wooden posts and bordered by a railing that had hosted more lazy summer afternoons than youâd probably ever admit missing.
And then you noticed the ridiculous red, white and blue decorations your dad insisted on dragging out of the attic every year.
A massive American flag covered nearly the entire front window. Patriotic garlands hung from the porch ceiling. And, judging by the perfectly coordinated flower beds, your dad had somehow convinced your mom to plant red, white and blue flowers just in time for the holiday.
Jesus fucking Christ.
That⊠was definitely something you hadnât missed.
Youâd save the annual debate about nationalism, capitalism, and the political and economical state of the country and why you didnât believe the Fourth of July and its founding fathers were something worth celebrating for another day. Preferably one that didnât involve your father.
The engine died with a quick twist of your wrist, followed by the familiar click of your seatbelt, but you didnât get out just yet. Instead, you sat there for another moment, your shoulders relaxing almost instantly as you looked at the house youâd once spent every waking moment trying to escape.
Your street had barely changed. Down the road, Mr. Flynn was moving his front lawn like he did almost every morning, while the kids of number 61A were already testing fireworks far too early.
Your lips curled into a small smile as you finally pushed the car door open and made your way to the trunk to grab your bags.
The fence around the house had recently been given a fresh coat of lacquer, and the brick path leading to the backyard had clearly been scrubbed clean days earlier.
Pushing open the familiar creaking gate and stepping into the backyard pulled a content sigh from your chest as you finally set the heavy bags on the ground.
âYou here already, Ed?â
Your dad pushed the screen door open with one hand while carrying a heavy-looking cooler in the other.
âWho is Ed?â you asked when your eyes landed on your greying father.
A heavy thud echoed through the otherwise quiet backyard as he let the cooler slip from his hands, standing frozen between the back door and the patio.
âWhat the fuck?â
âPlease donât curse this early in the morning!â your mom called from somewhere inside the house.
âIâm pretty sure youâll be cursing too if you saw what the fuck Iâm seeing.â
While your dad remained rooted to the spot, eyes still wide with disbelief, your mom mumbled something unintelligible as he made her way towards the backyard.
The towel sheâd been drying her hands with joined the cooler on the ground.
âWhat the fuck?â
âTold you.â
A disbelieving chuckle escaped you as the two of them simply stared.
âI told you guys I was coming home from the summer.â
âBut not that you were coming today!â She hurried over and wrapped her arms around you, only pulling back enough to cup your face between her hands. Her eyes searched every inch of it like she hadnât seen you in decades. âWhy didnât you call? We couldâve picked you up from the airport.â
âI wanted to surprise you guys.â
Your dad finally seemed to reboot.
âDid you rent a car?â was the first thing out of his mouth.
âHi to you too, Dad.â
âHow much was it?â
âThatâs your first question?â You tilted your head in disbelief.
âOh, Pigeon,â your mom whispered, still holding your face. âYouâve lost weight. Have you been eating properly?â
âMom, Iâm fineââ
âRentinâ a car is expensive,â your dad muttered, already fishing his phone out of his back pocket. âOn top of paying New York rent? Jesus, Pigeon. You shouldâve called.â
âDad, I rented the car for three daysââ
âIâm sending you money.â
A laugh escaped you despite yourself.
Almost twenty-one years old, and you were still their baby girl â apparently incapable of looking after your own health or your own finances.
Not that there was any point to trying to convince them otherwise, their minds had already been made up.
The cooler had been completely forgotten beside the screen door as your dad wrapped his hands around the handles of your bags â despite your repeated insistence that you were more than capable of carrying them yourself â and made a beeline for your childhood bedroom.
He was still going on about the rental car as you followed him up the creaky staircase, only abandoning the subject once heâd nudged open the familiar white bedroom door with his foot.
The door was still decorated with stickers. The walls were still painted your favourite shade of pale green, and the embarrassingly emo and scene band posters youâd sworn youâd take down before leaving college were still scattered across them.
Aside from the new rug in the middle of the room, nothing had changed.
âYou should call your friends,â he said as he set your bags down on the bed. âSee if anyoneâs around to hang out.â
âI kinda lost touch with everyone, Dad,â you replied with a small shrug. âIâm perfectly happy hanging out with you two.â
âWell, us two and Eddie.â He scratched at his beard. âAnd a handful of our other friends too.â
âWhoâs Eddie?â You frowned.
âEddie Munson.â He pushed the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt farther up his arm, revealing the tattoo heâd gotten the year before. âHe moved back last year when his dad got sick. Opened a tattoo studio downtown not long after.â
Your hand reached out almost on instinct, fingertips brushing over the healed ink.
The words of an embarrassingly sentimental poem youâd written in elementary school curved neatly around his upper arm, permanently preserved in your own unmistakable chicken-scratch handwriting.
And just above it sat a black-and-grey coloured realistic pigeon.
You still werenât entirely sure which tattoo was more ridiculous.
âI still canât believe you actually got this tattooed,â you snorted, looking back up at him.
âYeah, well,â he chuckled, tugging his sleeve back down. âCan you blame me for being obsessed with my only child?â
âIf your obsession makes you do stupid things?â You folded your arms. âThen yes. Absolutely.â
He raised an eyebrow and rested his hands on his hips in that particular way that always told you your dad was about to call you out.
âSays the girl who got 1D tattooed on her ankle when she was fourteen.â He pursed his lips for a moment before they curled into a disbelieving grin. âStill have no idea how you managed to get a tattoo back then.â
âBlack ink from a pen and a sewing needle.â You shrugged as you unzipped one of your bags. âSaw a tutorial on YouTube.â
âJesus Christ.â
Your giggles echoed through the bedroom as your dad simply shook his head, muttering something about teenagers while backing into the hallway.
âPut your bikini on. Itâs gonna be hot today,â he said, pausing in the doorway to rap his knuckles against the frame, and then pointed a finger at you. âAnd then get downstairs and help me with the grill.â
âAye, captain,â you laughed. âIâll be down in a bit.â
âGood.â
The door clicked shut behind him, and silence settled over the bedroom once again.
You let yourself sink onto the edge of the mattress before eventually falling backwards with a soft whump, the old springs protesting underneath your weight just as they always had, and you let your eyes wander across the familiar room.
The glow-in-the-dark constellations were still stuck to the ceiling. The bookshelf tucked beside your desk still leaned ever so slightly to the left after youâd tried to climb it when you were ten. The faded Polaroids hanging from the mirror still showed smiling faces youâd long since lost touch with.
Nothing had changed â not really.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you were kind of grateful for it.
It took you a few more seconds of studying an older, more innocent version of yourself before you finally pushed yourself off the bed to change into a bikini like your dad had suggested.
For a second, while pulling open one of the drawers, you considered putting on the ridiculous American flag bikini as a joke, but the thought of your dad embarrassing you by saying something along the lines of, âNow thatâs what Iâm talking about! Celebrating the American spirit!â was enough to make you think better of it.
So you opted for another one instead â the one with the gold sequins and pink beads youâd bought during your junior year in a desperate attempt to impress Andrew Harrington.
Despite what your mom had claimed downstairs, you hadnât actually lost weight. If anything, somehow surviving almost exclusively on ramen and bread had convinced your body that your chest needed to grow another cup size. The bikini still fit, but the straps leaned a little more to the digging into your shoulders side.
A pair of light-washed denim shorts covered the bottom half of your bikini, and your sneakers were swapped for sandals.
The familiar creaks of the staircase were drowned out by the unmistakable roar for a pickup truck pulling into the driveway as you made your way downstairs.
âDad,â you called as you stepped into the kitchen. âNeed anything from inside?â
âUhâŠâ he thought aloud for a second. âNo, Pigeon. I think we got everything already.â
You hummed in acknowledgement and wandered over the fridge instead.
Having a beer at ten-something in the morning wasnât exactly frowned upon if it was the Fourth of July, right?
You grabbed one from the bottom shelf before popping the cap off against the edge of the countertop, taking a long sip as the icy bitterness settled pleasantly against the summer heat that had already begun creeping into the house through the open windows.
Outside, a car door slammed shut, and your dadâs voice carried through the open window almost immediately.
âAbout time you got here!â
A manâs laugh answered him.
âHad some things to sort out.â
You were halfway through another sip when your dad called again.
âPigeon! Come out here for a sec!â
Beer still in hand, you made your way towards the backyard, already half-expecting him to need help moving the grill or finally dragging the pool out of the garage.
Your dad stood barefoot on the grass, tongs in one hand and a bag of charcoal in the other, a broad grin already spreading across his face.
Beside him stood a man in a faded band t-shirt and a pair of dark three-quarter shorts, two six packs tucked beneath one arm.
Greying curls brushed his shoulders, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his head. Tattoos disappeared beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, and you were fairly certain you caught the glint of a small silver hoop through one of his nostrils.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He looked up at the sound of the screen door creaking open.
âWell,â he chuckled. âIâm guessing this is the famous poet who wrote Lovely Purple Pigeons.â
A warm laugh escaped you as you finally snapped out of your thoughts. Shaking your head, you walked down the few steps towards the two men before offering him your hand.
âWell, Iâm no Emily Dickinson,â you joked, âbut Iâm glad you enjoyed my greatest work.â
You ignored the feeling of your tongue sliding over your bottom lip when a large, calloused hand wrapped around yours, his handshake firm without being overbearing.
âIâve heard a lot about you,â he said with a smile. âKinda impossible not to become a fan of your work.â
âIâd say the same,â you replied, âbut I still think letting my dad get that tattoo counts as a felony.â
That pulled another laugh from him.
Meeting new people had never exactly been your favourite thing. While you werenât the most sociable person in the word, you werenât exactly an introvert either. More often than not, though, first conversations felt painfully awkward.
Meeting Eddie was nothing like that, and conversations came surprisingly easily.
He laughed at your jokes â whether because they were actually funny or simply because he was being polite, you had no idea â and every question he asked felt genuine instead of obligatory.
More importantly, he never once spoke to you like you were still fifteen. Considering most of your parentsâ friends still seemed convinced you were, that alone was enough to make you like him.
Your dad, who had wandered over to the grill while you and Eddie were talking, pulled you out of your thoughts when he spoke again.
âEmily Dickinson has nothing on you, Pigeon,â he called over his shoulder before doing a double take. ââŠIs that a new one?â
Your eyes followed his line of sight to the palm-sized, fine line design of a little fishing boat resting against your ribcage.
âUh, yeah,â you admitted. âGot it during spring break with a friend.â
âYou donât even like boats.â He frowned.
âItâs an inside joke from when we were, uh,â You hesitated for a second before taking another sip of your beer, ââŠstoned.â
Your dad raised an eyebrow before pinching the bridge of his nose.
âThere was something about boats and Led Zeppelin.â
âI donât even wanna know.â
âTattoos and Led Zeppelin?â Eddie laughed beside you. âOh, I definitely wanna know.â
You looked over at him, only to find warm brown eyes already fixed on yours, and your mouth opened and then immediately closed again.
A stupid little laugh escaped you as warmth crept across your cheeks.
âItâs really not that interesting,â you warned.
âIâll be the judge of that.â
Jokingly rolling your eyes at him, you gave in anyway.
You told him about spending spring break in Florida with one of your roommates, getting far too high one evening, and somehow ending up in a twenty-minute conversation about whether Led Zeppelin sounded more like the name of a rock band or a fisherman boat.
Somewhere along the way, your roommate started pronouncing Zeppelin in an exaggerated Southern accent that had reduced the two of you to tears.
Looking back, it wasnât even that funny â not unless youâd been there, at least.
âSee?â you finished with an awkward shrug. âItâs one of those stories.â
The crowfeet beside his eyes deepened as he laughed.
âNo, I get it.â Eddie smiled. âIâve got a shit tone of those too.â
Adjusting the two six-packs, he nodded towards your side.
âMind if I take a look?â
You returned the nod before turning slightly, lifting your arm just enough for the tattoo to come into view.
Eddie stopped closer â not enough to crowd you, but just enough to see the details.
âCan I?â
You nodded again, and his fingertips brushed lightly against your skin as he gently stretched it, the touch careful and practiced in a way that immediately gave away years of experience. Professional. Matter-of-fact, even.
Which definitely didnât explain the fresh wave of heat climbing into your cheeks.
âIt healed really well,â he said quietly, studying the delicate shading. âNice line work.â
A smile tugged at your lips. âIâll pass the compliment along.â
âRibs are a bitch to get tattooed.â
âIt honestly wasnât that bad,â you admitted. âIt tickled more than it hurt.â
âHuh.â The corners of his mouth twitched. âThatâs a first.â
He let his hand fall away before straightening to his full height, and only then you realised just how much taller he actually was.
Well over a foot, if you had to guess. Which definitely wasnât something you were thinking about either.
His eyes lingered on yours for just a second longer before he looked over towards your dad.
âSo,â he said, lifting the six-packs. âWhere do you want these?â
Your dad muttered something unintelligible while gesturing vaguely towards the house.
Eddie looked back at you.
âYou wanna show me where the kitchen is?â
You raised an eyebrow at that.
If Eddie was more than just your dadâs tattoo artist â which, judging by how comfortably the two of them interacted, he clearly was â then he absolutely knew where the goddamn kitchen was.
But still.
âSure.â
Turning on your heel, you led the way inside.
Entering the kitchen, your mom had just put the lid on the bowl of potato salad before turning around and making a beeline for the backyard.
Balancing the bowl on her hip, she pulled Eddie into a quick side hug, asking how his dad had been while you set your bottle down on the counter and opened the fridge.
âIâm gonna see if your dad needs any help,â she said over her shoulder. âBe right back.â
You hopped up onto the counter beside your beer as Eddie stepped over the fridge.
âHow long are you staying?â he asked absentmindedly while tearing the plastic wrapping off one of the six-packs.
âI fly back on the twentieth of August,â you answered lightly.
A low whistle escaped him before he spared you a quick glance as he returned to stocking the already overcrowded fridge.
âThatâs a long time to spend in a town like Hawkins.â He huffed out a quiet laugh. âEspecially when youâve got New York to go back to.â
âYeah.â You nodded, reaching for your bottle again. Your fingers absentmindedly started peeling away the label. âItâs justâŠâ
The sigh that followed was almost drowned out by the refrigerator humming as it struggled to keep up with the summer heat and the open door.
âItâs not what you expected?â Eddie offered.
âNo, it is.â A small smile tugged at your lips. âMore than I expected, actually.â
You looked down at the bottle slowly turning between your fingers.
âBut I guess I found out thereâs beauty in simplicity, too.â
Silence settled comfortably between the two of you after that.
Eddie finished squeezing the last few cans into the fridge before his eyes drifted towards the nearly empty bottle in your hands.
Without asking if you wanted another one, he reached in one last time and grabbed two cold beers.
âI spent twenty years trying to escape this place.â He popped the caps off both bottles with a battered old lighter before holding one out towards you. âNow I canât imagine living anywhere else.â
âYeah.â You bit your lip as your fingers curled around the cold bottle. âIâm thinking about moving back next year.â
His eyebrows lifted at the confession.
Taking a long sip of his beer, he stepped closer to the counter and leaned against it, turning his face towards you.
âItâs the rent, isnât it?â He teased.
âDefinitely.â A laugh escaped you before you took another sip.
The sound of clattering dishes and your parentsâ laughter drifted through the cracked kitchen window, filling the comfortable silence that settled between the two of you.
âSoâŠâ you spoke up after a few moments. âYour own studio, huh?â
Eddieâs eyes, which hadnât really left your face since heâd walked over, softened into a smile before he glanced down at his boots.
âItâs busier than I expected,â he admitted, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. âGuess Hawkins isnât the conversative little town it used to be.â
âWas it that bad?â
âOh, yeah.â A disbelieving chuckle slipped from him. âThe principal called my old man the first time he saw this.â
He swapped the beer into his other hand before extending his right arm towards you, and your eyes immediately fixed on the faded marionette inked across his forearm.
âMaster of Puppets by any chance?â you asked quietly.
His gaze lifted from the tattoo to your face. âYouâre a Metallica fan?â
You tipped back the last of your first beer before answering.
âI went through a metal phase,â you admitted with a sheepish smile. âAlways skipped that song, though.â
Eddie tilted his head back dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as though youâd personally offended him.
âOh, fuck off.â
A laugh burst out of you at his antics.
âWelcome Home was my favourite.â
âJesus,â he sighed. âThatâs somehow even more depressing to hear, sweetheart.â
The word settled somewhere low in your stomach.
Not because it was particularly intimate â if anything, it rolled off his tongue with the effortless ease of someone whoâd probably called half the town sweetheart at one point or another.
But it somehow felt different directed at you.
Heat crept into your cheeks as you looked away, your tongue absentmindedly sweeping across your bottom lip before your attention dropped to the empty bottle in your hand. You rested it against the windowsill, intending to throw it away later.
âYeah, wellâŠâ You shrugged, searching for the right words. âGuess Iââ
âPigeon!â Your dadâs voice boomed from the backyard. âHelp me light the goddamn grill, for the love of God.â
You squeezed your eyes shut before answering.
âComing!â
Eddieâs snort of laughter followed you as you hopped off the counter.
âI should probably go save him from himself.â
âProbably for the best,â he grinned. âIâd hate for your old man to burn his eyebrows off before lunch.â
You laughed, shaking your head as you headed for the back door.
Being your parentsâ only child, your dad had spent the better part of twenty years making sure you knew how to do just about everything he could think of â from managing your finances, although he sometimes questioned your abilities, to cooking what he insisted was the perfect steak.
Which was why, apparently, you were the only person capable of getting the grill started.
The very same grill heâd begged for two Fatherâs Days ago after doing, in his words, extensive research on the best one money could buy.
Your beer instantly found a home on the folding table beside it as you crouched down to inspect the brand-new gas cylinder.
A sigh escaped through your nose as you shot your dad a quick glance before you reached down and connected it to the grill.
âJust tell me your knees are hurting next time.â
âThatâs slander.â
âNo,â you replied, straightening back up. âThatâs old age, Dad.â
Somewhere behind you, Eddie laughed.
You glanced over your shoulder just long enough to catch him leaning back in one of the lawn chairs, beer balanced against his tattooed knee and a grin still lingering across his face.
Your dad, meanwhile, looked thoroughly offended.
âIâll have you know these knees still work perfectly fine for my age.â
âClearly.â
You turned the gas valve before pressing the igniter, and the grill roared to life on the first try.
âThere.â You dusted your hands together. âHappy?â
âI wouldâve gotten there eventually.â
âBut you wouldnât have gotten back up.â
The familiar creak of the backyard gate interrupted whatever comeback your dad had been preparing.
A chorus of cheerful greetings immediately followed as a handful of familiar faces filtered into the yard, coolers swinging from their hands and bowls of homemade food balanced carefully against their hips.
Your mom was already making the rounds, hugging nearly everyone before they had both feet inside the gate.
It didnât take long for the backyard to settle into the kind of comfortable chaos that only existed at neighbourhood barbecues. Someone had already claimed the lawn chairs beneath the shade, while another group gathered around one of the many coolers in search of cold drinks.
Laughter drifted across the yard, blending with the occasional pop of early fireworks somewhere in the distance as the late-morning sun climbed steadily higher.
âYou wanna help me with the pool?â Your mom asked as she approached, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. âGod knows your father will take too long getting it out of the garage.â
âYeah, of course.â
Keeping her arm around you, the two of you made your way towards the garage.
During one of your many phone calls, your mom had mentioned she was planning on spring-cleaning it, but you hadnât actually believed her until you stepped inside.
Gone were most of the shelving units that had once covered the entire back wall, along with the countless heavy boxes that had sat on top of them. The concrete floor looked freshly swept, and judging by the faint smell that still lingered in the air, the walls had recently been given a fresh coat of paint, too.
âSo,â your mom started casually as she searched between the remaining boxes, âwhat do you think of Eddie?â
You turned towards her just in time to stop yourself from looking quite as startled as you felt.
âUhâŠâ You cleared your throat. âYeah. Heâs⊠cool.â
If sheâd noticed the slight hesitation or the awkwardness creeping into your voice, she didnât let on.
âHeâs handsome too, isnât he?â
âMom.â
She dismissed your protest with a wave of her hand, a grin already spreading across her face.
âOh, come on. Iâm not blind, Pigeon.â She crouched down to tug at a large carboard box before looking back up at you. âAnd Iâm closer in age to him than I am to your father.â
Right.
The age gap between your parents was practically the size of the Atlantic Ocean.
But still somewhat smaller than the Pacific Ocean-sized gap between you and Eddie.
