Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind:
1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge?
2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h.
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.
And then it’s all black.
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”
“It’s al-”
“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
…
Nahhh.
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit.
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.
All for him.
It’s too much.
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.
You.
And then he’s cumming.
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
…
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
…
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture.
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do.
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”
Except maybe those.
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to.
Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present.
“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”
You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”
He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”
With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-
And then, it hits you.
Suddenly.
Something smells sweet.
Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.
“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.
“Hm?”
And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”
“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.
You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince.
Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought-
No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently.
Three weeks.
Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?
It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table.
Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.
This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control.
Especially now.
But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.
And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.
You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”
“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”
“Satoru’s also-”
“So what?”
Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.”
You shake your bleary head in protest.
“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”
Nanami stills - everything stills.
Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”
Shit.
Shit shit shit-
“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.
Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.
Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now.
Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier.
Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-
As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”
Slam!
“Out.”
It’s a threat.
That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”
Before you finally understand, it’s a command.
There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.
Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up?
Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him.
With you at lucky number one.
First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him.
Oh.
Oh.
And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”
It’s chaos.
They understood - perhaps long before even you did.
Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh.
Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.
Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.”
Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now.
Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery.
But it was undeniable, he was an alpha.
And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.
“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”
Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him.
You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin.
“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”
There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time.
Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”
Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”
SLAM!
Finally alone.
Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.
And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”
“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”
Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.
But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”
“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”
His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost.
Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.
You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough.
Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit.
“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”
Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier.
But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out.
In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs.
Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.
“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”
And then you feel him still - alert, ready.
Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”
Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening.
“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”
“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”
Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.
The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”
And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath.
“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”
Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.
“Correct.”
It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you.
You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants.
“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”
With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.
And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry.
He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs.
“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”
He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.
Like he was addicted.
“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”
You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.
Yeah, he was addicted.
Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice.
Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy.
“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”
You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.
“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”
“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”
And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy.
“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”
Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-
And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close.
“Open.”
It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.
Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago.
“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?”
Thwack!
Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words.
And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that.
Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”
Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?
Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.
“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-”
Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences.
He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.
Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale.
“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”
And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation.
Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily.
It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air.
And you do, too - though, for much different reasons.
Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-
“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”
You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-”
A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.
And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now.
“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”
Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out.
Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat.
“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”
As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily.
That’s enough to make Gojo lose it.
And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.
“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin.
“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”
For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose.
“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”
But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out.
“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”
You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion.
“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”
“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”
How ironic.
All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.
“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-”
Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”
And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.
Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap.
To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow.
The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-
“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”
He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off.
Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot.
You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”
“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”
And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths.
Every single inch.
“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”
You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.
Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full.
And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-
Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums.
The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you.
Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.
You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.
Finally yours. Finally his.
“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”
And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.
You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you.
“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”
But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.
Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”
Bang!
Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.
Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”
It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.
Just enough that he can pull out-
“Toru, what-”
“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”
His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life.
“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”
Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.
His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls.
Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy.
Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already.
Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!
It’s so shameful and you love it.
And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!
Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening.
You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-
“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”
Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily.
And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears.
Because you were sucking him up madly.
Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest.
And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram.
Again. And again. And again and again and-
“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”
You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.
Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before.
“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”
It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.
“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”
One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”
And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits.
Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.
Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks.
Over and over, he’s cumming nothing.
“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth.
Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters.
“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-” Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”
Oh.
And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.
But for now, all you register is soft.
Warm.
With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.
“Did- did you teleport-”
“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size.
You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”
“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”
---
Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month.
Possibly not walking.
Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app.
Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually.
Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.
A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.