Guess having a thing for older men ran into the family.
âHe kind of looks like one of those boys you have all over your bedroom walls.â She wiggled her eyebrows. âJust⊠older. And without make-up.â
âI guess.â You shrugged, hoping the conversation would die there.
The sound of cardboard scraping against metal shelves echoed through the garage as your mom finally managed to wrestle the pool box free.
She let it drop onto the floor with a heavy thud before turning back to you, the faint smile sheâd been wearing slowly softening.
âYou alright?â
âYeah.â You nodded a little too quickly before reaching down for one side of the box. âOf course, Mom.
She studied you for another second or two before deciding not to push any further, and offered you a warm smile.
âCome ne.â She grabbed the other end of the box and nodded towards the backyard. âThe longer we wait the longer itâll take to fill the pool.â
The box was just as awkward to carry as you remembered, and your mom laughing at the disastrous way the two of you shuffled back towards the party definitely earned her a look.
Somehow, the two of you managed to carry it across the backyard before dropping it onto the grass with a heavy thud.
You immediately crouched down to pry open the cardboard flaps, fishing the instruction booklet from the top for a quick refresher. A few pages flicked by beneath your thumb as your eyes skimmed over the familiar diagrams.
âWeâve been putting this thing up for almost a decade, Pigeon.â Your mom looked down at you as though consulting the instructions was the most ridiculous thing sheâd ever witnessed. âWe donât need the instructions.â
âLast time I was here, this thing nearly collapsed,â you muttered dryly, still scanning the pages.
A teasing smile spread across her face. âWhat happened to all that loud Girl Power thing of yours?â
âI turned the volume down,â you deadpanned, setting the booklet aside before reaching for the folded blue liner.
The plastic unfolded with a dramatic whoosh, nearly knocking your backwards. Your mom burst into laughter, gripping the edge of one of the folding tables to steady herself.
âOh, shut up.â
âI didnât say anything!â
âYou carried me for nearly ten months. Iâm literally capable of reading your thoughts, Mom.â
Still chuckling, she helped you spread the liner across the grass while the metal poles clicked together with familiar little snaps.
As always, the liner refused to cooperate, folding in on itself every other minute before one of you inevitably sighed, untangled it, and started again.
From the other side of the backyard, Eddie tipped his bottle back before glancing over at the two of you with quiet curiosity.
âShould we help them?â
Your dad looking over his shoulder, and a chuckle escaped him before he turned his attention back to the burgers sizzling on the grill.
âNot if you wanna keep your head.â
By the time the pool was finally standing upright instead of threatening to collapse every five minutes, the sun had climbed high enough for the backyard to shimmer beneath the relentless July heat.
Burgers and hotdogs had long since disappeared from paper plates, coolers had been emptied and restocked more than once, and youâd already claimed the half-filled pool despite the water still being cold enough to make you swear.
The other guests drifted in and out of the house as though it were their own, someone had put on a questionable summer playlist that crackled through the garden speakers, and every now and then another firework echoed somewhere across town despite it only being four in the afternoon.
Somewhere between rescuing your dad from overcooking another batch of burgers, helping your mom carry dishes back and forth, and watching Eddie seamlessly weave himself into every little task the afternoon seemed to produce, he had quietly made it a habit to bring you a fresh beer whenever he got one for himself.
You never asked. He simply remembered.
Youâd spent the last ten minutes talking to one of your momâs friends about New York, college, and the seemingly endless questions of the existence of someone in your life.
âSo youâre still studying psychology?â
âArt therapy,â you corrected with an easy smile, grateful for the change of subject.
âOh, right!â she laughed. âI keep forgetting.â
She excused herself to the bathroom not longer after that, and before the chair sheâd left beside the pool had even stopped rocking, a smudge of black dropped into it.
Eddie leaned back with a satisfied sigh, one arm draped over the backrest of the pool.
A laugh escaped you. âIâll take that as a compliment.â
âIt was meant as one.â
Silence settled between the two of you for a few seconds before he broke it again.
âI gotta admit,â he started, unable to stop the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. âYouâre not exactly what I expected.â
âWhat were you expecting?â Your eyebrow lifted.
âI donât know.â He answered truthfully and took another sip of beer. âIâve heard so much about you over the last year that I think I accidentally invented an entirely different person.â
He looked you up and down â but not once did he linger anywhere below your clavicles.
âYouâre considerably more interesting that I had imagined.â
Your tongue swept across your bottom lip as you tilted your head to the side.
âI wouldâve thought youâd have learned how to flirt better at your old age.â
Eddie barked out a surprise laugh.
âOld age?â
âYou heard me.â
He was still too busy laughing to notice your fingers curling around his beer bottle. You stole it from his hand with surprising ease before taking a slow sip without ever breaking eye contact.
His laughter faded as you tipped the bottle back.
âCareful. Keeping doing things like that,â he smiled, âand people are gonna think you like me.â
âWhat if they are right?â
Your fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary against his when you handed the bottle back.
âI donât know.â He wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle again. âYou tell me.â
Neither of you looked away, and after a moment, Eddie scratched thoughtfully at his beard.
âYou wanna know something,â he began slowly, his eyes dropping briefly to the bottle in his hand before finding yours again. âIâve been trying very hard not to flirt with you all day.â
âYeah?â
He nodded once.
âThought itâd be inappropriate.â His gaze flickered towards your parents for the briefest of moments before returning to you, shrugging lightly. âYou know⊠Me being friend with them and all.â
The pool creaked softly as you leaned back against the wall, cool water lapping gently around you. Tilting your head back just enough to let the afternoon sun warm your face, you closed your eyes with a quiet sigh.
âYouâre forgetting thereâs a big age gap between them too,â you murmured.
Silence settled for another moment â long enough for you to become acutely aware that he still hadnât looked away.
In fact, you were fairly sure his eyes had trailed somewhere past the tight straps digging into your shoulders.
âThirteen isnât quite the same as twenty-three, sweetheart,â he replied distractedly.
âNo,â you admitted as a quiet laugh escaped you, opening your eyes again. âI suppose not.â
âItâd be different if I didnât know them.â
You studied him for a moment, catching the way his gaze indeed lingered on your bikini before trailing up to meet yours.
âYou know,â you stared slowly. âYouâve been doing a terrible job with the whole not flirting thing.â
âYeah?â Eddie barked out a laugh. âThought I was being subtle.â
âThere wasnât anything subtle about the way you just stared at my breasts, Eddie.â
You bit your bottom lip to stop the smile threatening to spread across your face as you watched his mouth fall open.
That was clearly not something heâd been expecting, and for what was probably the first time all afternoon, he looked completely speechless.
His mouth opened once, only for him to close it again. then he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, clearly searching for something â anything â to say.
Somewhere behind him, your dadâs booming laugh cut through the silence that had settled between the two of you.
âEd!â he called from the grill, and pointed towards the man standing next to him. âGet over here. You gotta hear this.â
Eddieâs eyes flickered back to you for one last glance before he pushed himself up from the chair.
âTry to pay attention,â you called after him before heâd fully turned around, and then lowered your voice just enough as you continued. âAnd try not to imagine them without the bikini.â
If he hadnât been flustered before, he certainly was now â the flush spreading across his milky cheeks deepened as he paused mid-step, his mouth opening before immediately closing again.
A quiet laugh escaped you when you noticed his Adamâs apple bobbing.
Then, as he started walking backwards towards your dad, he pointed the neck of his beer bottle in your direction.
âWeâre not done with this.â
A grin tugged at your lips.
âPromise?â
For a split second, he looked like heâd forgotten how words worked.
Then he simply shook his head, mumbled something and laughed under his breath as he finally turned away.
Jesus fucking Christ.
The rest of the afternoon slipped away much the same way the earlier hours had.
Somewhere along the way, your dad had insisted on putting on his classic rock playlist after declaring the previous one too depressing, despite nobody remembering whoâd put it on in the first place. A few more neighbours filtered through the creaking backyard gate with desserts balanced on plates, while the coolers slowly emptied for what had to be the fifth time that day.
Every now and then, youâd catch Eddie looking your way.
Sometimes heâd smile. Other times, heâd simply lift his bottle ever so slightly in your direction before absentmindedly dragging his tongue across his bottom lip and returning to whatever conversation heâd been pulled into.
And every single time, your stomach betrayed you over the smallest breadcrumb of attention he offered.
The relentless July sun eventually began to lose some of its bite, giving way to a softer warmth that settled over the neighbourhood, while the sky above slowly traded its bright afternoon blue for streaks of peach and pale gold stretching lazily between the telephone poles.
The water that had felt heavenly just an hour earlier had cooled enough for goosebumps to creep across your arms. With a quiet sigh, you climbed out of the pool and reached for the towel draped over one of the lawn chairs.
As you dragged it over your arms, your gaze wandered across the backyard.
People were sitting instead of standing now. The grill had long since been turned off, paper plates were stacked in uneven piles on the folding tables, and the softer evening light settled gently across everyoneâs faces.
This was exactly what youâd missed; not the fireworks, or even the stupid holiday, just this. People lingering without watching the clock. Conversations drifting from one topic to the next. Nobody in a hurry to leave.
After drying your feet just enough to slip your sandals back on without worrying about eating shit in front of half the neighbourhood, you made a beeline for the house.
You had barely let go of the screen door behind you when it was pulled open again from the other side. The damp strands clinging to the back of your neck barely shifted as you glanced over your shoulder.
Eddie.
ââŠToilet,â he mumbled, though the word lost some of its conviction when his eyes betrayed him and briefly flickered to your hard nipples peeking from underneath the bikini before snapping back to your face.
âRight.â The corners of your mouth twitched as you turned around and continued walking. âYou know where that is or do you want me to show you that too?â
The screen door slammed shut behind him.
âFunny,â he muttered, falling into step a few paces behind you.
Resting you hand against the banister, you paused just long enough to watch Eddie reach for the downstairs bathroom door, only to find it occupied.
âBe out in a minute,â your dadâs muffled voice called from the other side.
A quiet chuckle escaped you as you watched Eddie pull a face.
âThereâs one upstairs you can use,â you offered softly before turning towards the staircase without waiting for an answer.
The heavy footsteps against the old wooden steps were enough, anyway.
Once upstairs, you silently pointed towards the door next to yours before disappearing inside your own room.
Pretending to have forgotten to close the door behind you wouldnât hurt anybody, right?
Biting your thumb, you waited for a moment until the loud flush from the bathroom next door slipped through the cracked bedroom door, followed shortly by the brief hiss of the sink before throwing the bikini on the wooden floor with a wet slap!
A content sigh escaped you at the freeing feeling of finally peeling it off, the towel quickly finding its way across your chest before you leaned over your bed in search of the first oversized shirt you could find in your bags.
While pulling the shirt out of your bag, the familiar stick-covered door creaked further open again.
âInteresting interior design.â
You glanced over your shoulder just enough to Eddie leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes slowly wandering across the pale green walls before landing on you.
âOne Direction and Black Veil Brides posters werenât exactly what I was expecting.â
âThat seems to be a recurring theme today, huh?â you replied with a small smile before turning back and throwing the towel onto the bed before pulling the shirt over your head.
It took him longer than expected to find a reply.
âYou keep surprising me.â
Behind you, Eddie wandered farther into the room with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his shorts, taking his time looking over the bookshelves and framed photographs scattered between rows of well-loved fantasy books.
Youâd long since stopped feeling embarrassed every time someone looked at your old pictures. If anything, they only made you feel strangely nostalgic now.
âHow old were you here?â he asked quietly, his attention fixed on a framed picture of you and your dad and a sea of strangers behind you.
You followed his gaze, landing on the picture your mom had taken at your very first concert.
Mark Knopfler â not exactly your first choice, but after your parents had failed to find someone willing to babysit, youâd ended up having to tag along anyway. Looking back, it had eventually become one of your favourite childhood memories.
âTwelve, I think.â
Taking advantage of Eddieâs attention remaining glued to the picture, you stepped out of your damp bikini bottoms before pulling on a pair cotton shorts youâd fished from your bag.
The quiet rustle of fabric followed by the metallic clink of a small tin opening finally pulled his attention away from the picture. His eyes settled on the weathered little metal box resting in your hands, the dents and scratches along its surface giving away years of previous owners.
âYou smoke?â you asked, holding up the small resealable bag tucked.
A crooked smile slowly spread across his face.
âI used to deal when I was your age,â he admitted with an almost sheepish shrug. âObviously I donât anymore butâŠâ His eyes flickered briefly towards the bag before finding yours again. âYeah. I still smoke on occasion.â
Your eyes wandered over him almost absentmindedly, taking in the faded band shirt, the tattoos disappearing beneath the fabric, the rings decorating his fingers and the curls brushing his shoulders before one corner of your mouth tugged upwards.
âYeah, I can see that.â One teasing eyebrow lifted. âI bet you had the whole bad-boy thing going on.â
A warm laugh rumbled from his chest.
The silence that followed settled comfortably between the two of you as you returned to the task at hand â grinding the buds, laying a thin layer of tobacco onto the rolling paper, and tucking a paper filter into one end.
Heavy footsteps echoed softly against the walls as Eddie wandered farther into your room before eventually settling onto the edge of your bed beside your begs.
âNot bad,â he murmured, watching your fingers roll the paper back and forth before your tongue swept across the adhesive strip to seal it shut.
The brief glance at your mouth hadnât gone unnoticed.
âMany years of experience,â you chuckled.
âYou say that like youâve been smoking for a decade.â
âEh.â You shrugged. âHalf of one.â
You tapped the finished joint against the little metal tin a few times to pack the contents before pushing yourself off the bed and making your way over to the window seat.
Eddieâs eyes drifted towards the open bedroom door.
âYour parents donât mind?â
A laugh escaped you as you accepted the lighter he held out before patting the empty cushion beside you.
âMy dad doesnât care as long as Iâm not doing coke,â you replied with a shrug. âAnd my mom will probably ask for a hit later.â
The old wooden window seat creaked beneath the added weight as Eddie settled beside you. It was just wide enough for the two of you, provided you both kept your legs on the ground or close to your chests.
The excess paper burned away beneath the warm flame of his lighter, and before long the room filled with the familiar earthy scent you only let yourself indulge in every now and then.
The first drag hit the back of your throat in a sharpness that almost made you cough â though, thankfully, not quite to embarrass yourself â and left behind the grassy, slightly citrusy taste youâd always associated with summer evenings.
Just like that, the joint began making its way back and forth between the two of you while the muffled sounds of laughter, music and clinking bottled drifted up from the party downstairs.
âSoâŠâ Eddie finally spoke after another drag, exhaling the smoke slowly through his nose. âArt therapy.â
You looked over at him.
âWhat do you actually do?â
âItâs pretty much in the name,â you smiled, handing him the lighter when you noticed one side of the joint had started burning unevenly. âTraditional therapy doesnât work for anyone.â
Eddie took another drag while he waited you to continue. When you didnât, one corner of his mouth lifted.
âTell me more.â
âYou sure?â A small smile tugged at your lips as you accepted the joint back from him. âBecause once I get started, I tend not to shut up.â
âI enjoy flirting with you,â he admitted with a quiet smile, âbut Iâd like to get to know you better, too.â
The warmth that spread across your cheeks had absolutely nothing to do with the weed of the last few remaining streaks of golden sunlight.
Your eyes dropped briefly to the lighter turning absentmindedly between his fingers before you took another drag and handed the joint back.
âWe guide clients through different themes and encourage them to express themselves through art,â you began, speaking a little slower than before as the familiar fogginess settled comfortably over your thoughts. âAfterwards, we reflect on what the creative process might be communicating rather than focusing on whether the artwork is actually⊠good.â
Eddie nodded quietly, never once interrupting or taking his eyes off of you.
Encouraged by the genuine interest in his expression, you found yourself explaining how different materials could encourage different forms of expression, why the finished piece almost never mattered, and how every client inevitably communicated something unique through whatever they created.
Only when you heard yourself wandering into the four levels of expression did you finally stop.
âSorry,â you mumbled with a sheepish smile, scrunching your nose.
âWhat are you apologising for?â Eddie asked gently, tilting his head before offering the joint back to you.
âI tend toâŠâ you shrugged, lighting the uneven edge again before taking another drag. âRamble.â
âYou shouldnât apologise for being passionate about something.â
His words settled over the room almost as softly as the evening sunlight pouring through the open window.
âYouâve got this look on your face when you talk about it, you know.â
âWhat look?â You frowned.
âThe same one people get when theyâve found the thing theyâre supposed to do.â
It took a few long seconds for his words to truly settle while all you could do was look at him.
No teacher, no classmate, not even your parents had ever described it that way.
And somehow, hearing it from a man youâd only met that morning made something warm settle quietly in your chest.
The grip you had on the joint faltered ever so slightly as your lips slowly parted.
Before you could think twice about it, you pushed yourself away form the wall and reached up to cradle his face between both hands, gently pulling him into a kiss.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Eddieâs lips were every bit as soft as they looked.
It took him the briefest moment to realise what was happening before his eyes fluttered shut and his head instinctively tilted, deepening the kiss just enough to make your stomach tighten.
One of his ringed hands, warm and calloused, settled naturally against your waist, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over the fabric of your shirt before you slowly pulled away again.
ââŠSorry,â you breathed, slightly out of breath.
Hazy brown eyes searched yours for a quiet moment while his free hand reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
âYou really gotta stop apologising, sweetheart,â he murmured with a chuckle, his gaze drifting briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.
âSorââ
The word died somewhere behind a bashful laugh as your eyes darted anywhere but his face. When you finally looked back at him, he still hadnât moved.
This close, you could make out the crowâs feet fanning gently from the corners of his eyes and the faint smile lines that years of laughter, cigarettes and sunshine had carved into his face. Even the way he smelled was somewhat different now that there was hardly any space left between you â a clean, woodsy scent with something faintly minty lingering beneath the warmth of a sunny afternoon.
Almost distractedly, your tongue swept across your bottom lip before you leaned forwards once more, pressing a lingering peck against his lips.
âWhy tattooing?â you asked quietly as you settled back against your side of the window seat.
Eddieâs hand lingered on your waist for just a second longer before reluctantly slipping away.
âThatâs one hell of a subject change.â He replied with a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
A quiet laugh escaped you when you realised you were about to apologise again before stopping yourself.
âI know.â
He reached for the joint absentmindedly, brushing his fingers against yours for a moment longer than necessary,
âBecause it isnât only about tattooing.â His eyes found yours again after he lit the joint. âItâs about making people feel heard for a couple of hours.â
He shrugged lightly and took a drag before continuing.
âThe inkâs just the excuse they give themselves for walking through the door.â
âThat sounds familiar,â you murmured, gently taking the joint from his fingers.
Eddieâs eyes drifted briefly toward your bent legs before he wrapped a hand around your shins and effortlessly pulled them across his lap.
âI guess thatâs another thing we have in common, huh?â you added with a small smile.
Somewhere across town, the first proper fireworks of the evening split the sky open, their heavy booms rolling across Hawkins until they drifted through the open bedroom window.
Youâd been too distracted by the bursts of colour blooming against the deepening purple sky to notice that Eddie hadnât looked away once.
âWould it be presumptuous of me to assume you donât have anything planned for the rest of the evening?â
An easy laugh escaped you.
âIt would, yes,â you admitted, slowly catching your bottom lip between your teeth as you turned back toward him. âBut youâd also be right.â
âGood.â
The smile that spread across his face was slow and unhurried.
He looked at you through his lashes for a quiet moment before his lips pulled into a smile.Â
âWould it be presumptuous of me to invite myself over to your place?â
Your attention barely lingered on the dying joint as you stubbed what remained of it against the brick windowsill outside before looking back at him.
âI was actually hoping youâd say that.â
His thumb, heavy silver ring catching the last of the evening light, traced slow, absentminded circles just above your ankle while the fireworks continued blooming somewhere beyond the open window.Â
Your eyes drifted past him and landed on the open bedroom door, where the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking bottles still floated up from the backyard.
âWe should probably head back down,â you suggested quietly.
Eddie let out a thoughtful hum.
âProbably.â
Neither of you made any move to leave just yet. His thumb continued tracing slow circles against your ankle while your eyes slowly found his again.
ââŠDefinitely.â
Another few seconds passed before the two of you finally laughed and pushed yourselves off the window seat.
You slipped your sandals back on before turning around to find Eddie leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.
âWhat?â
âJust admiring the view,â he answered lowly.
A quiet chuckle escaped you as you shook your head.
âYou definitely donât know how to flirt.â
âAnd somehow I still got you to kiss me, hm?â
Uncrossing his arms, he reached out and gently pulled you toward him by your waist.
Under the warm glow spilling in from the hallway, his eyes looked closer to amber than the deep brown youâd grown used to over the course of the afternoon.
His gaze wandered painfully slowly down your face before settling on your lips, his tongue absentmindedly sweeping across his own.
Then he leaned down until his lips found yours again.
His fingers tightened ever so slightly against your waist as a quiet, involuntary sound escaped you when his tongue brushed softly against your bottom lip, and for one brief moment the rest of the house disappeared entirely.
âNow we can go downstairs,â he murmured when he finally pulled away.
Eddie stepped back as though he hadnât just turned your already hazy mind into complete mush, only sparing you a grin over his shoulder before making his way toward the staircase.
âYou cominâ, sweetheart?â
The conversations in the backyard hadnât even faltered when the two of you stepped outside again.
Well⊠Almost.
Your mom looked up from her folding chair, her slightly bloodshot eyes moving from you to Eddie and back again while one eyebrow slowly lifted.
The smile threatening to tug at the corners of her mouth was barely contained before she decided to let whatever sheâd noticed slide.
âDid you seriously smoke without offering your own mother a hit?â she asked instead, narrowing her eyes at you before finally giving in to the grin.
âYou were busy,â you shrugged, reaching for her beer and stealing a quick sip.
âWas I now?â
âThereâs more than enough upstairs if you want to roll yourself one.â
By the time your mother had finally worked up the motivation to leave her chair and roll herself a joint, and the first few proper firework bloomed overhead, most of the neighbours had settled into folding chairs scattered across the backyard.
The conversations had quieted, drifting lazily beneath the warm July night while bursts of colour painted the sky overhead every few minutes. Somewhere between the booming fireworks and the shrieks of the neighbourhood children slowly fading as midnight approached, the backyard gradually began to thin out as people responsibly decided theyâd had enough to drink and wandered back home.
It hadnât taken long for your mom to return with a slightly wonky-looking joint between her fingers before settling back into the chair beside your dad, while he and Eddie effortlessly fell back into conversation.
You had quietly started making your way around the backyard, gathering abandoned paper plates in one hand and empty beer bottles in the other.
âLeave it, Pigeon,â your mom called softly from her chair. âWe can do it tomorrow.â
âItâll rain tomorrow,â you replied absentmindedly as you dropped another stack of paper plates into a garbage bag. âBesides, I donât mind.â
Somewhere between politely turning down the joint your mom offered him and your dad deciding to get up and help you, Eddie quietly slipped inside to use the bathroom.
While you held the garbage bag open, your dad tossed in whatever disposable cups, napkins and paper plates heâd come across, the two of you working together in an easy silence that only came from having done this after every barbecue for as long as you could remember.
âYou know, Pigeon,â he started quietly after a while, glancing up at you before pointing toward his nearly white hair, âas you can probably tell⊠I wasnât born yesterday.â
You merely blinked at him before reaching for another abandoned plate.
âAnd Iâm not blind either.â
âDadââ
âIâd be a hypocrite to, I donât knowâŠâ He vaguely gestured over his shoulder. ââŠtell you not to see him.â
âJesus Christ,â you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut for a brief moment as warmth crept steadily up your neck. âI really donât want to have this conversation.â
âMe neither,â he admitted with an awkward chuckle. âGlad we got that sorted.â
His attention drifted toward the screen door just as the faint sound of the downstairs bathroom door opening echoed through the house, followed by the familiar weight of heavy footsteps making their way back outside.
âListen, Iâm just sayingâŠâ He rubbed the back of his neck. âIf you wanna go withââ
âDad.â
âYep. Iâm done talking.â
He clapped his hands together once before plucking the garbage bag from your grip. Turning on his heel, he made his way toward the large bin just outside the fence gate, leaving you standing in the middle of the backyard with burning cheeks and absolutely no desire to think about the conversation youâd just had.
The backyard had grown quiet by the time the very last neighbours wandered â more like stumbled â home, offering lazy waves and promises to see one another before the next barbecue.
Your mom stretched with a content groan as she pushed herself out of her folding chair, gathering the last few empty bottles with her joint carefully balanced between two fingers, while your dad carried the final cooler back towards the garage.
Eddie stepped back into the backyard and held the screen door open for your mom before making his way over to where you stood.
âSoâŠâ he started, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. âYou still serious about inviting yourself over?â
The way he stood awkwardly in front of you â absentmindedly rubbing at his neck while looking at you with an expression that betrayed far more nerves than heâd probably care to admit â pulled a small smile onto your lips.
It was surprisingly easy to forget the age difference when he looked at you like that.
âIf Iâm still allowed to be presumptuous.â
âAlways.â
Silence settled comfortably between the two of you while your eyes drifted somewhere over his shoulder.
Your dad had apparently taken the long route back inside through the front door and now stood in the kitchen beside your mom, and had his back turned towards the backyard.
Mostly.
Every now ant then, heâd steal a quick glance over his shoulder while pretending to be far more invested in the conversation he was supposedly having with your mom.
A quiet sigh escaped you.
âCan we get out of here before my dad tries to talk to me again?â
Eddie followed your gaze towards the open kitchen windows.
âDid he say something?â
The question came so casually that you almost answered it. But instead, your eyes squeezed shut for the briefest moment.
âPlease donât ask.â
âThat bad?â A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
âYou really donât wanna know.â
âOh, but now Iâm invested.â
Before you had the chance to explain that no, he really didnât, your mom reappeared in the screen doorway and leaned casually against the frame behind it. Her eyes wandered from you to Eddie and back again while she absentmindedly patted her pockets in search of her lighter.
âTake your keys,â she mumbled around the joint tucked between her lips before finally lighting it and taking a slow drag. âYouâre too old to be sneaking in.â
A horrified groan escaped you.
âMom.â
âYouâre complaining like Iâm not a cool mom or something,â she laughed, completely unfazed by the look you shot her as you brushed past.
âRight now?â you muttered while disappearing into the kitchen. âYou damn straight you arenât.â
Your keys were still sitting exactly where you had dropped them that morning.
By the time you stepped back outside, Eddie had pressed his lips together so tightly they had almost disappeared, and the warning finger you pointed at him did absolutely nothing to help.
âDonât.â
His shoulder bounced ever so slightly, while a reluctant laugh escaped you despite your best efforts as you guided him towards the fence gate. By the time the two of you stepped out into the quiet street, your parents had already disappeared upstairs for the night, leaving only the warm porch light glowing beside the screen door.
The walk to Eddieâs truck passed in an easy silence â the kind that settled naturally after spending an entire day talking.
He unlocked the passenger door for you before making his way around to the driverâs side, and it wasnât until heâd pulled away from the curb that the two of you finally looked at each other.
Neither of you said a word for a moment. Then, almost simultaneously, the memory of your motherâs comment caught up with you. The first laugh escaped Eddie, while yours followed a heartbeat later.
Within seconds, the cab of the old Ford filled with the kind of helpless giggles that only came after an exhausting â but undeniably wonderful â day.
âSheâs unbelievable sometimes.â
âYour mom really doesnât have a filter, huh?â
He glanced over at you, his grin softening as he brought the truck to an easy stop at a red light.
Your own smile lingered with the familiar streets of Hawkins rolled quietly past outside, the last few fireworks still blooming overhead as Eddie shifted the gears once the light turned green and turned onto the road leading towards downtown.
There was little movement left at that hour and even less sound, save for the occasional firework rumbling somewhere in the distance.
The warm glow spilling from inside one of the storefronts caught your attention long before Eddie slowed the truck to a stop. The neon sign above the tattoo studio had been switched off for the day, but a lamp somewhere inside still cast a welcoming light through the front windows. Through the glass, you could make out framed flash sheets and posters covering the walls, the familiar outlines of tattoo chairs sitting further back in the room.
Eddie switched off the ignition before turning towards you.
âThis is me,â he said quietly, gesturing towards the apartment above the studio.
âMust be nice,â a small smile tugged at your lips as you followed his finger, ânever being late to work.â
A laugh rumbled from his chest as the click of your seatbelt echoed through the cab. âYouâd be surprised how often Iâm late.â
âEddie.â Your eyebrows lifted as you turned towards him.
âHow would they know I wasnât upstairs finishing someoneâs design?â he replied with a grin as he pushed open his door.
The heavy door of the old Ford creaked far louder than either of you wouldâve liked as he walked around to open yours, though neither of you paid it much mind â compared to the occasional boom of fireworks still echoing somewhere over Hawkins, it barely made any sound at all.
Eddie pushed the passenger door shut behind you with one hand while digging through the front pocket of his short for his keys.
The warmth of his palm settled against the small of your back as he guided you towards the unassuming door tucked beside the storefront window, its surface covered in layers of old stickers and faded spray painted tags.
The lock gave way with a quiet click before he nudged the door open with his foot and gently tugged you inside by your wrist. After pushing it shut behind the two of you, he shot you a quick glance over his shoulder as he led you up the steep staircase.
Neither of you made any attempt to fill the comfortable silence by the time you reached the top. The moment Eddie stepped into the narrow hallway leading towards the living room, he crouched down to loosen up the laces of his boots before straightening again and flicking on the lights.
And suddenly, the apartment was there â like it had been ripped straight out metalhead magazine.
The polished wooden floors carried a dark lacquer that caught the warm light overhead, while the walls had been painted a deep shade of grey that border on charcoal and decorated with framed vintage band posters. It wasnât overly tidy, but it wasnât messy either.
Just⊠extremely Eddie.
Your eyes wandered curiously around the living room as you stepped farther inside.
Eddie lingered in the doorway leading to what looked like the kitchen, his lips pursed slightly as his gaze quietly followed you taking everything in.
âYou, uhâŠâ He scratched at his beard. âYou want something to drink?â
Your tongue swept across your bottom lip as you slowly approached the leather couch, your fingertips trailing absentmindedly along the backrest.
âAre you nervous?â you asked gently instead of answering.
A quiet, awkward chuckle escaped him.
âKinda, yeah,â he admitted with a bashful smile. âItâs, uh⊠been a while.â
Your gaze lingered on his face for another moment.
The thin silver hoop through his nostril caught the warm light overhead, and his salt-and-pepper curls had become just frizzy enough throughout the day that they felt impossibly soft beneath your fingers as your hand found the back of his neck.
Had it not been for the genuine uncertainty and awkwardness swimming in his brown eyes, it wouldâve been impossible to believe what heâd just said.
Not when he looked like that. Like he had just stepped out of a fucking Lana Del Rey music video.
âItâs okay,â you whispered, your nails lightly scratching at the curls near the nape of his neck. âItâs been a while for me too.â
The nervous glimmer in his eyes slowly melted into something closer to disbelief as his hands settled more firmly against your hips, gently drawing you closer.
âBullshit,â he snorted, fingertips pressing playfully into your sides. âYouâre way too smart and ridiculously beautiful.â His eyes wandered across your face. âNo way you donât have an entire fucking queue of men begging for your attention.â
A bashful laugh escaped you.
âYeah, wellâŠâ You shrugged lightly. âNew Yorkâs full of douchebags who think playing Hey There Delilah on an acoustic guitar is the secret to get girls to hop on their dicks.â
âHey There Delilah?â Eddieâs eyebrows shot upwards. âSeriously?â
âEither that or Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls.â You rolled your eyes. âAnd believe me, neither of them sound particularly romantic in that annoying Dave Mustaine kind of twang.â
âHey, now,â he said, lowering his voice. âNo Dave Mustaine slander in my home.â
A grin slowly tugged at the corner of your mouth.
âOr what?â
The faint ticking of a clock somewhere deeper in the apartment settled between the two of you while Eddie simply looked at you.
Long enough for three cars to pass somewhere out on the street below.
Of all the shit youâd thrown his way throughout the day, surely this wasnât going to be the thing that finally made him reconsider inviting you over.
A startled shriek escaped you when he suddenly swept you off your feet and effortlessly threw you over one shoulder.
âIâm getting real tired of that fucking mouth of yours,â he muttered, unable to hide the laugh threatening to break through his voice as he carried you out of the living room and back towards the hallway.
While the view of his ass was admittedly nice, it also meant you had absolutely no idea where he was taking you.
The dull thud of his foot against a door echoed through the apartment before old hinges creaked in protest, followed by the faint rustling of fabric somewhere in the darkness as Eddie stepped inside the pitch-black room.
Finally pulling you off his shoulder, another wave of shriek-induced giggles escaped you when your back met a surprisingly soft mattress, the old springs dipping beneath your weight.
For a brief moment, all you could make out was Eddieâs silhouette standing over you, tall frame and broad shoulders, barely outlined by the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtain.
Your heart stumbled over itself when the faint outline of his body disappeared around the other side of the bed before he reached for the lamp on the nightstand.
There was something inherently unfair about the way the warm amber light settled across his face when he looked back at you, turning his eyes into something closer to honey than brown.
You couldnât remember who moved first. One second you were still leaning back on your elbows, and the next Eddie was straddling your lap, both hands buried in your hair while your mouth instinctively parted for his.
He kissed you slowly at first, like he wasnât feeling the same desperate drop in his stomach that had just swept through yours. Then, the moment your barely contained sigh reached his ears, the kiss deepened.
He tasted faintly of the last beer heâd had hours earlier, and it only made your head spin faster when his familiar, comforting scent settled around you. One hand slid to the back of your neck, the heavy silver rings scratching lightly against your scalp while the other cradled your cheek as though you were something impossibly delicate.
This wasnât anything like the kiss youâd shared back in your childhood bedroom â not even close.
He kissed you like a starving man. Teeth brushed against teeth, his tongue met yours with an urgency that stole the air from your lungs, and his fingers tightened gently around the strands of your hair before giving them an experimental hard tug.
âYouâre gonna be the death of me,â he murmured, his voice rough as he slowly pulled back just enough to look at you.
A dry lump settled in your throat beneath the weight of his gaze, and swallowing around it became nearly impossible when his hands drifted from the back of your neck to the curve of your waist.
âI mean⊠That fucking bikini?â A quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle escaped him as he pushed a few loose curls away from his face, holding them back for a moment while he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. One corner of his mouth twitched upwards. âTeasing me like that all day was fucking unfair.â
The slightly nervous, awkward man from just minutes ago had disappeared, his voice lowering into something quieter, more confident â and just a little condescending.
Eddie was the first to lose his shirt, tugging the dark fabric over his head and making his curls bounce free in the process.
âFuck.â
The word slipped from your mouth before you had the chance to stop it.
The loose-fitting shirt heâd worn all day hadnât done his body any justice. He was built in that particular way that wasnât overly muscular, but just enough for the ink stretched across his skin to move with every shift of his shoulders and every steady breath he took.
Your eyes couldnât decide where to settle â on the large neo-traditional Saint George slaying the dragon spread across his stomach, on the mirrored goats framing the saint, or on the blacked-out star that had replaced his left nipple.
Warm fingertips gently harshly into your cheeks finally pulled your gaze away from the artwork scattered across his chest and back, forcing your eyes to meet Eddieâs once again.
A knowing smile had already settled across his lips by the time you looked up.
âIf you could only see yourself right now, sweetheart,â he chuckled, giving your cheek a couple of light, teasing taps. âLooking all dumb and drunkâŠâ His grin widened ever so slightly. ââŠAnd I havenât even done anything yet.â
Eddieâs expression softened just enough as he lowered his voice.
âYou tell me if I start doing something you donât like, yeah?â
You merely blinked up at him for a few long seconds, your mind too busy trying to catch up with everything he was making you feel to form a coherent thought. Eventually, you gave him a small, stiff nod, his fingers still gently pressing into your cheeks.
âWords, sweetheart.â
A quiet groan escaped you.
âYes, Eddie.â
His eyes lingered on your face for another moment, quietly searching for any signs of hesitation or discomfort before he finally let go of your cheeks when he found none. The bed creaked beneath the two of you as Eddie pushed himself off your lap and stepped to the foot of the bed instead.
The loss of his weight and the overwhelming warmth of his presence was immediate. Apparently, you werenât the only one who noticed the way your eyebrows had drawn together ever so slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping him as he slowly peeled off his shorts, his eyes never once leaving your face.
You couldnât help the way your gaze wandered lower with every new inch he revealed.
He really was a walking piece of art. A faint trail of dark hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers, different tattoo styles stretched across his legs, and scattered freckles and little moles interrupted the ink here and there, making him feel all the more real beneath the artwork.
And then your eyes trailed back up, stopping right at the ridiculous volume heâd been packing underneath his clothes.
The heavy denim hit the floor with a dull thud before Eddie made his way around the bed once more. He gave your cheek another three gentle taps before helping you to sit up, only to step in behind you a moment later. The mattress dipped softly beneath his weight as he settled against the headboard, drawing you back with him until his bare chest rested flush against your back.
âThe first thing Iâm gonna do,â he murmured absentmindedly, his hands settling around your thighs as his thumbs alternated between slow strokes and gentle squeezes, âis take a good, long look at whatever youâve been hiding from me underneath that shirt.â
His fingertips gradually wandered higher until they found the hem of the oversized fabric.
âThen,â he continued, his voice dropping another notch as he slowly began gathering the fabric in his hand, âwhen Iâm done teasing youâŠâ The shirt slid painfully slowly up your frame. âIâm gonna do what Iâve been wanting to do all fucking day.â
One hand left your waist and slowly travelled upwards until it settled against your cheek, gently turning your face towards the full-length mirror standing against the opposite wall.
It had been hidden behind his frame when heâd stood at the foot of the bed, but now there was nothing shielding your reflection from view.
Eddie rested his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing featherlight kisses along your skin while the hand curled around the hem of your shirt continued slowly pulling the fabric higher. Only when the fabric reached your shoulders did he finally have to lean back from you, lifting it the rest of the way over your head. The oversized shirt fell to the ground without either of you paying much attention to it.
His warm hands trailed your arms as the two of you looked at your reflections in the mirror.
Your breath, already quick and shallow, hitched as Eddie leaned to kiss the crook of your neck. His lips left intense and tingling kisses in their trail, and it felt like his dark eyes, transfixed on the way your ribs expanded as you fought for air, bore holes in you.
âJesus, sweetheart,â he mumbled against your neck. He propped his chin on your shoulder, leaning forwards and flickered his gaze down to your breasts, warm fingers trailing to meet the spot where his gaze had been fixed. âTheyâre even better than Iâd imagined.â
Your fingers were tearing all the loose skin around your nails and your throat went dry when Eddieâs hands cupped your breasts. Four of his ringed fingers found the underside of your boobs, while his thumb traced soft circles right above your nipples.
When Eddie felt your face angling to meet his eyes, he immediately curled his thumb and forefinger around your nipples, tugging hard to get your attention.
âEyes on the mirror.â
The hard squeezes he gave you only made your back arch away from his chest, which was apparently something else he wasnât satisfied with; he put more pressure on your breasts, not only on the fingers around your nipples, but to pull you back flush against his chest.
âF-fuck.â
You blinked, taken aback by the way Eddie was playing with your chest. The warmth of his fingers and the harsh tugs sent a thrill down your spine. The world narrowed to the press of his chest against your back, the way he touched you, the slide of his lips against your neck.
Eddieâs fingers rolled your nipples, relishing the way you kept arching away from him only for him to pull you back twice as hard. His dark eyes found the mirror again, and the reflection showed him everything â the parted sheen of your lips, the feverish glaze of arousal in your eyes. It was dizzying, intoxicating even, and heâd decided then and there that he could watch you come undone like this forever.
âM-more,â you whimpered. âPlease.â
A condescending chuckle escaped Eddie at your request. He increased the pressure, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples until youâre choking on your own breath and writhing against him.
He kept drinking in the sight of you, desperate for more. Reverently, he covered you with his hands once more, thumbs circling your nipples before he ducked to suck the spot right beneath your ear. The hot suction made you cry out, fingers reaching out to tangle in his greying curls to hold him closer. Teeth grazed lightly before soothing with flicks of his tongue.
The way youâd started to rock your hips against the bed hadnât gone unnoticed by him â not when the small of your back hit his erection every time you ground back and forth.
âYouâre so responsive,â he praised huskily, trailing biting kisses across your neck and shoulder. âGonna make you fall apart.â
The wicked promise sent a fresh wave of heat flooding your veins. You could only nod frantically, surrendering yourself to whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you.