Synopsis. Tall, gloomy, and really good with the g-string. There’s nothing that Geto Suguru - rockstar, campus heartthrob, lead guitarist of the Sorcerers - doesn’t have. Except for a new song idea. And you, his cute new muse.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, rockstar!Geto, rock band AU, meet-cutes, he’s down bad, song-writing, you’re his muse, Geto with tattoos and piercings, parties, body shots, concerts, campus gossip, pússydrúnk Geto, oraI (fem rec.), spìtting, chokìng p talking, fìngering, ringed fingers, he’s feraI, in the backseat of his car, he’s BIG, D piercings, cervìx kìssing, running from it, headIocks, manhandIing, slight impactpIay, rough s, dùmbifìcation, creampìes, cùmplay, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.6k
A/N. Y’all wanted so daddy Tony provided mwahahah…
“P-please…” Drool cascades down your mouth at an incredible pace, and your neck feels numb from how long you’ve been holding it up.
From how long you’ve just been staring at him—Geto Suguru.
Fresh off of his latest concert, he’s delving his tongue between your folds like an animal. Like he’d been starved all throughout the night- and he can’t seem to stop. He’s got one ringed hand pressed down on your stomach, and the other rovering across your sensitive nub.
You feel him purse his pretty lips and spit, letting the syrupy knot dribble down your thighs like a waterfall.
Geto throws his long, inky hair back; that curved piercing on his lip glittering with the wads of your mess. And he groans, “I have to make it up to my gorgeous muse in some way, yeah?” Especially after the best set of his entire life.
He was insane.
And you’re wondering how the hell you even got here.
.
.
.
“Fuck-” Geto sighs between his clenched teeth, one hand gripping onto his scribbled sheets. The other runs through his hair until it’s all unruly. A few bystanders swoon- it almost makes him feel better.
He’s pacing through the corridors of campus, solely because his bandmates had banned him from pacing inside the practice room. Long legs taking about five normal steps a stride, he absentmindedly nods at all the starstruck passerbys, the fans.
Being in the midst of writing a new song usually does get him this way - for about a day. Two days. Maximum.
But it’s been weeks and he hasn’t been able to jot even a single verse down, hasn’t scrambled together anything for the upcoming gig. Gojo said it was alright - that they could scrounge up something off the old EP - but Geto knew it rested on him, as lead guitarist, and vocalist.
Imagine, an opening act with no fresh songs.
If only he could just write—but what about? Heartbreak? Love? He’d rather write about Yaga.
“Fuck!” He spits again- just in time with your very own startled profanity. A pretty voice.
A cute bump! before the two of you stumble backwards, colliding into each other. A plumage of papers burst into the air, and start showering the smooth tile below. Geto’s down at the mess and internally groaning; all those half-written, mostly-crossed songs mixed in with what looked like your lecture notes. Perfect.
Without looking up, he’s bending down to rifle through them, when-
“Oh, you’re in a band?”
“Yes?” Geto snaps his head up, somewhat shocked that you’re speaking to him, even though he knows he shouldn’t be. And then Geto Suguru - campus heartthrob, gets a laundry list of numbers after every concert, the untouchable - catches a glimpse of you and just…stares.
With his raven brows slightly raised, and the shapely curve of his mouth parting. Ever-so-slightly.
“Hi.”
You have to fight back a smile, “Hi.” Was that seriously the red tint of a blush crawling across his handsome cheekbones?
Oh, he can’t stop staring.
It’s long enough that you’re clearing your throat, dropping your gaze as you pick up your own papers. “I should have probably started off with that. Sorry I uh- I just see you’ve been writing songs.”
“Trying to,” he huffs. Half-joking.
And then the intricate metal of his ring brushes your own fingertips as you hand him one of his sheets; less song lyrics and more ugly caricatures of Nanami. He lingers the touch. It’s electric.
It makes the forefront of his fingers twitch. Almost jolt. And they itch towards you as if trying to prolong the skin-to-skin contact, as if trying to hold onto a pen.
It suddenly hits Geto - he needs to write.
“Hey uh- do you have a- thank you.” His voice trails off as you catch his drift and quickly hand him a pen, Geto then rapidfire scrawls down a few words. Phrases. Not even entire sentences, just an explosion of feelings that pulsed like the thumping of his own heart.