When a broken whimper escaped you, Eddie gentled his touch, caressing your trembling form with soothing strokes. He let go of one of your breasts and cradled your face in his hand. He pressed tender kisses to your temple, to your cheekbone, to the corner of your mouth. He traced the delicate line of your jaw, the graceful column of your throat, marvelling at the power he wielded over you.
He let go of your face, not without turning you back towards the mirror, and trailed his hand down your abdomen, dipping just below the waistband of your shortsâ
Only to immediately retreat with a teasing nip at your belly.
You feel his lips, still resting against the side of your cheek, pull into a smirk when another broken whimper escaped you.
Eddie flickered his eyes up to meet your through the mirror. He drank in the sight of you drunk and desperate in his hold. With deliberate slowness, he hooked his free hand in your waistband, dragging the elastic just low enough for him to find a thin lined tattoo that had been hidden under your bikini all day â he couldnât read what it said from where he sat, but heâd find out soon enough.
âP-please.â
âPlease what, sweetheart?â he purred, trailing his hand lower until his fingers were met your drenched folds. He slowly circled your aching clit, watching your body bow off the mattress with dark eyes. âThis?â
âE-Eddieââ
âOr maybe this?â
Without warning, he plunged two thick digits inside you, pumping steadily as his palm ground against your swollen clit. Your shattered moan was music to his ears, spurring him on. He worked you mercilessly, curling and stroking your inner walls until youâre writhing mindlessly, chasing the feeling.
Eddie abruptly withdrew his fingers, leaving you bereft and whimpering. He caught your pleading gaze through the mirror, a wicked glimmer dancing in his dark eyes.
âIâm not done teasing you, sweetheart.â He sucked harshly at your throat, sinking his teeth in the skin before smoothing it out with his tongue.
His calloused hand mapped the contours of your body, cupping and teasing until you were all but a puddle on his bed. Deft fingers plucked at your nipples, rolling and tugging until the sting blended into electric pleasure.
And then his touch is nowhere to be felt â not his hands on your breasts, his plush lips against your neck, or even his warm chest against your back.
Standing up from behind you, he guided you until you were perched on the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the mattress. He knelt before you, the heat of his gaze searing as he slowly pulled your shorts down your thighs, inch by torturous inch until you were bare in front of his eyes. Your breath came even shallower and faster, skin prickling with anticipation.
Eddie froze at the sight of your tattoo, his eyes darkening and his lips pulling slowly into a smirk.
âValentine, huh?â
He sat back on his heels, running a hand through his tousled hair. His gaze darted between your face and the ink marring your skin. Slowly, he reached out to trace the still-healing letters with the tip of his finger, watching your skin jump and quiver under his touch.
When he lifted his eyes to meet yours, the look in them is dizzying. His ringed fingers danced higher, teasing the creases of your thighs. He parted your legs with a practiced touch, exposing you fully to him.
The first swipe of his tongue is electric, drawing a broken moan from your lips. He growled low in approval, doubling his effort until you were trembling and whimpering helplessly.
It was one thing when boys eat you out, but this?
Eddie acting like he was hungry, making out with your pussy?
Jesus fucking Christ.
Dark grey curls tickled the insides of your thighs as pressed his face harder against your slick folds, nose bumping against your swollen clit and tongue circling your leaking slit.
With one final, devastating lick, Eddie pulled back, leaving you gasping and desperate. His dark eyes bores into yours through his lashes as he issues a husky directive.
âKeep those pretty eyes on yourself.â
He hooked one trembling leg over his broad shoulder, spreading you wider. Cool air met your dripping core, followed by the hot rasp of Eddieâs tongue painting your slit. Your reflection was debauched perfection â hair mussed, the thinnest layer of sweat covering your forehead, lips parted on breathy cries.
Just as you crested the peak, teetering on the knifeâs edge, Eddie retreated once again. Denial clawed viciously at your insides. He grinned at your anguished whimper, clearly relishing in the control he held over your pleasure. Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, pupils blown wide with need. Eddie drank in the sight, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he prepared to drive you wild once more.
Then, without taking his rings off, he pushed two fingers in your dripping pussy, pumping steadily as he leaned back down to suck at your clit. He maintained his punishing pace, alternating between deep, probing thrusts and fluttering licks that made you see stars.
âF-fuck. Ed-Eddie!â
The coil wound tighter with each pass of his tongue, with each hard, curling thrust of his fingers, until you writhed shamelessly, reduced to garbled curses and pleading whimpers of something that vaguely resembled his name.
Ecstasy crashed over you in dizzying waves, every nerve ending alight with bliss. Eddie worked you through it, wringing out every last shudder and aftershock until you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress.
You watched through hooded eyes as he rose, stalking towards you with a shiny lips pulled into a knowing, cocky smirk and a glint in his eyes.
His knees made a faint cracking sound as he climbed up the bed. With tender care, Eddie gently pulled you upright, gathering your limp form into his arms. He claimed your mouth in a deep, searing kiss, swallowing your dazed whimpers at the taste of your own release.
You clung to him, moulding your arms around his neck as his tongue brushed against yours. He guided you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. The solid heat of him grounded you even as residual tremors wracked your frame. Calloused fingers trailed reverently over your sweat-slick skin, mapping every dip and swell.
âThatâs it, sweetheart,â he whispered when he pulled away from your lips, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. âJust breathe.â
Eddie continued cradling you close, murmuring soft reassurances. His wandering hand slipped lower, deft fingers pushing his boxers down just enough to free his straining length. You felt the swollen tip notch against your slit, poised to claim you fully.
âGonna fill you up now, sweetheart,â he rasped, voice gravelly with need.
His other hand still held the back of your head, pushing you down to keep you in the crook of his neck while he pushed himself deeper and deeper, until he sheathed himself to the hilt.
âEdâ Mhmm!â Your cry is muffled against his sweat-dampened skin as he started to move, rolling and grinding until you were a boneless, pliant thing in his arms. His hand roamed restlessly, mapping every hidden place that made you gasp and writhe until reaching your ass, pulling you harder against him.
âKeep looking in the mirror fâme, weetheart.â
The filthy visual drove you wild â tangled limbs, sweat-slicked and tattooed back, the depraved picture the two of you painted together. Eddieâs murmured command urged you on, hips moving in filthy counterpoint to his steady thrusts.
âF-fuck. Just like that,â he groaned approvingly, fingers digging bruises into the globe of your ass.
He moved faster, harder, grinding deep until you were sobbing wordlessly. Distantly, you registered the crude slap of skin on skin, the lewd squelch of his cock working in your sopping cunt. Tension coiled tight and taut, winding higher with each precise hit against that delicious, hidden spot. You were so close again, watered eyes staring back at the ridiculous way Eddie had your eyebrows pulled together and your teeth sunk in his shoulder.
You convulsed in his arms, wailing your release to the ceiling. He worked you through it ruthlessly, wringing every last drop until you collapsed limply against his tattooed chest, utterly spent.
Eddie, not being a complete monster, gave you a brief moment to catch your breath before gently pushing you onto your back. He positioned himself between your spread thighs, looping one leg high up over his hip. The new angle allowed him to sink impossibly deeper, stretching you deliciously.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful like this,â he groaned out as he gave you a hard thrust. âCrying as I fuck you stupid.â
His intense gaze locked with yours, dark with hunger and devotion. Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew until just his tip remained nestled inside your slick walls. Gripping your thigh, he rolled his hips in a slow, sensual grind, until he had you arching into his touch.
âP-please, Eddie,â you whimpered.
Eddieâs eyes gleamed with delight at your breathy plea. He maintained his torturously slow rhythm, leaning down to capture your nipple in his teeth, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth. He soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue before switching to the neglected nipple, lavishing it with the same devoted attention.
âHm? You want more?â Eddie rumbled, voice dripping in sin. âFuck. You feel so fucking good.â
He straightened up, hands gripping your raised thigh as he powered into you with deep, jarring strokes. The change in pace had you seeing stars, inner walls clamping down desperately. Eddie set a brutal pace, grunting with effort, determined to unravel you one more time before he even considered letting himself come.
Eddieâs calloused finger found your swollen clit, circling maddeningly as he pounded into you. Electric shocks of pleasure radiated outward as he varied his technique â brushing feather-light, flicking firmly, rubbing in maddening figure-eights until youâre writhing beneath him, incoherent with need.
âCâmon, pretty girl,â he groaned out, eyebrows knitted together as he stared at the salty tears rolling down the sides of your face. âJust one more, thatâs it.â
Another finger joined the fray, plunging deep in tandem with his thrusts. The dual stimulation proved too much, and your orgasm barrelled through you like a freight train, stealing the breath from your lungs.
Eddieâs eyes widened as your release gushed forth, wetting the base of his cock and the lowest part of his stomach.
âF-fuck,â he groaned, momentarily stunned by the sight of you squirting over him. âSo beautiful when you let go fâme.â
He didnât relent, continuing to pump into your spasming heat. Overstimulation warred with reluctant pleasure, keeping you suspended on a razorâs edge. Eddieâs grip tightened, anchoring you as he ground deeper, working you through the overwhelming waves of your orgasm.
âIâm almost there, sweetheart.â He placed an open-mouthed kiss at the side of your neck as he quickened his pace, desperate for his own release. âIâ Fuckfuckfuck.â
Your spasming walls milked his cock mercilessly. With a guttural groan, he hilted deep, painting the insides of your pussy in thick, milky ropes of cum.
Wave after wave crashed over the both of you, seemingly endless. Through it all, he kept your trembling form anchored, murmuring praises into the sweaty crook of your neck.
âGood girl, took me so well.â Eddie placed a lingering kiss against your throat.
Eddie held himself up, gazing down at you with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide with satisfaction, damp grey curls clinging to his eyebrow. A fine sheen of perspiration glistened on his sculpted torso, highlighting every ridge, valley and detail of his tattoos.
âYouâre fucking incredible,â he whispered.
âIâve neverââ You gulped down, licking your lips as your eyes trailed down to the base of his cock. âNot with somebody else, I mean.â
Eddie followed your gaze to the few translucent beads decorating his happy trail, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He reached down, swiping a finger through the slick trail, bringing it to your lips for a taste.
The gesture made a whole new wave of heat spread across your face. Hazy with the aftermath, your lips instinctively parted further, while Eddie hummed at the sight of you sucking his finger.
A broken moan spilled from your lips as Eddie slowly pulled out. The loss of the fullness left you aching, empty in a way that bordered on painful with your muscles fluttering weakly in protest, seeking to draw him back in.
Eddie pressed soothing kisses to your dampened temple. Carefully, he arranged you atop the tangled sheets, cradling your spent body flush against his larger frame. One hand drifted low to gently clean his leaking cum while your fingertips traced the bold lines on his stomach.
âDidnât take youââ You cut yourself off with a broken hiss when Eddieâs fingers thrusted back into your pussy. âF-for the rel-religious type.â
âIâm not,â he chuckled â whether it was at your comment or on the way youâd reacted at the intrusion, you didnât know. âJust have a thing for dragons.â
His deft fingers continued their shallow thrusts, coaxing forth fresh waves of sensations.
âWhat about that Valentine tattoo of yours?â he urged, voice low and enticing as he ignored the strangled whimpers spilling from your lips. The pad of his thumb found your swollen clit, circling with maddening slowness. âTell me about it.â
âJ-just thought itâd be hot.â You gulped down at the sight of Eddieâs lips stretching into a grin. âSomeone reading it if they wentââ
Eddieâs grin widened at the confession. His free hand traced idle patterns across your skin, while the other continued abusing your overly sensitive pussy.
âP-please, Eddie,â you begged. âI c-canât.â
âJust one more?â he whispered back, biting his bottom lip. âPlease, sweetheart.â
His eyes had softened at the broken sounds spilling from your lips, but there was no mercy in them. The answer you gave him, another broken whimper, was punctuated with a curl of calloused fingers, grazing that deep spot.
Your spine arched helplessly, mouth falling open on a silent scream as new tears rolled down the sides of your face. Through the haze of overstimulation, Eddieâs face came into focus above you, awash with smug satisfaction.
âThatâs it, sweetheart. Just one more, thatâs it.â
âEddie!â
He gathered you tenderly into his arms as you shuddered through the aftershocks, ragged breaths mingling with your whispered name.
âAtta girl,â he murmured approvingly, stroking damp strands of hair from your eyebrow. âYouâre so beautiful when you come for me.â
You felt absolutely boneless in his embrace, barely incapable of pushing his hand away when he gave your clit one last, teasing, flick. Eddieâs fingers mapped soothing circles across your back, gentling you from the high.
âI could really use that drink now,â you mumbled tiredly against his chest.
A quiet chuckle rumbled beneath your cheek. âI had a feeling youâd say that.â
Eddie shifted carefully beneath you before easing you back onto the mattress. The bed dipped as he climbed off, pausing only long enough to brush a few strands away from your face before disappearing through the bedroom door.
The room fell strangely quiet without his presence. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the old floorboards creak beneath his footsteps somewhere down the hall while the occasional boom of another firework echoed faintly through the open bedroom window.
The corner of your mouth tugged upwards before you could stop it.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Youâd left New York that morning convinced you were coming home for nothing more than a quiet summer with your parents. Instead, youâd somehow ended up in the apartment of the ridiculously handsome tattoo artist youâd met at ten-something in the morning.
Eddie reappeared in the doorway carrying two empty glasses in one hand, a bottle of water tucked underneath his arm and a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers.
âThere she is,â he smiled when he found you exactly where heâd left you. âDidnât know which one youâd want.â
âWater, please.â
He crossed the room and handed you the bottle before settling back onto the mattress beside you, balancing a on one thigh while he poured himself a generous splash.
The water was almost painfully cold against your dry throat. You hadnât realised just how thirsty you were until nearly half the bottle disappeared in one go.
âDamn,â Eddie chuckled, watching you lower the bottle. âYou werenât kidding.â
A sheepish smile tugged at your lips as you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth.
The room settled into another comfortable silence. Outside, another firework bloomed over Hawkins, briefly washing the bedroom in flashes of red and gold before fading back into the warm amber glow of the bedside lamp.
Eddie rested against the headboard, his shoulders brushing yours as he lazily turned the whiskey around in his glass.
âSoâŠâ he said after a while.
âSo...â
A teasing smile spread across his face. âI think your mom likes me.â
That pulled a laugh from you loud enough to echo around the bedroom.
âObviously. Youâre her friend.â
âYou know thatâs not what I meant.â He tilted his head.
âYeah, well.â You shrugged, taking another sip of water. âSheâs probably thinking youâll tattoo her for free now, since you fucked her daughters brains out and all that.â
Eddie barked out a laugh, nearly spilling his whiskey.
âI knew there was a catch.â
âThere always is.â
He looked at you for a moment, the grin lingering on his face. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass for another second before speaking again.
âWhatâs yours?â
âMy what?â You frowned. âMy catch?â
âThereâs gotta be one, right?â He took a slow sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the nightstand. âBecause a girl your age, pretty and smart and funny, doesnât just sleep with someone my age after meeting, what? Fifteen, sixteen hours ago?â
You looked at him for a long moment, the crease between your eyebrows deepening the longer you held his gaze.
âThatâs not fair.â You ignored the confusion that flickered across his face, and turned to set your water bottle on the nightstand before reaching for your discarded shirt. âNot to me, and not to you either.â
âSweetheart, wait.â His voice lost every trace of teasing. Before you could pull the shirt over your head, his hand found your wrist, not enough to stop you by force, only to make you pause. âI didnât meanâŠâ
He sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
âI wasnât trying to put words in your mouth.â His eyes searched for yours as he let out a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh. âI guess I still have a hard time believing someone like you would look at someone like me and think, Yeah thatâll do.â
âI didnât come home with you because youâre some hot, older tattoo artist.â
He stayed quiet, and you could almost see him trying to work out what you were going to say next.
Your eyes drifted away for a moment, replaying the day in your head. The beers heâd quietly kept replacing before youâd even realised yours was empty. The way heâd helped your dad with the grill without being asked. The way heâd sat beside you in your childhood bedroom, genuinely listening while you rambled his ear off about art therapy.
âYou looked at me all day like I was someone worth getting to know.â A small smile found your lips, and you slipped your fingers around his. âYou actually listened when I started rambling.â
A soft scoff escaped you, followed by easy chuckles as your eyes trailed him up and down.
âThe tattoos are nice, and the curls definitely helped too.â Your expression softened. âBut I came home with the man who made me feel like the most interesting person in every room we walked into today.â
Your eyes drifted down to the floor, finding his black shirt lying forgotten close to where yours had been. Without saying a word, you tossed yours back down next to it and reached for his instead.
Neither of you felt any need to fill the silence while you slipped your arms through the sleeves, the fabric hanging far too large on your frame and carrying the faint scent of sandalwood and mint, cigarettes and whatever laundry detergent he used.
When you turned back around, you found Eddie staring at nothing in particular, absentmindedly worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
âHey.â
His dark brown eyes lifted immediately.
âCâmere,â you whispered.
You eased yourself back onto the mattress before shuffling closer and gently tugging at his arm until he followed, settling onto his side to face you.
His hand found your waist almost instinctively while yours came to cradle his jaw, your thumb lazily tracing circles along the stubble covering his cheek.
âDo you work tomorrow?â
He shook his head. âStudioâs closed on Sundays.â
âGood.â A small smile found your lips. âI want a private tour. After you make me breakfast.â
âOh, wow.â The grin that spread across his face was slow enough to make your own grow wider. âDemanding, are we?â
Pairing: Hubby!Nanami x Black!Pregnant Wifey!Reader
Synopsis: Your husband Nanami, hardworking salesman and breadwinner, has always appeared very straight-laced and a "no funny business" type of man. You think you know everything to know about your husband until one day when you're being a good housewife and end up discovering his sexy secret while doing his laundry. Lucky for you, you take your role as a wife very seriously. So what better way to explore your husband's fetish than become his pin-up fantasy?!
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Curse/1960s AU; Married Couple; Salesman!Nanami x Housewife!Reader; Pin-Up Girl Fetish; Dom!Nanami x sub!Reader; Service Kink; Ass Worship; Spanking; Pussy Spanks; Doggystyle; Fucking on the Dinner Table; Pussy-Eating; Deepthroat; Throatpie; Raw Creampie; Breeding; Pregnancy; Some Body Insecurity; Daddy Kink; Mild Foot Worship; Aftercare
Word Count: 6k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!Â
Writer's Note: HAPPY BELATED TO MY MAN!!! I wanted so badly to get this out on Nanami's b-day, but that week got so busy that I could only manage this b-day month! I hope I'm not too late & y'all will still like it đ„șđ„ș This is also based off of this hot ass fanart by @hunnismokah that I've seen goin round đđ hope you enjoy!! -love, Jazz
Credits: Dividers made by @pxrce-lain!
Nanami is truly the best husband a gal like you could've ever asked for.Â
He is as sweet as he is handsome. He cooks. He cleans. He goes to work to bring home money to care for you and build your family. He is attentive and loving; considerate and understanding. He listens to you.Â
You need new clothes? He's taking you out to the cutest boutiques to buy you dresses.
You need groceries? He's writing a list, checking it twice, and going to the market after work so you can rest your pretty feet.Â
You want breakfast? The man would get up at the ass crack dawn to pluck eggs from a hen's nest and squeeze fresh oranges for your orange juice for you.Â
You want to stay in and make love all weekend? Say no more. Nanami is a fantastic lover as he is a husband. He will not rest until you are supremely satisfied, a smile on your pretty face between the sweat-soaked sheets and your skin peppered in kisses.Â
Nanami proves time and time again that his top priority is you, the woman he married and the soon-to-be mother of his unborn childâŠeventually. You havenât gotten to that part yet, but you know that Nanami would be a fantastic father as he is a husband. He is already saving money working long hours as a salesman for your future family in addition to putting it all aside just for you, his pretty wife.Â
You thought you knew everything there was to know about your straight-laced, quiet husband...until you realize that you don't and you probably never really did.Â
This realization comes one particularly hot summer evening when Nanami arrives home from work. His job as a traveling salesman is annoying enough, but traveling back and forth in his car in the sweltering summerâs heat and forced to come back to his hotbox of an office to write reports and type his fingers off?Â
But it is all worth it to come straight home to you, his beautiful wife and the soon-to-be mother of his future child. He would work every day from dawn to dusk to save up enough money for your future bakery and to care for his unborn daughter/son. Anything to make you happy and to ensure the wellbeing of his little family.Â
He was debating whether to tell his boss to go fuck himself and escape to his car just to see you, maybe sweep you off to some distant island complete with endless piña coladas and orgasms that heâd give you, but he remembered why he has this stupid salesman job to begin with (for you, of course) and endured the sweltering heat.Â
But itâs nice to finally come home from a long work day with an entire weekend to spend with you alone. Nanami is quick to pull into his driveway and drag his tired, muscular body to his cozy, white picket-fenced house on his clean-cut lawn dewy from you watering the flowers earlier. He sighs as he unlocks the door, instantly hit with the coolness of the air-conditioning to soothe his sweat-soaked collar.Â
He lowers his brief case, tosses his car keys to the side, and loosens his tie as he shuts the door. Finally. âHoney?â he calls. âIâm home.âÂ
The living room is spotlessâfluffed pillows, polished floors, and dusted furniture. You were a busy bee today, even while pregnant. You can never slow yourself down, convinced that your job is to be a âgood little housewifeâ, so Nanami often has to force you. âIn the kitchen, sweetie!â you call. âJust give me a second!âÂ
He hears the sounds of your records playing and your humming along with the tempting aroma of roasted chicken, herbs, and spices. He thinks he catches the hint of honey and butter in the air too which means youâre baking your famous dinner rolls. He feels his stomach grumble, glad to have a home-cooked meal besides store-bought salads and bento boxes because he wants to give you a break from cooking.Â
He slips off his shoes, placing them near the door, when he hears your heels clicking across the floor. âMmm, what did you cook tonight, my love? Whatever it is, it smells absolutelyâŠâ The last word dies in his throat when he turns around and gets a good look at you.Â
He has been yearning to see you all day. Getting an eyeful of you after a day of strangers, coworkers, and gray cubicle walls is a blessing indeed. At work, he often pictures you running around in your cute little ruffled and lace dresses, a feather duster in hand or a hose as you water your planted petunias and daisies.Â
How he loves seeing you in your polka-dotted and poodle-printed dresses with lace at the hem and the collar just low enough to see a slip of collarbone and your gorgeous breasts. You like to look pretty when you clean and cook, always meeting him at the door with a drink in hand and a sweet kiss.Â
But tonight is different. Tonight, you greet him with his favoriteâwhiskey on the rocksâ, but also something else. You arenât wearing one of your prim and proper homemaker dresses. Instead, youâre wearing a matching white midriff top and ruffled mini skirt printed with little red cherries, red thigh-length stockings, a garter belt, and firetruck red heels that click across the floor as you strut towards him.Â
Nanami stares, shocked into silence, as his eyes drink you inâthe way your lips, coated in sinful red lipstick, curl into a sultry smile; the way your brown skin and bouncy black curls pop against the bright red and stark white; the slender curves of your hips, slightly widened by your little baby bump, and luscious tits pushed up so enticingly by your push-up bra.Â
âDelicious,â he finishes. The word escapes him, hot and seductive. Your smile grows, the red of your lips matching the glossy nail polish on your fingernails. He wonders if your toenails match. âWhy, thank you, hubby. Welcome home. How was your day?âÂ
âU-UhâŠw-well, IâŠbaby, whatâŠâ Nanami pauses, licking his dry lips. His body, having been exhausted from work, is suddenly rigid, just as his dick is. You look like a walking wet dream. A certified pin-up fantasy. And youâre acting as if itâs so normal!Â
You cock your head to the side, looking concerned, but you still got that playful twinkle in your brown eyes framed by your long, black lashes. âYou okay, honey? You look a little flushed. Come on, letâs sit you down so you can have your stiff-one.âÂ
Nanami wants to give you a stiff-one too, preferably on the comfy couch you sit him down on. When you hand him his whiskey, he has to focus 100% of his brain power on taking a sip. All he can think about is your soft, brown skin and how sweet you smell. The aroma is sugary and gourmet. Fruity but not quite. It makes his cock even harder.Â
You smile as he sips his drink, his Adamâs Apple bobbing. âThere, better now?â Nanami doesnât want to tell you that youâre, in fact, making his situation a lot worse.Â
It takes everything in him to will his dick to not poke a hole in his pants. He canât remember the last time youâve gotten him this horny. Nanami has always considered himself to be a pretty vanilla man and he has always been attracted to you, but to see you sitting here looking so sexy in your little pin-up girl gear is damn near making him want to lock you up and fuck you dumb for the rest of the weekend.Â
He clears his throat, his cheeks growing hot and red. âY-Yes, butâŠyour outfitâŠwhere is your dress?â You blink at him, acting so confused and innocent, which somehow turns him on more. This is a game to you. âOh, this?â you giggle, smoothing out your skirt. âDo you like it? I thought tonight was just too hot for a dress.âÂ
You expectantly stare at him for an answer, but his silence makes you frown. âDo you not like it?â you softly ask, your eyes growing big. If Nanami could punch himself, he would. He never wants to make you feel unsexy or unpretty just because he canât handle his own perverted feelings!
âNo, no, I do,â he protests, squeezing your hands in his. âI love it, honey. You lookâŠâ Amazing. Gorgeous. Sexy. Fuckable. âIâm just confused becauseâŠdid you clean in that today?â He feels stupid even pondering the thought, but you giggle anyway, flashing him that gorgeous smile. âNo, silly man! I put this one for when you got home. I wanted to surprise you.â
He blinks, confused and still ogling at your chest like a perv. âSurprise me? With what?â Now you get shy, that little vixen role you had earlier vanishing. âWithâŠme, I guess,â you softly reply. âAre you sure you like it? I know itâs new and I can take it back if you really donâtââÂ
But Nanami silences you with a passionate kiss, his hand cupping your chin. You moan in surprise, just as shook by his sudden dominance as he is. While he has no problem taking the reins during sex if you initiate it, he has never felt such a fiery urge to grab you and use you until now. âI told you that I fucking love it,â he pants when he pulls away, staring into your hooded eyes. âLook at you. You got me hard as soon as I saw you.âÂ
Your pretty eyes widen, surprised by his vulgar words. He can tell they excite you though, judging by the change in your breathing and the way you bite your bottom lip. âReally?â He nods, his fingers playing with your black curls. âReally. But I have to ask why the change? You usually wear your pretty dresses around the house.âÂ
And those dresses get him just as ready to fuck you as your outfit now, albeit imaging him ripping it off and fucking you stupid in them until he ruins the pretty lace with his cum.Â
Your smile suddenly fades, your expression looking somewhat uncertain. âI was doing our laundry today and I found something of yours.â Suddenly, Nanamiâs stomach drops. âFound what?â he carefully asks, his brows furrowed above his spectacles. Surely, you donât meanâŠ
You give him an apologetic look, your bottom lip sunk between your teeth. âYourâŠpin-up girl magazine. It fell out from your sock drawer.âÂ
Nanami damn near passes out from sheer embarrassment. Heâs so thrown that he has to sip more of his drink. âOh, dear,â he sighs. âYou werenât supposed to find that.â You quickly try to soften the blow, rubbing his arm. âI didnât look in it. And I wasnât snoopinâ. I justââÂ
âI know you werenât, honey,â he replies, gently rubbing your knee. âYouâd never do that to me. But Iâm still embarrassed.â His face grows hot as he thinks of the particular pin-up magazine he had stuffed away.Â
He isnât sure what started this fetish for him, but he is still a man after all. And a man like him will appreciate a womanâs curves and assets. Seeing all of those women, some full-figured, some slightly smaller, showing all of that skin in lace, garter, and leather never fails to get him hot and bothered on those nights where he doesnât want to bother you with his urges. He simply flips open a page, pictures you in one of those slinky, slutty outfits, and busts a hot load into his hand, keeping his grunts soft and his moans low to not wake you.
He has always hidden from you in fear of you finding it disgusting or perverted. Sex is considered something taboo in this day and age; something to only do behind closed doors. But seeing you sitting here like one of the pin-up girls out of his magazine has awakened something in him.Â
âKento, itâs okay,â you softly say, trying to comfort him. âI just didnât realize you were into that sorta thingâŠn-not that itâs bad!âÂ
He quirks a little smirk. He even convinced you that heâs a straight-laced, proper man who doesnât enjoy tits and ass. âSo you bought this just to appease me?â he asks, running a hand over your stockings. âThis isnât because you think I donât find you attractive, is it? Because thatâs far from the truth.â
But judging by your embarrassed expression, he realizes that this is the case. âW-WellâŠwith the baby weight and allâŠI just wanted to try to be sexier for you.â You nervously play with the bows adorning your stockings where your creamy, brown skin meets nylon.Â
Quickly, Nanami wraps his arms around you and places you in his lap, making you squeak. âMy darling, you are sexy no matter what you do or wear. I look at those magazines and think about nobody but you in those outfits and poses.âÂ
You look away, smiling bashfully, even as youâre sitting right on top of his hard cock. His big hand skates down your hip to your thigh, squeezing it possessively. âIâve thought about telling you about this so many times, but I feared youâd think it was abhorrent or perverted.âÂ
You give him a fierce look that gets him harder and hotter, ready to strip off his clothes and fuck you silly. âI could never think that about you, Nanami,â you protest. âAnd I think weâre both perverts in our own way.â You flash him a suggestive smile that piques his interest.Â
âOh? How so? Any secret kinks youâve got locked up?â His hand moves down to your ass, squeezing it in your skirt. âO-OhâŠa few,â you exhale, affected by his bold move. He smirks up at you, your sweet-scented perfume like an aphrodisiac to him. âYeah? Any you want to share with your man?âÂ
He then places you next to him and slowly opens your thighs to get a view of your red lace panties. You bite your lip as he lays you back against the pillows, your tits heaving as you pant. âN-Nanami, the foodâŠsupper will get cold.â
But your husband is too busy gazing at your panties, desperate to see what lies behind them. âIâve got my supper right here,â he murmurs. âDessert too.â Slowly, he thick fingers stroke up your slit, making you moan. He shudders in pleasure when his fingers come back sticky from your dripping arousal. âFuck, youâre wet already, baby,â he sighs. âWere you like this all day for me?â
You stare at him with hooded eyes as he sucks your juices off of his fingers, staring deep into your eyes. âYes,â you softly admit. âWhen I bought this at the mall, I thought about you with me.âÂ
That little admission breaks Nanamiâs resolve and suddenly, he canât think of anything but getting you naked. âWe canât waste this now then, can we?â he chuckles. âMaybe you should model it for me. After all, itâs new.âÂ
You smile, standing up in your wickedly red heels, placing your hands on your curvy hips. âOf course, hubby,â you whisper, a little seductive tilt in your sweet voice. You then strut away, your ass swaying and your skirt swishing as you do, leaving Nanami sporting blue balls.Â
The sound of the sweet doowop song cuts. The record scratches and suddenly, another song begins to play. This one is familiarââI Wanna Be Loved By Youâ by Marylin Monroeâand Nanami couldnât relate to a song more as he sees you slowly strut out from the kitchen.Â
Then you begin to model. You work the living room like itâs your runway and Nanami is your biggest fan. He was already obsessed with you, but watching you flaunt your little outfit and twirl in your skirt makes it worse. You are an itch he canât scratch. A drug he needs every day. He sits back and rubs his cock through his slacks as his eyes indulge in your juicy tits and curves, all of you so sexy and perfect.Â
âTurn around,â he softly demands. You do so, presenting your full ass peeking out from under your skirt, framed by the garter belt and lace stockings for him, making him groan in agony and arousal for you.Â
He canât help it: he starts to strip too, feeling too constricted and sweltered. You turn as he strips off his pristine button-down shirt and wifebeater, exposing every inch of his lean muscles and tan skin for you. His arms, chest, and stomach are sinewy with blonde hair, much to your liking. âWhat are you doing?â you giggle. He flashes you a smile as he tosses the shirt away. âModeling for you too. Come here.â
He crooks a finger at you and you canât resist. You slowly walk up to him and he pulls you closer before gently placing your heel against his chest. He begins to kiss down your knee, his fingers running over every sensitive spot of your leg. âKento,â you softly hum, running your fingers through his blonde locks. âThat feels so good.âÂ
Nanami continues to kiss up your leg, reaching your calf and then up your thigh, his nimble fingers running over your muscle. The heel of your stiletto shoe presses into his skin, that pinch of pain making him rock hard. He is practically feening for you like an addict as he presses your foot into his broad chest, giving you the most sultry smile he has ever given anyone. âYouâre perfect,â he whispers. âHow did I ever get so damn lucky?âÂ
Slowly, he takes off your heel as you stand there, aroused and silent. As the song places softly in the background, Nanami slips off your stocking to reveal your pretty foot and red-painted toes. He gently kisses your sole before placing your foot on his hard cock, emitting a soft gasp from you. âNow do you see how sexy you are?â he murmurs, staring so intently into your eyes as you do his.Â
âIâŠcertainly feel it,â you purr. Nanami groans as he lets your red-painted toes gently rub his bulge, massaging his cock through his slacks. âSo what will you do about it?â he huffs. You smile and slowly kneel, giving him a great view of your tits as you do. Your fingers run over his thighs up to his belt. âMay I take these off for you, Daddy?â you ask, so sultry and sweet.Â
The forbidden, dirty pet name causes fire to skate through Nanamiâs body. âOf course, you can, sweetie,â he replies. âMy girl can have whatever she wants.â He watches as you skillfully unbuckle him and snatch his pants down to his ankles. He takes himself out for you, unable to be patient for your mouth.Â
The hot gaze you give his hard cock is like a drug to him. He is on the thicker side with a slight curve up and a bulbous, pink head protruding from a happy trail of blonde curls. Youâve sucked his cock many times before, but he still feels the same euphoria he did the first time you blew him. Your sucks are slow and languid yet deep and sloppy, slurping up every thick, girthy inch of him.Â
Nanami groans, his head tilting back at the pleasure you serve him on a silver platter. âGod,â he pants. âSeriously, how did I ever get so damn lucky to get you?â Your brown eyes tick up at him as you pull away, your red lipstick already smeared across your lips and coating his cock.Â
âBecause youâre such a wonderful husband,â you whisper, giving his cockhead a sloppy kiss, leaving a red lipstick stain. âAnd youâll be an even greater father.âÂ
You then spit on his cock, damn near driving him insane, and begin to stroke him with both hands as you go right back to sucking him. Your slow sucking transitions to quicker, wetter, messier sucks and slurps, your moans vibrating against his cock and your throat tightening around him. âFuck,â he moans, fingers laced through your black curls. âGod, h-honeyâŠyouâre gonna make me cum. You make me feel so good.âÂ
You pause to pop off of him like a lollipop, smiling. âThat makes me so happy, Kenny!â you chirp. âI love making you feel good, Daddy.â He shivers at the pet name, his hand digging into the couch cushion while the other pets your curls. âDoes my girl want her man to fuck her pretty mouth?â he hums.Â
You nod, your eyes sparkling with need. âYes, please.â His cock twitches and throbs at your sweet obedience, wanting to do everything you could ever want from him tonight. âSorry about the lipstick, sweetie,â he mutters. But he isnât that sorry when he starts fucking your tight, wet throat.Â
Nanamiâs moans grow loud and bounce off of the walls as he fucks up into your throat, watching as your cheeks hollow to keep him locked in your mouth. Red stains his cock, marking him as yours completely, his balls flush with your chin. He fucks your throat like he would your pussy, your spit dripping down to his balls and staining the couch, his girth making you gag and your throat flex around him.Â
His balls begin to tighten and soon, he can feel a much-needed orgasm rising to the surface. âFuck, baby! Iâm gonna fucking cum!â he grunts. âWhere do you want it?â He slides out long enough to let you speak, albeit through pants of air as you catch your breath. The smile you give him is straight out of a porno, all sex. âWherever you want it, Daddy~âÂ
He wants so desperately to cum all over your pretty face done-up in makeup. Make your mascara drip with his spunk and smear your red lipstick even more. But instead, he does something more respectful to your hard work. He begins to stroke his cock in your face, his orgasm growing closer the more you stare at his hand turning into a blur with how hard and fast he pumps his dick.Â
âStick your tongue out,â he demands as he pumps his cock up and down, stroking his cum out of his dick for you. You do so, sticking your pink tongue out between your red lips as you snatch your tits out of your top. Between your pretty mouth and your juicy tits, he has no idea where to look.Â
âFuck!â he groans as his release hits him like a truck, pleasure skating through his body. Tendrils of heat rush up through his cock as he cums, shooting ropes of spunk onto your skin. He shudders and moans as he watches his spunk drip down your full tits and over your pink tongue, especially when you hum and swallow it all for him. âGood girl,â he sighs. âNow do you want your reward for such a good job?âÂ
You eagerly nod, vibrating with need. âYes please, Daddy,â you whimper. He smiles, gently stroking your cheek. âThen stand up and bend over for me. I need to taste you.â
He helps you up on wobbly legs and slips your heel and stocking off for you, leaving you much shorter than him (not that the heels did much). When youâre fully bent over and presenting that ass to him underneath that slutty little skirt is when he almost loses all self control. Your cheeks look so full and enticing with your red panties wedged between them, shining with your sticky arousal.Â
He begins to kiss and nibble on your asscheeks, making you moan and push your ass back into his face. You look back at him, your eyes sparkling with want. âN-Nanami,â you stammer. âCould you, umâŠâ You pause, biting your lip with uncertainty. Nanami smiles, already knowing that youâve got something quite naughty in mind. âYes, honey? What do you need?â
He places a hand on your ass, stroking it thoughtfully, emitting a soft moan from you. âCould youâŠmaybe spank me?â you softly ask. He grins, his flaccid cock suddenly hardening at the little slut of a wife he realizes that heâs got. âOf course, I can. You let me know if it hurts too much, understand?â You nod and he flips up your skirt before he raises one palm, bringing it down hard onto your asscheek.Â
SPANK!Â
You gasp as his hand connects with your asscheek, your bottom jiggling against his palm. He sees the way your back arches and how you pant like a bitch in heat. âYou like that, sweetie?â he coos. âYou want another one?â You nod, biting your lip. So what does he do? He gives you more, of course.Â
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
His hand repeatedly collides with your asscheeks, the sound of his palm connecting with each one filling the air. The sound of his hand smacking against your skin and your gasps make him rock hard again. His assault has affected you tooâfrom here, he can see how soaked youâve become, your arousal dripping down your creamy thighs, sticky and shiny.Â
He bends down to lick it all up, making you moan. âOh, myâŠlook at how soaked my poor girl is,â he tuts. âAnd after cleaning and cooking alone all day. We canât have that.â He then moves your panties down to your ankles, exposing your pretty pussy to him, and begins to softly lick you. He nuzzles his nose into your pussy, rubbing your clit, as your sweet aroma catches his nostrils.Â
âOh,â you sigh. âThat feels so good, Kenny. Please more.â It doesnât take long for his cock to spring back to life when you begin moaning and gasping at his tongue lashings. He turns into a hungered beast, his hands gripping your ass as he juts his tongue out to fuck up into your hole.Â
âA-Ah, fuck!â you gasp, grabbing the couch for dear life as your body shakes with pleasure. âYes, baby, yes! Right there! Donât stop!â Youâve never been this loud before. Youâve never sounded so slutty. Nanami loves it; craves it like he does your pussy, your sweetness and wetness coating his tongue like sugar.Â
He thinks about doing this to you all day at work, making himself hard at the thought of tasting you and making you moan from his soft lips. He makes it last for you, focusing on your pleasure, until your moans grow loud and high like an opera singer about to reach her big number. âOh, fuck, Iâm gonna c-cum!â you stammer through gasps of air. âYouâre gonna make me cum, Kento!âÂ
Nanami is so hard that he is dripping with pre-cum, causing him to stroke himself as he eats you out. âCum for me,â he growls, urgency in his tone. âCum so I can fuck you and make you cum around this cock. Do it, my darling; give it to me!â And like a puppet on strings, you listen and cum all over his tongue.Â
You moan his name as you cream all over his mouth, flooding it with your sweet honey. Nanami grows and damn near whimpers at your taste, considering it better than a cold drink of water on a hot day. When you finish cumming and bucking those hips, Nanami finally pulls away and presses a final kiss to your twitching clit. âMmm, you taste like cherries,â he hums.Â
Slowly, you turn to him, your eyes hooded and makeup slightly askew. Youâve never looked more beautiful to him. âFuck me please,â you whine, staring into his eyes. âI need you, hubby.âÂ
When he stands, you press your ass back into him, rubbing your naked pussy on his cock, emitting a moan from both of you. Youâre playing with fire and he is ready to let his flames engulf you. âWhatever my baby wants,â he murmurs, giving your ass a slight smack. He wraps a hand around his cock and presses it against your entrance, making you whimper. âBut youâd better take it all, understand?â
You sexily giggle, wiggling your ass around as he toys with it, smacking it up. âYes, Daââ But you donât get to finish, too busy gasping as he finally pushes himself inside of you.Â
He fucks you over the couch first, one hand on your full ass and the other gripping your hip; your tummy; your full, bouncing tits. Any part of you that he can grab. He flips your skirt up and tears your top off, letting your breasts free and fully bounce as he fucks you in doggy, bouncing you up and down off of his cock.Â
âF-Fuck, Ken, yes!â you gasp. âOh, my God, thatâs so good! You fuck me so good!âÂ
âYeah?â he teasingly asks, pressing soft kisses down your spine. âMy sweet little wife likes gettinâ fucked like a slut, doesnât she?â He gives your ass another hard smack, making you cry out in sheer pleasure, your black curls bouncing all around your head as he takes you to paradise.Â
Then, without a warning, he scoops you up and walks you over to the dining room table, kicking away his slacks as he does. The table is littered with dishes of foodâmashed potatoes, salad, roasted broccoli, roasted chicken. But the only meal he wants right now is you. âNanami, no!â you laugh as your back hits the tablecloth table. âThe food! Youâre gonna ruin theââ
He silences you with an open-mouthed kiss that steals both of your breaths away, smearing his mouth in your red lipstick. âQuiet down now, my love,â he whispers. âI canât fuck you properly if youâre not moaning for me.â
He then proceeds to fuck you on your back on the table, making it rock back and forth with his thrusts. Your legs wrap tight around him, your heels digging into his firm ass, as your arms lock around his neck. You gasp and moan as you bounce off of his cock like the perfect little fuck bunny, your pussy squelching in time with his thrusts. âHarder, Kenny, please!â you whine. âFuck me faster! Make me cum for you!âÂ
Nanami is happy to oblige, pinning your thighs apart as he fucks you harder, making your pussy drip and squelch all around his cock. âIs this how you want it, hm? This how you like it?â You canât speak, too tongue-tied. Your eyes roll back as he gives you dick like you need it, thighs split and pussy stuffed. âYou look so beautiful like this,â he groans. âMakes me wanna give you another baby.âÂ
He runs a tender hand over your little baby bump, not quite big but not small either. Just a few weeks along. You stare up into his eyes, tender and longing, making his cock twitch inside of you. You lock your legs around him, locking him inside of you, making it hard to pull away even if he wanted to. âDo it,â you hiccup. âGive me another baby, Ken. I want this with you.âÂ
Nanami turns into a damn monster, hungry for more. He canât resist pulling out and bending you over the dinner table, taking you in doggy again. With every bounce of your luscious ass against his stomach and every slam of his cock inside of your luscious pussy, he drags you both to the edge of pleasure. âFuck, Daddy, yes!â you whine. âHarder! Faster! Fuck me just like that!âÂ
âYeah? Like that?â he pants, his body soaked in sweat and flushed from the frantic fucking. He then laces a hand around your throat and gives it a squeeze, making your jaw go slack. âOnly I can fuck you like this, right? Youâre mine, arenât you, sweetie?âÂ
He fucks you harder, faster, his hips snapping against your ass, ruining your curls that you spent all day perfecting. âYes, yes, yes!â you gasp. âOh, my God, Ken, Iâm gonna cum again! S-Slow down!â He chuckles, the sound dark and rather evil. âFuck that. Youâre gonna cum for me again and Iâm gonna give you another load for that sweet pussy.âÂ
SMACK!
He gives your pussy a little smack that makes you squeak, the sound so cute and addictive. âGonna give you another baby,â he moans in your ear. âGonna make you a mommy. Give you everything you could ever want.âÂ
He needs to make you cum again. Needs to fill you up. Needs to mark your womb with his child once more. That urge only grows when he presses his nose into your neck and inhales, breathing in that sweet aroma again. Then it comes to him: you smell like cherries.
âI love you so much, darling,â he whispers. âYou know that right?â You nod, smiling, turning to face him. âI love you too,â you whimper.Â
âThen prove it,â he grunts. âCum for me right now. Câmon, give me another one, darling. You can do it.â You wrap your arm around his neck, cradling him between the crook of your neck, sharing a sloppy French kiss with him, exchanging moans and saliva between each other.Â
You donât warn him when you cumâyou just do it. When your moans grow louder than the music, you cream all over him again, soaking his cock and balls in your honey. He canât help itâhe cums at the same time you do. âOh, fuck!â he bellows as another hot load of cum shoots out of him. He grips your hips enough to bruise them as he shoots a hot load inside of you, releasing all of the tension wired up from work and your outfit.Â
But he isnât done yet. After he makes you cum again, he pulls out and begins stroking his cock, the wet sounds of his fingers wrapped around his wet shaft filling the air. âGet on your knees for me,â he pants, pumping his cock in an effort to save more of his cum for you.Â
You kneel before him, your brown skin glittering in sweat, your tits still dripping in his cum from before. This time he wants to ruin your makeup. He wants to ruin you. With a rasped groan of release, another hot shot of cum shoots out of his cock and splashes onto your tits and pretty face. You giggle as each drop hits your face, dripping down your lips and chin.Â
âMmm,â you hum, sucking his cum off of your lips. âThank you, Daddy. Thatâs better than the cherry pie I fixed for you.âÂ
Nanami softly chuckles as he pants, his broad, sweaty chest heaving from the rush. âNothingâs better than your cooking, darling.â Accept maybe your pussy, of course.Â
He helps you stand on your wobbly legs and holds you close, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist. âThink I gave you another baby just now?â he chuckles. You nuzzle your face into his chest, running your hands over his chest hair. âHoney, I think you gave me triplets at this point!â you giggle. âNow we can grow our little family.âÂ
He rubs a loving hand over your stomach, smiling. âYes, we can,â he whispers into your soft curls. âIâm looking forward to it, my little cherry.â
You smile bashfully at the new pet name and stand on your toes to kiss him, your hand covering his over your stomach. âNow do you want dinner?â you softly ask against his lips.Â
Nanami pretends to think about it. His appetite is still there, but it isnât for your home cooked meal. Instead, itâs all for you. âMmm, not too sure. I think I want some of your cherry pie.â His hand runs over your ass, squeezing it possessively, making you purr like a kitten.
âWell, both are bakinâ just for you,â you purr. âWhich one do you want, hubby?â
It isnât a hard choice for Nanami. In a lickity split second, youâre on your back on the table, moaning and writhing for him as he slurps your pussy up. The only time he pauses is when the oven dings.Â
Synopsis: Another night, another successful diamond heistâor at least it was supposed to be. Just when your about to escape, Batman Toji and Spider-Man Gojo corner you on a rooftop and immediately start arguing over who gets the honor of dragging you to jail first. Unfortunately for them, you're much better at making deals than getting caught. And when neither hero can agree on who gets to claim their prize, you offer a far more tempting alternative...
It was the middle of the night when the city finally quieted down enough for you to move. The moon hung low and bright over Gotham, casting silver light across rooftops and alleys while the distant hum of traffic and late-night chatter drifted up from the streets below. You moved like smoke along the edge of the tallest building on the block, the one everyone knew housed the most expensive jewelry store in the city.
Your black catsuit clung to every curve, the glossy material stretching tight over your hips and chest as you crouched beside the ventilation shaft you had scoped out days earlier. The mask covered only the upper half of your face, leaving your mouth free and your eyes sharp behind the dark lenses. A large canvas sack hung from your shoulder, already empty and waiting to be filled.
You slipped through the vent without a sound, landing soft on the marble floor inside the storeâs back hallway. Security lasers swept lazily across the main floor, but you knew the pattern by heart. One quick dash, a roll under the beam, and you were standing in front of the reinforced glass cases that glittered under soft display lights. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphiresârows of them winked at you like they had been waiting just for you. Your gloved fingers worked fast, popping locks and lifting the most valuable pieces into the sack. Necklaces heavy with stones, rings that could pay rent for a year, watches that cost more than most cars. The sack grew heavier with every careful grab, the weight settling against your hip in a satisfying way.
Then you saw it.
In the center case, under its own spotlight, sat a diamond the size of a walnut, cut so perfectly it threw rainbows across the walls when the light hit it just right. Your breath caught for half a second. That one was coming home with you. You smashed the glass with a gloved fist, the alarm staying silent thanks to the jammer you had clipped to your belt earlier. The diamond dropped into your palm, cold and heavy, and you slipped it into a special pouch inside your suit before turning back to the rest of the vault. You didnât stop until the sack was bulging and your arms ached from the weight. Only then did you sling it over your shoulder and head for the service exit you had left cracked open.
The door never opened.
A massive shadow dropped from the ceiling and landed between you and freedom. Batman Toji stood there in full gear, the black cape settling around his broad shoulders like it belonged to him. The cowl hid most of his face, but you could still see the hard line of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed the second they landed on the sack hanging from your shoulder. He was built like a goddamn tankâshoulders wide enough to block doorways, arms thick with muscle that strained against the armored suit, chest rising and falling slow and steady like he hadnât just dropped from three stories up. The city loved him. Kids had posters. News anchors called him a hero. Right now he just looked pissed.
"Put the bag down, Catwoman,â he said, voice low and rough like gravel under tires. âYouâre not walking out of here with that.â
You tilted your head, letting a slow smile curve your lips. âDamn, Bats. You always show up looking this good or is tonight special just for me? Those arms look like they could bench press a car. Makes a girl wonder what else youâre packing under all that armor.
Toji didnât even blink. âIâm not here for your bullshit. Drop the bag. Now.â
You took one slow step closer, the sack shifting against your back. âCome on, handsome. We both know you donât really want to drag me to jail tonight. Look at youâbig, strong, serious. Bet youâd rather be doing something a lot more fun than paperwork.â
His gloved hand flexed at his side. âLast warning.â
You laughed, low and throaty, and that was when he moved. He came at you fast, one hand reaching for the sack, the other aiming to pin your wrist. You twisted away, using the momentum to swing the heavy bag into his side. It connected with a dull thud and he grunted, but he recovered quicker than you expected. A gloved fist grazed your ribs and you hissed, ducking under his next grab. The two of you traded blows in the narrow hallwayâyour agility against his raw power. You landed a kick to his thigh that made him stumble, but he caught your ankle on the next swing and yanked you off balance. You rolled with it, using the pull to flip backward and land on your feet again.
âFeisty,â you panted, circling him. âI like that.â
âShut up and fight,â he growled, lunging again.
This time you were ready. You slipped past his reach, slammed your shoulder into the emergency exit bar, and burst out into the alley. The sack bounced against your back as you sprinted for the fire escape ladder. Toji was right behind you, boots pounding the pavement. You climbed fast, muscles burning, the diamond collection clinking softly inside the bag with every rung. By the time you hauled yourself onto the rooftop, your lungs were on fire and the city stretched out below like a glittering map. Tojiâs silhouette appeared at the edge of the roof seconds later, cape snapping in the wind as he pulled himself up after you.
You backed up a few steps, sack still slung over one shoulder, chest heaving. The moonlight caught on the black material of your suit, highlighting every curve. Toji straightened to his full height, breathing steady despite the chase. His eyes never left you.
âYouâre fast,â he said, voice carrying across the open space. âBut not fast enough to outrun me forever.â
You smirked, wiping a bead of sweat from your temple with the back of your glove. âKeep chasing me like this and I might start thinking you like the view from behind.â
Toji took one deliberate step forward, fists loose at his sides. âYouâre going to jail tonight. Thatâs all there is to it.â
The wind picked up, carrying the distant sound of sirens that hadnât quite reached this block yet. You shifted your weight, ready to run again if you had to, the heavy sack a constant reminder of exactly how much trouble you were in. Tojiâs presence filled the rooftop like a storm cloud, all muscle and quiet fury, and for the first time that night you felt the real weight of what came next.
You didnât waste another second. The moment Toji took that single step forward, you spun on your heel and bolted across the rooftop, the heavy sack of stolen jewels bouncing against your spine with every stride. The wind tore at your mask and the black fabric of your catsuit as you vaulted over the low ledge and landed on the next building, boots scraping concrete. Behind you, the unmistakable sound of heavy boots followedâBatman Toji wasnât letting up. His cape snapped like a flag in the wind, and every time you glanced back you caught the glint of his cowl under the moonlight.
You cleared another gap between rooftops, heart hammering, when a thin white strand suddenly snapped across your path. You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Of course. The web belonged to only one person, and you already knew who was waiting at the end of it. Spiderman Gojo dropped down from a water tower in that ridiculous red-and-blue suit, landing in a crouch that somehow still looked cocky. The mask hid his face, but you could practically feel the shit-eating grin underneath it.
"Bad kitty,â he called out, voice bright and teasing even as he shot another web that you had to dodge mid-run. âStealing from a jewelry store? Thatâs low, even for you. What, diamonds not shiny enough on your own collar?â
You laughed under your breath, the sound carried away by the wind as you kept moving. Both heroes were gaining, and the bickering started almost immediately.
âStay out of this, web-head,â Toji growled from behind you, his voice rough and irritated. âSheâs mine tonight.â
Gojoâs laughter rang out, light and unbothered. âYours? Please. Last time you said that I still had to save your ass from falling off a fire escape. Besides, the people love me more. Iâm the fun one.â
"Fun doesnât put criminals in cuffs,â Toji snapped, leaping across the same gap you had just cleared. âAnd Iâm not in the mood for your bullshit.â
You couldnât help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped you as you sprinted. Their voices carried easily over the rooftops, the two of them arguing like you werenât even there.
âAdmit it, Bats,â Gojo continued, swinging ahead of you on another web line. âYou just donât want to share the credit. Or maybe you like the view too much to let her go.â
"Shut the fuck up,â Toji barked back. âFocus on the job instead of running your mouth.â
You were still laughing when the next building came into view and your stomach dropped. It was too high. The gap was wider than any youâd cleared tonight, the edge of the opposite rooftop a good twenty feet away and at least one story higher. Your boots skidded to a halt right at the ledge, the sack swinging forward and nearly pulling you off balance. The laughter died in your throat.
Both men landed behind you in perfect syncâTojiâs heavy landing sending a small cloud of dust into the air, Gojo touching down light as a cat. You turned slowly, the smirk sliding back onto your face like a mask of its own. Hands raised in mock surrender, you let the sack dangle from one finger.
âAlright, boys,â you purred, voice smooth despite the adrenaline still rushing through you. âLooks like you finally cornered the infamous Catwoman. Impressive. Really. But hereâs the thingâIâm willing to make a deal. You let me walk, and this very heavy, very expensive bag of shiny things hits the ground right now. No chase, no cuffs, no paperwork. Everybody wins.â
Toji didnât even hesitate. âNot happening.â
Gojo tilted his head, the white eyes of his mask narrowing slightly. âTempting offer, but Iâm gonna have to pass. Youâve been a very bad kitty tonight and I think itâs time you learned some manners.â
You made a show of letting the sack slip an inch lower, watching both of them flinch in perfect unison. The sight pulled another laugh from you, low and throaty. Neither one of them was listening to the actual words coming out of your mouth. They were too busy staring at the bag like it was the only thing that mattered. Fine. Time for plan Bâthe one that always worked when heroes got too eager.
The silence stretched between the three of you like a live wire, the distant wail of sirens still too far to matter yet. You let the smirk linger on your lips as you watched both heroes stand there, rigid, the weight of your first offer clearly not landing. Fine. Time for something they couldnât ignore.
You tilted your head, voice dropping into a low, velvet purr. âFine. You can drag me off to the authorities⊠or,â you paused, letting the word hang while your hips began a slow, deliberate sway. Step by step you closed the distance to Toji, the heavy sack of jewels still dangling from your fingers before you set it down with a soft thud.
Your gloved hand rose, fingertips tracing the hard planes of his armored chest, feeling the faint rise and fall of his breath beneath the suit. âYou both could have your way with me. Right here. Right now. Wouldnât that be more fun than paperwork and handcuffs?â
You bit your lower lip, eyes flicking between them, letting the suggestion settle. Gojoâs masked head snapped toward Toji, the white lenses of his mask narrowing. Tojiâs jaw flexed, visible even under the cowl, but he didnât immediately bark a refusal. Instead his gaze dragged over you, slow and heavy, before he rolled his eyes and exhaled through his teeth like the decision physically pained him.
Gojo let out a short, incredulous laugh, but there was heat under it. âSheâs serious. Look at her. Bad kitty making the worst best offer of the night.â
Tojiâs silence was answer enough. The bulge pressing against the front of his suit was impossible to miss, and the way his gloved hands flexed at his sides told you everything. You smiled, bright and wicked, excitement sparking through you as you stepped away from him and toward Gojo.
You reached up, fingers hooking under the edge of his mask and lifting it just enough to expose his mouth. The second your lips met his the kiss turned messy, open-mouthed, tongues sliding hot and wet. Gojo groaned into it, one hand immediately gripping your waist while the other tangled in the back of your suit. You moaned right back, the sound swallowed between you as you pressed closer, bodies flush.
Your free hand found the zipper at the front of your catsuit. The metallic rasp was loud in the night air as you dragged it down, inch by inch, revealing the swell of your breasts, the smooth skin of your sternum, the curve of your stomach. The cool rooftop breeze kissed newly exposed flesh and your nipples tightened instantly. You kept the kiss going, sloppy and hungry, saliva glistening on both your lips when you finally pulled back just enough to breathe.
âSee?â you whispered against Gojoâs mouth, voice husky. âTold you itâd be fun.â
Tojiâs low growl rumbled behind you, but he didnât stop you. His eyes stayed locked on the way your suit gaped open, on the way your body moved as you leaned back into another deep, wet kiss with the web-slinger. Gojoâs hands roamed greedily now, one sliding down to palm your ass through the remaining fabric, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.
âFuck, kitty,â Gojo breathed when the kiss broke again, lips shiny. âYou taste like trouble.â
You laughed softly, the sound turning into a moan as Toji finally stepped in close behind you, his large frame boxing you between them. His gloved hand found your hip, fingers digging in possessively while his other hand reached around to cup one of your breasts through the open suit, thumb brushing over your nipple. The contrast of his rough touch and Gojoâs eager grip had heat pooling low in your belly.
âBoth of you,â you murmured, voice thick with want, âare way too eager for this. Thought you wanted me in cuffs.â
Tojiâs mouth brushed the shell of your ear, breath hot. âStill might. After.â
Gojo chuckled, already leaning in for another kiss, mask still pushed up just enough. âSpeak for yourself, Bats. Iâm enjoying the view right now.â
Your zipper kept sliding lower under your own fingers, the suit parting further as the night air and two pairs of hungry hands explored every inch you revealed. The chase was over. The real game had just begun.
The zipper kept descending under your fingers until the glossy black fabric parted all the way down your front, the cool night wind rushing over your bare skin and making your nipples pebble tight. You let the catsuit hang open, the heavy material sliding off one shoulder as you pressed your body back into Tojiâs broad chest. His gloved palm immediately claimed your left breast, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp, while Gojoâs hands slid down your hips and gripped your ass through the remaining fabric, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh.
âFuck, look at you,â Gojo breathed against your mouth, mask still pushed up just enough for his lips to brush yours with every word. âTits out on a rooftop like a filthy little cat in heat. You really gonna let us wreck you right here where anyone could see?â
Tojiâs low growl vibrated against your ear. âSheâs been asking for it all night. Running around in that tight suit, shaking her ass, thinking she could tease us and get away with it.â His free hand slid down your stomach, pushing the open zipper even lower until his fingers brushed the slick heat between your thighs. âAlready wet for us, kitty. Pathetic.â
You moaned at the rough touch, hips rolling forward into his hand while your ass pushed back against Gojoâs grip. âMaybe I like being caught,â you purred, voice husky. âMaybe I want both of you to fuck me stupid up here. Think you can handle that, Bats? Or are you all talk?â
Toji answered by yanking the rest of your suit down your hips in one sharp tug, the fabric pooling around your boots. He spun you around to face him, gloved fingers gripping your jaw as he crashed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue pushed deep, claiming every inch while Gojo dropped to his knees behind you, spreading your cheeks and dragging his tongue straight over your tight hole in a filthy, wet stripe.
"Shitâ!â you gasped into Tojiâs mouth, knees buckling as Gojoâs tongue circled and pushed, spit dripping down your crack while his fingers dug into your thighs. Toji caught you easily, one massive arm hooking under your leg to hold you open as he shoved two gloved fingers into your dripping pussy without warning. The stretch burned so good you cried out, clenching around him while Gojo kept eating your ass like he was starving.
âListen to her,â Gojo mumbled against your skin, voice thick with spit. âMoaning like a whore already. Bet sheâs never had two heroes ruining her at once.â He spat directly on your hole and pushed his tongue back in, fucking you with it while Tojiâs fingers curled hard against your front wall.
âGonna make you squirt all over my hand before I even put my cock in you,â Toji growled against your lips, adding a third finger and pumping faster. âThen Iâm gonna stuff both your holes until youâre leaking our cum down your thighs like the greedy little thief you are.â
Your head fell back against Gojoâs shoulder as the pleasure built fast and sharp. Tojiâs thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles while his fingers fucked you open and Gojoâs tongue kept working your ass. The wet sounds were obscene in the night air, your moans echoing off the rooftops as your thighs started to shake.
âFuckâfuck, Iâm gonnaââ you choked out, hips jerking wildly between them.
Tojiâs mouth curved into a dark smirk against your throat. âThatâs it, cat. Cum for us.â
The orgasm hit hard, your pussy clenching and squirting around Tojiâs fingers while Gojo groaned and lapped up every drop that ran down your thighs. They didnât give you time to recover. Toji freed his thick cock from his suit, the heavy length slapping against your stomach, and Gojo stood up behind you, mask still half-lifted as he freed his own cock and pressed the head against your spit-slick ass.
"Ready to take both of us, kitty?â Gojo asked, voice rough with need. âGonna fill you up so good youâll forget how to run.â
Toji gripped your hips, lifting you like you weighed nothing and lining his cock up with your soaked pussy. âAnswer him, cat. Tell us you want it.â
You barely had time to nod before both men thrust forward at once, Toji burying himself to the hilt in your cunt while Gojo pushed into your ass. The stretch was overwhelming, your body shaking as they filled you completely, your moans turning into broken sobs of pleasure. They started moving immediately, rough and relentless, using you between them on the open rooftop while the city lights glittered below and distant sirens wailed somewhere far away.
"Fuck, sheâs tight,â Toji grunted, pounding up into you hard enough to make your tits bounce. âTaking both cocks like she was made for it.â
Gojoâs hands gripped your waist from behind, driving into your ass with sharp thrusts. âSuch a good little slut for us. Gonna pump you full, kitty. Gonna make you leak for days.â
They fucked you harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing across the roof. Your body bounced between them, every thrust punching moans from your throat as they used you without mercy. Another orgasm built fast, your walls fluttering around both cocks as they hit every sensitive spot inside you.
âGonna cum again,â you sobbed, nails digging into Tojiâs armored shoulders. âPleaseâplease donât stopââ
Tojiâs hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision spark. âCum on our cocks, cat. Show us how much you love being used.â
You shattered again, squirting hard around Tojiâs cock while your ass clenched on Gojoâs length. They didnât slow down, fucking you straight through it, chasing their own release with brutal thrusts. Toji came first, burying himself deep and flooding your pussy with thick ropes of cum, the heat pushing you into another smaller orgasm.
Gojo followed seconds later, groaning loud as he pumped your ass full, both men holding you up as their cum started leaking out around their cocks and dripping down your thighs.
They stayed buried inside you for a long moment, breathing hard, hands roaming your sweat-slick skin. Tojiâs mouth found yours again in a slower, messier kiss while Gojo pressed soft bites along your shoulder.
âFuck,â Gojo muttered, voice hoarse. âWeâre not done with you yet, kitty.â
Toji pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from your used pussy before he turned you around and pushed you down onto your knees between them. âClean us up, cat. Then weâre flipping you over and doing it all again.â
You looked up at both heroes through hazy eyes, their cocks still hard and glistening with your slick and their cum, and smiled like the filthy little thief you were.
You looked up at both heroes through hazy eyes, their cocks still hard and glistening with your slick and their cum, and smiled like the filthy little thief you were. The night was far from over.
Tojiâs gloved hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back so you had no choice but to meet his dark stare. âOpen that pretty mouth, cat. Clean every drop you left on us.â His voice was low and commanding, the kind that made your thighs clench even though you were already wrecked. Gojo chuckled behind you, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your spit-slick ass while his cock twitched against your cheek.
"Fuck, she looks so good on her knees like this,â Gojo said, voice thick with lust. âOur little kitty thief all messy and dripping. Bet you love tasting yourself on our cocks, donât you, kitty?â
You didnât answer with words. Instead you leaned forward and dragged your tongue up the underside of Tojiâs thick length, collecting the mix of your juices and his cum in one slow, filthy lick. The taste was obscene, salty and slick, and you moaned around him as you took the head into your mouth. Tojiâs hips jerked forward, pushing deeper until your lips stretched wide around his girth. At the same time Gojo pressed his cock against your other cheek, smearing more cum across your skin.
"Thatâs it, cat. Suck him nice and deep,â Gojo praised, his hand sliding down to grip your ass hard enough to leave bruises. âWhile youâre at it, stroke me. Donât be shyâuse both hands if you need to.â
Your fingers wrapped around Gojoâs cock, pumping him in time with the bobbing of your head on Toji. Spit ran down your chin, mixing with the cum already coating your lips. Tojiâs grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements with rough little thrusts that made your throat flutter around him. âGood girl. Take it deeper. Show us how bad you want to be our filthy little cumdump.â
Gojoâs free hand reached down and pinched one of your nipples, rolling the stiff peak between his fingers until you whimpered around Tojiâs cock. âLook at these tits bouncing while you suck. So fucking pretty. Iâm gonna paint them next time I cum.â
Toji pulled you off his cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening head. âEnough. I want that pussy again.â He hauled you up like you weighed nothing, spinning you around and bending you over the edge of the rooftop ledge. The city lights sparkled far below, sirens still distant but growing louder. The danger only made your pulse race hotter.
Gojo moved in front of you, lifting your chin with two fingers. âOpen up for me, kitty. I want that throat while Toji wrecks your cunt.â
Toji didnât wait. He slammed into your soaked pussy in one brutal thrust, the force rocking you forward onto Gojoâs waiting cock. You choked around the thick length as it pushed past your lips, tears springing to your eyes from the sudden stretch in both ends. Tojiâs hips snapped forward again and again, the wet slap of skin echoing across the rooftop while his heavy balls smacked against your clit with every stroke.
âFuck, sheâs still so tight,â Toji growled, one hand gripping your hip while the other reached around to rub your swollen clit. âEven after we filled her up sheâs squeezing me like she never wants to let go.â
Gojoâs fingers threaded through your hair, holding you steady as he fucked your mouth with long, deep strokes. âThatâs because our kitty loves being used. Donât you, cat? Love having both holes stuffed by the heroes you tried to run from.â
You could only moan around Gojoâs cock, the vibrations making him curse and thrust harder. Tojiâs pace grew brutal, each thrust punching the air from your lungs and driving you deeper onto Gojo.
Your tits swung beneath you, nipples brushing the cool concrete ledge. The overstimulation was almost too muchâyour clit throbbed under Tojiâs rough fingers, your pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick cock while your throat worked around Gojo.
âGonna cum again,â you tried to say, but it came out garbled around the cock in your mouth. Gojo laughed breathlessly.
âSheâs trying to talk with her mouth full. Cute.â He pulled out just long enough for you to gasp in air before pushing back in. âCum on Tojiâs cock, kitty. Show us how much you love getting fucked stupid on a rooftop where anyone could see.â
Your orgasm crashed over you hard, pussy spasming and squirting around Tojiâs length as your vision whited out. Toji groaned at the tight squeeze, fucking you through it with short, punishing thrusts that kept you shaking. Gojo pulled out of your mouth and stroked himself fast, painting thick ropes of cum across your face and tits while you moaned and trembled between them.
Toji didnât stop. He kept pounding into your oversensitive cunt, chasing his own release with single-minded focus. âOne more, cat. Give me one more before I fill this greedy pussy again.â His fingers worked your clit mercilessly, pushing you straight into another orgasm that had you screaming his name into the night air.
He buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, flooding your already dripping pussy with another load of hot cum. It leaked out around his cock, running down your thighs in thick white rivulets. Gojo knelt in front of you, licking his own cum off your tits with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue while Toji stayed buried inside you, grinding lazily through the aftershocks.
âFuck,â Toji muttered, voice hoarse. âWeâre keeping this one.â
Gojo grinned up at you, cum still glistening on his lips. âYeah. Our little cat thief isnât going anywhere tonight.â He stood and helped pull you upright, both men sandwiching you between their hard bodies again. Distant sirens grew closer, blue and red lights flashing somewhere below, but none of you moved. Tojiâs hand slid between your legs, pushing two fingers into your cum-filled pussy and scooping out some of the mess before bringing it to your lips.
âTaste how full we made you, kitty.â
You opened your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers clean while Gojoâs hand roamed over your ass, already teasing at your hole again. The night air was cold against your sweat-slick skin, but their bodies burned hot on either side of you.
Tojiâs thick fingers stayed buried between your thighs, lazily pumping the mess of cum deeper into your swollen cunt while Gojoâs cock pressed hot and heavy against your lower back. âStill so fucking wet for us,â Toji growled, voice rough as he curled his fingers and dragged another whimper from your throat. âOur little cat canât get enough, can she?â
Gojoâs free hand slid around to cup one of your tits, thumb flicking over your nipple as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder. âLook at you, kitty. Dripping down your thighs like a good little cumslut. Bet you want us to bend you over that ledge again and fuck another load into this greedy hole.â His fingers teased your rim in slow circles, pressing just enough to make your knees buckle. âOr maybe you want both of us stretching you open at the same time. Double stuffed while the whole city watches.â
You moaned around Tojiâs fingers, hips rocking back against Gojoâs teasing touch even as your body trembled from the overstimulation. Toji pulled his hand free and slapped your ass hard, the sharp sting making you gasp. âSpeak up, cat. Tell us what that filthy mouth wants.â
âBoth,â you breathed, voice hoarse from earlier use. âWant both of you inside me again.â
Gojo laughed, low and filthy, spinning you around so your back hit the cold concrete ledge. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, hooking your legs over his hips while Toji moved in behind you. The head of Gojoâs cock nudged against your slick entrance, and Tojiâs thick length pressed between your ass cheeks, already slick with spit and cum. âThatâs our greedy kitty,â Gojo praised, pushing inside your pussy in one smooth thrust that had you crying out. âTaking us so fucking well.â
Toji spat into his palm and worked two fingers into your ass, stretching you open while Gojo started fucking you in steady, deep strokes. The double sensation had your head spinning, your walls fluttering around Gojoâs cock as Toji replaced his fingers with the blunt head of his dick. âRelax, cat. Gonna fill both these holes nice and full.â He pushed in slowly, the stretch burning sweet and sharp until he bottomed out and you were pinned between them, stuffed to the brim.
"Fuck, sheâs tight,â Toji groaned, hips snapping forward to meet Gojoâs rhythm. The two men found a brutal pace, thrusting into you in alternating strokes that left you gasping and clawing at Gojoâs shoulders. Your tits bounced with every impact, nipples brushing Gojoâs chest while Tojiâs hands gripped your ass hard enough to bruise. âLook at you, taking two cocks like you were made for it. Our perfect little thief.â
Gojoâs mouth found yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding against yours as he swallowed your moans. âThatâs it, kitty. Scream for us. Let the whole damn city hear how good weâre fucking you.â His hand slipped between your bodies to rub your swollen clit, and the added pressure pushed you straight into another orgasm. Your pussy clamped down hard, squirting around Gojoâs cock while your ass clenched around Toji. Both men groaned, fucking you through it with rough, punishing thrusts that had you shaking and babbling their names.
Toji came first, burying himself deep and flooding your ass with hot cum. The feeling triggered Gojo, who slammed in to the hilt and painted your insides white, his cock pulsing as he filled your pussy to overflowing. Cum leaked out around both lengths, running down your thighs in thick rivulets as they stayed buried inside you, grinding through the aftershocks.
âFuck,â Toji muttered, biting at your neck. âCould stay buried in this ass all night.â
Gojo grinned against your lips, still half-hard inside you. âSame. Our kittyâs got the best holes in the city.â He pulled out slowly, watching the mess drip from your used cunt before setting you on shaky legs. Toji followed, his cum trickling down your thighs as he stepped back.
You swayed for a moment, catching your breath, then your eyes flicked to the bag of stolen valuables still sitting near the ledge. A wicked little smile curved your lips. While both heroes were distracted, admiring the way their cum marked your skin, you snatched the bag and bolted for the far edge of the rooftop.
âHey!â Toji barked, lunging after you, but you were already climbing onto the ledge. The drop was dizzying, the city lights sparkling far below, but youâd done this before. You turned back with a cheeky salute, bag slung over your shoulder.
"Thanks for the fun, boys. This was very fun. Maybe we can do this another time. Bye, bye!â You blew them a kiss, then leaped off the building without hesitation. Your grapple line caught the edge of the next rooftop, swinging you safely into the shadows as the wind whipped past.
Toji reached the ledge a second too late, staring down into the darkness with a scowl. âGoddamn it. She got away again.â
Gojo leaned over beside him, still completely naked and utterly unbothered, a lazy grin on his face. âEh, let her go. She earned that bag after how hard she worked for those creampies. Besides, Iâm kinda into the whole âsexy cat burglar who keeps escaping usâ thing. Gives us a reason to chase her again.â He clapped Toji on the shoulder. âNext time Iâm bringing snacks. And maybe a bigger dick upgrade for you, Bats. You looked a little jealous back there.â
Toji just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the distant wail of sirens grew louder below. âYouâre the worst partner Iâve ever had.â
Gojo laughed, already swinging his suit back on. âLove you too, Bats. Now letâs go explain to the commissioner why we let Catwoman get away with half the cityâs diamonds. Again.â
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšFrom a food baby to.. an actual baby? à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
Tags: [MDNI]husband!nanami x foodie!wife reader. SMUT and a sprinkle of fluff. Breeding (?), p in v, oral sex (f recieving), mating press, freaks in an established relationship (married), pregnancy. I need to stop writing smut but this has been in my drafts..
Ever since you were a little kid, you looooved eating.
And it's not like your parents teaching you to try everything at least once helped as you ended up growing up to be a foodie with no pickiness when it comes to eating at all.
Enter Nanami who you met at 21, just a year from graduating college, at one of the new local bakeries which you had just discovered recently back then.
He was all crisp button downs, dark blue slacks, cuffed sleeves, messenger bag slung over his shoulderâa walking portrait of what you just wished you would be waking up to in less than 10 years.
You didn't expect to run into him any more times after you'd seen him at the pastry shop ever again, he's one of those sights you only see once in your life.
Well, you were very wrong.
That same week, same time, three days later when you went back for a pick me up, he was there. Picking up the same order you noticed he got last time, and somehow looking finer than Monday did him justice.
Just out of curiosity, you asked for the same sandwich he gotâa French Casse-croĂ»teâfresh ham and cheese hidden in a crisp baguette baked early in the morning.
So simple, yet so heavenly. Though, you underestimated your stomach's capacity of hosting the large sandwich and... Had a little food baby pressing against the linen cloth of your yellow sundress.
Nanami noticed you had purchased and consumed the same sandwich he hadâthough not a social person at all, he found himself walking over to your table and making small talk.
âIâm impressed you finished it.â He had commented, you were wiping remaining crumbs from the corners of your mouth when his voice startled you.
Immediately you had flushed a deep shade of beetroot, suddenly feeling way too conscious about your dress being a tad bit tighter around the waist, the hair sticking to your neck and the fire burning the apples of your cheeks.
Because he was there talking to you when not even three days ago you were daydreaming about the handsome stranger youâd seenâthe epitome of your type if you had one.
Grounding yourself surprisingly quickly, you had sheepishly smiled when replying âOh it sure was a challenge..â, in a shy mutter.
Then, you realised how greedy you sounded and immediately stirred to fix your words up.
âI meanâI, uh, I was just really hungry you know? At work-â you began rambling, hoping to save face in front of perfectly gelled back hair and sculptured cheekbones that had womenâs knees weak for days.
but Nanami broke out in a soft chuckle he hadnât realised he needed until a pretty stranger pulled one out of him.
He left you with his business card and called one day later like he promised.
Fast forward five years later, you still have the now-outdated business card neatly kept in your bedside table along with your husbandâs initial draft for your wedding vows which you found more authentic than the version he ended up reading to the audience on your special dayâheartwarming and emotional nonetheless.
Living with Kento has taught you a slow world you never thought existed within all of the noise and chaos.
Every page from a book is turned slowly, every step of the day is calculated with no effortâjust routine, every hour with your husband is priceless.
And you didnât imagine this side of life existed. Where every human sentiment somehow was deeper and stronger when it was shared with your person.
Living within Nanamiâs comfort zone is learning that his routine bends to you, and eventually incorporates your life into his.
Itâs learning that he loves waking up with the sheets tangled between your legs, one of his hands buried in your hair as your face is pressed against his bare chest.
That he adores pressing reverent kisses to your neck, forehead, palm, temple. With a burning gaze that says more than any verbal statement ever could.
However, you learn that your husband relishes in afteroon reading with you snugly tucked by his side on the loveseat in your makeshift library corner, more than the normal person does.
Which is exactly where you are, pressed against his side, head on his shoulder, half of your brain paying attention to the words on the page heâs reading, the other half dipping into a dangerous side as you feel his warmth spread over you.
Youâre insatiable, just hours ago Kento cooked you a full-course meal because you woke up âfeeling emptyâ not really knowing what is wrong with you and thinking that just a hearty meal will do.
Creamy alfredo pasta did not in fact solve your issue. Now, once again with an empty stomach, you hold in the urge to open your mouth and disturb your husbandâs reading.
Just what were you even going to complain about? Itâs not like you were hungry.
And then it clicks.
Slowly, the corners of your lips gently pull upward as your fingers trace up his torso, feeling the dip of his hard abs, the rough lines of scars underneath his breathable pijama shirt.
God he is a sight for sore eyes.
The cogs turn in your head as you start to wriggle your way out from underneath his muscular arm draped over your figure, which was holding you close to him, palm on your hip.
His head turns from the book balanced between his fingers, eyes zeroing on your shifting figure that was slowly crawling over his bulky legs.
An eyebrow of his subtly lifts subconsciously as he carefully watches your every moment. The book in his hand lowers and closesâpage forgotten, bookmark nowhere to be seenâas you sit yourself on his lap facing him, knees digging into the soft leather of the loveseat.
Using your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself, you slightly fight back a smirk when you feel Kento's hands find their place on your waist almost instantly after you get comfortable.
This position is no stranger to either of youâwhich is why Nanami puts the pieces of the puzzle together quicker than anyone else could. So this is what you meant when you said you felt empty?
It makes even more sense when he remembers that a few days ago your period tracker said you would be ovulating soon. Absentmindedly, his fingers trace gentle figures on your hips where his hands have lowered to.
You peer down at him, swimming in his alluring hazel eyes full of an unspeakable kind of loveâfeeling yourself melt into him.
He breaks the silence, "What is it, darling?" Even though he knows the clear answer, he asks.
Drawing closer to him, your head dips past his chin and you go to press a light kiss to his throat, feeling him swallow when you do. The familiar shape of him starts to grow beneath you.
Again, you feel pride creep up your spine, but you push it down and kiss the side of his neckâitching closer to his collarbone with each kiss peppered. You hear his breath lose it's steadyness little by little.
After a bit of teasing, you finally answer with a shrug "I feel..weird.â Letting a defeated sigh slip past your lips as they press up and at the peak of his right cheekbone.
âWeird?â He chokes out. âWhat do you mean by weird, honey?â
You hum as you shift over him, deliberately circling letters over his lap and dragging your thinly covered warmth against him.
âI guess I feel kind of.. empty.â The sultry tone in which your voice has dropped to makes blood rush at an embarrassing speed to Nanamiâs cockâstiffening like a teenager underneath you.
âYeah?â He hums.
You bite your lips, tongue then tracing your canines as you run your hands over his broad chest.
âYeah.â
âI can do something about that.â His hand curves around your ass, firmly grabbing onto the skinânot enough to hurt, enough to have you dripping even more.
Your eyes lift to his faceâclean,shaved, no hair to see, pink lips, drooping eyes. âYou can?â You muse.
He smiles, a smirk he tried to suppress knowing what youâre going to ask for next.
âLike what?â
And before your question can even land, he gets up. Two hands under your thighs, effortlessly carrying your body.
Carefully, he turns and lays you down on the loveseat. Bracing his broad frame by the armrestsâface dangerously close to yours.
Noses brushing, musk and manliness oozing out of him so much your legs close and you can feel yourself pulsing down there.
The roles are reversed and you are so whipped for your husband itâs not even funny anymore. How he has completely turned the tables.
A pin drops somewhere and Kentoâs lips gently latch onto yours. Warmth and love exploding in your chest. Neediness clawing at you as your hands wrap around his shoulderâs.
He kisses like youâre a forbidden fruit he canât resist tastingâhappily accepting his sin. Basking in it when a swipe of his tongue under your lips opens a whole world he knows at the back of his hand.
You feel him exploring youâone hand running up your thighâpressing a thumb against the wet material of your panties.
A moan from you vibrates against his lips. He detaches to hear more as his fingers slip past the lace and dive right into you.
The needy whine that escapes you has him thanking the gods for your paths crossingâfor the universe giving him such a good wife.
His mind starts to run wild at the thought of what heâs going to do to you.
Thought he would never push or admit it. Nanami has found himself getting turned on way too often lately at the sight of you bloated, belly full of food after a hearty meal.
At the beginning of your relationship, he tried to ignore the sightâfiguring youâd get insecure or uncomfortable if he looked at it for too long.
But heâs been having a hard time not relishing in your well-fed shape.
Heâd never admit he cooks more food than usual lately to see you drape your hand under the protruding curve and huff out like youâre in pain from eating so much.
Because the sight of you so full drives him insane.
So insane the thought of using a condom doesnât even cross his mind when you have sex. It doesnât help that you have no intention of reminding him.
What would you look like if you were full of him?
His child.
A walking testament of him feeding you well.
A sharp moan snaps him out of his thoughts and he kneels down, taking his slicked fingers from your pussy and spreading your legs wide in front of him.
Youâre blushing like crazy. Heat crawling up your spine, bundling up at your neck and cheeksâheâs barely even touched you.
Nanamiâs big hands slide under your legs, hooking onto the thin material that has snapped back in place and pulling it off.
His face comes closer to your pussy subconsciouslyâbody begging for a taste before his mind can even catch up.
And he dives in, hands hooked on your thighs, pulling you down the seat and closer to his face so he can lick up your slicked lips.
You become putty in his hands, back already arching off the seat. He sucks and sucks, greets with open mouth kissesâdesperately devours like itâs his first time on earth.
Nose casually nudging your entrance, making your body jerk so violently that you almost cry at the blissful feeling.
Kentoâs tongue slides into your walls, tasting your sweet nectar straight from the source and losing himself in its sweetness.
Your mind starts going blank, babbles of complete nonsense spilling out of your mouth as he jumpstarts your orgasm.
âHoneyâdonât stop-pleaseââ
He doesnât, instead, a finger slips inâunexpectedly, but so welcome one your desperate hole starts clenching around him.
âShit Iâm going toââ You try to tell him the coil in your lower belly is going to snap but it does before youâre finished, coating his tongue, chin and nose in you and only you.
Panting, you try to catch your breath but your husbandâs jaw doesnât put itself to rest as he continues to lap up every drop of your juices over your sensitive clit.
Back arching off the loveseat, high-pitched moans rip from your chest from the overstimulation.
âKentoââ You whine.
He pulls back silent, shiny chin and drowsy eyes looking up at you from his positionâa sinful picture that has heat pooling in between your legs again.
âYes, sweetheart?â The urge to ride his face when his deep voice calls out to you with those nicknames is immense, but you want him.
âInsideâplease go-â
âYour words, darling, use them.â Your hands find his forearm rested over your spread thigh and you dig your fingernails into them.
âKen, pleaseâplease fuck me.â
A frown overtakes his face, lips disapprovingly pulling down into a pityful pout.
âIâm not going to fuck you, honey. Iâve already told you that.â
And itâs true, Nanami does not fuck. He is a stranger to the act of using someone as a tool for him to get off, belittle them into a good fuck or a bad one.
He loves.
And he loves you so much.
âLove me, Ken.â
A small smirk breaks out.
You have him.
He climbs over you, heavyâmuscular thighs barely fitting between your spread out legs where he presses his clothed hard-on against your slit.
From the sensitivity, you almost moan against him.
His lips latch onto yours again, hungrily yet deliberately finding their way down your throatâmaking you taste your remains on his tongue.
Your hands travel down to the hem of his thin cotton sweatpants and hook your fingers both onto that seam, and his boxerâs waistband.
Simultaneously, the two layers that were between the both of you drop to the floor. Thick 7,5 inches to match his 6 feet of height.
Girthy, one prominent vein leading to the shaft and bringing your eyes to his dusty blonde happy trail.
Sculpted v-line that has you going feral for days.
Gosh, you really love your husband in all of his glory.
Wrapping your handâand barely being able to fully grasp itâaround him, you stroke a few times before rubbing him against your bare pussy.
A shock of electricity shooting up your spine at the feeling of his precum mixing with your slick. Nanami groans against your lips before delicately pulling your hand away and taking over.
Already nudging at the entrance has you biting down his soft lips to hold back a moan.
The tip slips inside after some coaxing, your fingernails dig into his shoulderâs for stability, legs shaking due to the pressure.
Kento tries to tether you, âThatâs it, love. Relax, I got you.â
And he really does.
He pulls away from your lips every time he pushes himself a bit more inside, carefully watching your faceâsearching for any sign of pain or backing out.
Not once do you display any, so he bottoms out. Balls pressing against the soft skin of your ass over the expensive leather.
While you adjust, still inside, he rearranges both of your legs to rest over his shoulders as he hunches and looms over you.
Slowly, he starts moving. The deliberate drags of his cock between your velvety walls tattoo themselves into your gummy brain.
Eyes flutteringâopening and closing from pleasure, you feel yourself start to ascend to that personal heaven he always takes you to.
You clench around his size, unable to relax but enjoying the burn so much.
A hand of yours claws at his shirt, trying to bring him closer, harder. He wastes no time in delivering his sweet wifes request.
One thrust and you feel him in your throat, pale pink tip pushing past your cervixâprobably going to bruise it later on.
But you love it.
And he continues. In and out, back and forth. A frothy creamy ring building at the base where your bodies meet.
He sees the bulge of him in your stomach, the imprint of his cock peeking through and his mind goes haywire.
The image of your protruding stomach after a meal, the idea of you leaking with his cum running down your thighs, the thought of a little baby with your genetics growing inside of your swollen belly.
Nanamiâs control breaks with a hard snap.
His hips slow down, gently stroking your insides now. No longer pulling you apart. But he shifts, lowers his chest down, teeth finding your nipples and cock angled at a new direction.
You try to focus on what heâs doing still. Then the controlled thrust comesâslow, but so deep you know this is how he can get a baby in you.
Now, you feel full.
And you can only hope he leaves you this way.
âMmh-Kento?â
He detaches his head from your tit. âYes, sweetie?â
His cock slides out your pussy until only the very tip of it is inside before he rams himself home again.
âOh my goââ you get cut off from your vision going blank at the pleasure. ââKento, stay- inside.â
You clench around him, not wanting him to leave.
âOh?â He knows what you want. Heâs your husband after all. Doting, careful.
âPlease.â You breathe out, pleading, clawing at his back under his shirt. His pace picks up just enough to be rhythmic but intimate.
âYou want me to fill you up?â
Not even a beat goes by before you whimper. âYesyesyes.â
So he stays inside. He finds your clit with thick fingers, gives her enough attention for you to get on cloud 9.
Slams into you till you spasm around his cock and then fills you up. Paints your insides with him.
And suddenly, you no longer feel empty.
But maybe you need a few more rounds to ensure you will be full of him for some time.
At 9 months pregnant though, you desperately need to feel empty. The weight of your son making you feel like an overfilled dumpling about to pop.
Your husband has his large hands that got you in this position in the first place on your lower back, applying pressure and massaging your aching hips while you hunch over the edge of the hospital bed as your lower half bounces on a gym ball.
âKen, I curse you and your heavy baby.â
He doesnât know if he should laugh or comfort you. No, heâs not vexed at all by you cursing himâhe knows how his heavy son has been giving you a hard time in your first pregnancy so heâs not going to deny he is the cause of it.
In the end, he chooses the latter. âJust a bit more, honey. Youâre strong, heâll be here in no time.â
âHe better be or Iâll strangle you!â
He got his nine months of your stomach poking out from under your clothes, nine months of you looking like a goddess around the house and glowing more than the sun.
Nine months of it driving him crazy how you are swollen with him.
Who knew his wife being a foodie would turn him on so muchâŠ
Anyway,
Nanami Kento is right where he wants to be.
Fanart by aradiart (middle one) and k_u_r_o_2_ both on X. Oh and a đ€ for u!
"..just calling to say goodnight" trend with ex husband!toji nsfw. petnames, afab!reader.
The phone didn't ring for long; not before a gruff "Yeah." was heard from the other side, along with some rustling. You muted to contain your laughter. It's been almost a year now since you called him just because. Toji sighed, "Hello? Don't start your bullshit again, doll."
And there's the notorious pet name that he absolutely refuses to drop. Unmuting yourself, you replied. "Hi, Toji. Yeah um-" you muted again, a giggle slipping through. "Yeah I just wanted to call."
Toji went silent for a moment. "Yeah? For what?" Toji hesitated, "If it's about megs, I did not send him to school with medicine in his backpack - swear."
You clicked your tongue. "What? What the hell are you talking about? I was just calling to say goodnight." He responded with more rustling, which sounded as if he were readjusting himself in bed. "To say goodnight." He repeated in a monotone voice skeptically. "You called me outta nowhere just to say goodnight?" This is where you initially were gonna end the video and hang up, but he continued.
"Listen baby, y'know if you miss me I'm always here." He said in a low tone. "Don't gotta make somethin' up just to hear my voice doll. I damn sure missed hearing yours." You heard a faint grunt. "Cmon, talk to me mama."
Just like that - Toji took control. You could already feel a familiar heat pooling in your stomach that came from hearing his husky voice. "I - I'm not doing this with you, Toji." Even you could tell that your remark had no effect whatsoever. He let out a throaty chuckle. "Callin' me to say goodnight, knowing that cunt gets wet at the sound of my voice." Before you could refute, he went on, "I know you are baby, don't gotta deny it."
"Cus' I" you picked up a faint repetitive slick sound in the background. Had he been doing that the entire time? "miss that fuckin' pussy, doll. You don't even know - ..shit.. - don't even know how much." His breathing got heavier. "Toji Iâ"
"Bet you're dripping right about now, yeah? Just waiting for me to come fill that tight fuckin' hole, huh? Wearing those cute little panties tonight, aren't'ya? I fuckin' bet." You hadn't even realized your hand was slowly drifting further down your body, halting at the waistband of said panties. "...Maybe I am." Sure, you could entertain this for a minute or two.
"Dirty girl." The smirk he wore could be heard in his voice. "My dirty girl.. fuck. Use your fingers, baby. Wanna hear that wet pussy." A soft moan slipped from your lips, which only fueled his burning desire. "Fuuck yeah. That's right doll, listen t'me."
"Toji." You called his name in such a breathy tone that almost surprised yourself. "We shouldn't." You replied, attempting to convince yourself more than anything.
"But we can, baby. Go ahead n' rub that pretty clit f'me. You can do that, I know it. Reeal slow for Toji."
You listened to his command, no longer holding back. "Mmh, yeah, good fucking girl. You're dripping for me, I hear her. Beggin' for my cock.. yeah."
You moaned unashamedly into your phone, mind already going blank. "That's right.. bet you're wet enough for me to just slide this cock right in.. shit, yeah. I know it." His pace quickened - so you followed suit. "Ji, 'm close."
"Hold it. I know you can mama. Be a real good fuckin' girl n' hold that shit in." You could hear the sound of him sloppily fisting his weeping dick faster.
"Miss that perfect lil' pussy - those fat tits... shit. That face - that tongue. You miss me? Miss this cock? Huh baby?" Toji could only listen to those pitiful, sweet whimpers.
"Yes â Yes Ji!"
You werenât going to last much longer, not like this. His vulgar words struck you directly at your core. "Cum for me, mama."
Your fluids landed everywhere onto your sheets, soaking the bed below. Your breathing slowed as everything settled.
your mind felt hazy as toji slammed his hips into you, his thick, girthy cock stretching you out so deliciously. lewd screams left your parted lips as you felt his leaky tip brush against the spongy spot that made your eyes roll back.
"fuckâjii!"
low, raspy grunts escaped his chest as he threw his head back and grabbed your ass. a few strands of dark hair clung to his damp forehead, and his face contorted with pleasure. he was always so handsy, letting his rough hands roam all over you. he spread your cheeks apart so he could see your pretty pussy gushing around his length.
"shitâhaahâarch that back for me, baby."
this was his favorite position: doggy style. toji loved watching your ass jiggle as you arched your back, your face smushed against the mattress, and your hair mussed up.
"tojiâfeel sâgood," you moaned helplessly.
"fucking slut."
he felt your walls clench around him, his hips stuttering as your sweet cunt dripped down his slick length at his words. toji let out a small laugh, clearly amused.
"you like gettinâ called a slut, doll?" toji asked, leaving a loud smack on your ass.
"fuckâyesyesyes" you repeated pathetically. you could feel your body going numb as your mind began to run in circles.
toji reached for your hair, pushing it so you could turn your face to him. his jade eyes were dark as he smushed your cheeks together, admiring how wrecked you looked: black mascara running down your face, drool dripping from your chin and coating his fingers, your sweet half-lidded eyes staring at him with need.
"whore."
this earned you a final whiny, cute mewl. as you gushed and squirted all over his cock, your head fell back onto the soft pillow. you could almost feel toji's grin behind you.
the sound of his fingers suddenly connecting with your skin again, making a loud smack, snapped you out of your thoughts. you turned your head back around to look at him and found him already smiling at you.
àšà§ You tried to sneak out after a one-night stand. Gojo wakes up â calm, shirtless, and not okay with being left behind. What follows is possessive touches, quiet threats, and a reminder of who you belong to.
I wanted to write something that felt like a slow unravel â soft words, sharp intentions, and Gojo being terrifyingly calm in the way only he can be.
just a lil treat for the yandere girlies ⥠hope it ruins you in the best way. mlist
PART 2 and PART 3
gojo satoru x reader
minors do not interact. this piece is intended for 18+ audiences.
The floor was cold beneath your bare feet as you tiptoed across the suite.
Gojoâs apartment was too clean â pristine white walls, muted city lights pouring through wide windows, and expensive silence that made your breath feel too loud. Your dress from the night before was clutched in one hand, wrinkled and still smelling faintly like sweat and cologne. You hadnât even put your shoes back on yet.
He was still in bed, you were sure of it. Heâd been wrapped in those dark gray sheets when you slid out, dead silent. You hadnât dared to glance back.
Until now.
âYâknow,â a voice drawled behind you â slow, amused, terrifyingly awake. âIf you really wanted to leave quietly, you probably shouldnât have stolen my shirt.â
You froze mid-step, breath caught like prey in a trap.
He was sitting up now. Hair messier than before. One long arm braced behind him, the other pushing the sheets off his bare torso. His blindfold was gone, tossed somewhere on the nightstand, and his icy blue eyes caught the dim light like sharpened crystal.
You swallowed.
âIt was cold,â you offered, lamely.
âOh, totally,â he said, voice light and sarcastic. âThatâs why youâre sneaking out like you killed somebody.â
You turned slowly. âI didnât think you'd careââ
Gojo laughed. Not loud â just sharp, like a knife sliding across glass.
âYou didnât think Iâd care?â he repeated. âSweetheart⊠Iâve had your name circling my brain since the second you touched me.â
He stood, bare feet whispering across the hardwood as he stalked toward you â tall, loose-limbed, terrifyingly calm.
You backed up.
Bad idea.
He moved faster, one hand pressing against the wall just beside your head, caging you without even touching you.
âThatâs mine,â he said softly, flicking the hem of the shirt you were wearing. His shirt â white, oversized, the one that hung just a little too low on you and hit just high enough on your thighs to drive him insane.
âYou mean the shirt?â
His head tilted. âI mean you.â
You went quiet, breath shaky. âWe hooked up once.â
âSo?â Gojo smiled, slow and bright â but his eyes didnât match. They burned. âYou donât do that with someone like me and leave. Thatâs not how this works.â
You opened your mouth, maybe to argue. But the words died on your tongue the second his fingers hooked under the shirtâs hem and pushed up â slow, deliberate, warm palms skating along the skin of your thighs.
âW-Waitââ You shifted, but he just stepped closer, pressing the full heat of his body into yours.
âDonât run,â he whispered, lips brushing your ear now. âYouâll only make me chase you. And you wonât like how that ends.â
Your breath hitched. His fingers kept moving â slipping higher, thumbs brushing over the crease of your hips, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.
âI liked seeing you in my shirt,â he said softly. âBut I like you better out of it.â
You shivered.
Then he tugged â not gently. The shirt lifted over your head, arms caught for a moment before he pulled it free and tossed it aside. You were bare beneath, breathless and pressed against the wall like you didnât know what to say.
âPretty little thing,â Gojo murmured, fingers trailing over your bare stomach. âYou really thought you could disappear from me? After the way you moaned my name last night?â
You blushed â visibly. It made his eyes darken.
He kissed you. Rough, breath-stealing, like he was trying to taste every sound youâd ever made. You clutched at his shoulders â and it hit you all over again just how strong he was. How fast he could crush you. But he didnât.
Not yet.
âBed,â he said. âNow.â
He didnât yell â didnât need to. You obeyed without thinking, legs shaky as you moved. He followed like a storm.
The sheets were still warm when he pushed you down, straddling you easily. His hands roamed â over your breasts, down your sides, fingers memorizing every inch like heâd been given a test on it.
âYou looked so cute sneaking out,â he murmured, lips grazing your skin as he moved lower. âBut youâre not going anywhere now. You hear me?â
You nodded â breathless, wrecked, unsure if it was fear or desire curling low in your stomach.
Maybe both.
He kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and lingering, before glancing up with those impossible blue eyes.
âIâm gonna remind you exactly who you belong to.â
And when he finally lowered his mouth to you â all heat, tongue, and expert cruelty â you forgot your own name.
Nanami is a dream of a husband. Attentive, faithful and romantic. But most importantly, Nanami loves it when you ask him to do things for you.
"Kento," Your sweet voice pleasantly echoes around Nanami as he turns around to face you, soft smile plastered over his handsome features. "Lid won't open." You hand him the jar, and he feels over the moon at being needed.
"Of course." He doesn't need to be told twice, you can see his biceps flex under his thin sleeping shirt the moment he pops open a lid he may or may not have purposefully tightened a little bit too much last time he used that jar. Perhaps that is Nanami's biggest sin, that he perhaps, sometimes, manipulates situations so he can be needed by you.
It's always little things, little things that help him feel more in control of the situation, of the marriage, of you. Can you really blame him for wanting to be needed? For wanting to be useful? For wanting to take the blame off your shoulders and just sit back and relax, enjoy life while he pleases you, while he makes an effort, while he breaks a sweat.
Nanami just thrives on it. He thrives in the way you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek after he has done whatever silly little task you had commanded him to do. Anybody who looked at it from the outside would think that he is just a pussywhipped man who will grovel at your feet the second you ask. And they wouldn't be wrong. But they are forgetting the important detail, the most important thing about it all. This is an issue about control. And Nanami has all of it.
But perhaps the situation where Nanami loves to monopolize being needed the most is sex. Nanami could drown in the way your mind just drifts away and your pretty cunt takes control of your body. And he loves, the gets drunk on how he is the only one who can get you to cum.
"Kento," Your voice is all high pitched now, whiny and delicate and needy. "Kento, please."
He knows what you want, he has his cock buried deep inside and his tempo tortuously slow, one hand over your hips and the other one circling at your clit with methodical precision. He knows its not enough, and yet, he can't help but be a little cruel, want to see you cry for him some more. Want to see you beg.
"Please what, sweetheart?" He will whisper, smiling gently, moving a little faster. The tip of his cock now pressing against your g-spot consistently. Your eyes roll back and your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red imprints that he wears with pride.
"Please, Ken," You gasp, clawing at his skin. "Please, make me cum. Please." Your eyes are watery, you can barely think of anything that isn't him. And Nanami smiles, doing what he knows will bring you to cloud nine, cloud ten and cloud eleven. He knows you better than anybody else, he knows your body better than anybody else. After all, he was your first kiss, your first time, your first everything. It was only natural that he gave you your first orgasm.
He just won't ever tell you that he loves having control over you in such a way.