And then someone calls out his name - perhaps in greeting, perhaps in a yell to move off of the middle of the hallway - and his hand stops writing. Fuck- what was that? He looks at you again, and hands you back the pen, “I promise I’m not usually this unsmooth.” Holding out his hand for a handshake, your palm fits in his and he hears nothing but melodies in his head. “The name’s Geto, Geto Suguru. But you can call me Suguru, all my friends do. I’m in the band ‘Sorcerers.’”
You’re introducing yourself with your own name and he almost has the urge to write that down, too. Humming, “It’s alright, band stuff, I assume?”
“Band stuff.” You were walking with him now, side-by-side.
“Keyboard?”
“Guitar.” It made sense - the tattoos that crept all over his strong, beefy arms, those twinkling piercings. What didn’t make sense was just why he felt the need to show it all off for you; like the minutes before a big concert, his fingers trembled. But he grins, and it’s something devilish. “And vocals.”
Walking backwards now so that your gorgeous, gorgeous face can face him. You slow down your walk and he’s realizing that you’ve arrived at your class.
He’s realizing that he just might not see you again.
And he wanted to see more of you.
A lot more of you.
A few of your classmates throw the two of you looks as they pass, walking inside the class. Geto was a bit of a campus legend; and for as popular as he was, seeing him talk to someone outside of his band - especially during his song-writing blues - was rare. Exceptionally rare.
So he bites the inside of his cheek, “Actually…you think you’d wanna see it in person sometime? Like—tonight?”
“Oh?”
.
.
.
“Man, a grown-ass man should not be giggling like that.”
“I would hate to remind you that you do nothing but giggle.”
“I’m just special like that, Nanamin~” Gojo winks at the blond-haired drummer, who makes to throw down his drumsticks before paying attention to the concert setlist instead. Anything but him.
Unfortunately, Gojo does not have that willpower and was entirely too invested in whatever had his best friend acting like a middle-schooler with a crush. Bright-eyed. Flush-faced. Glued to his phone since before rehearsal started. Skipping around the corners of the practise room—skipping, he swears.
He throws a wadded up ball of paper - yet another one of Geto’s failed lyrical attempts - at the back of his head. It hits. And he doesn’t even notice.
Shoko herself looks up from her phone, “But in all honesty, what is up with you today?”
“Did a new type of guitar drop or—” Gojo grumbles from his other guitar station, looking above the metal rim of his glasses. Yes, the ones he wore indoors.
Geto pulls himself away from his glaring screen with a low, mindless, “Huh?”
“For fuck’s sake what’s got you so-”
“Hi, sorry- I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Just then, you walk in. Door opening; there’s no way you could’ve gotten in without invitation. And there’s no way you weren’t invited by Geto.
Because, immediately, your eyes meet his deep, amethyst ones. Like two ships at sail, you’re beaming a smile at all of them - but the brightest one for him. Going to stand at his side as he plunges his phone back in his trousers. And then he gets it.
Oh, they get it.
Nanami blinks.
Haibara waves.
Shoko takes a picture (with flash, of course.)
Gojo whistles.
And then Gojo promptly gets smacked upside the head - by two different hands, two different people. Geto makes a note of wiping off his palm before introducing the rotation of amateur musicians and visitors to each other.
“Now what she’s really here for isn’t your dumbasses.” He’s rolling his eyes, pulling on the lightning purple guitar of his. “It’s for the music-” He tilts his head with a smile, “-and me.”
You were here for a few demonstrations, after bumping into Geto and exchanging numbers - to which they gladly pump out the best of their best for a pretty girl. Hell, Geto thinks he even sees Nanami and Shoko putting in a lil’ extra effort, and can’t help but strum even louder.
Letting the electric twang of his guitar take over.
It still rings in the air after they finish a runthrough of their first three songs. And you’re clapping fervently by the end of it.
“That was amazing.”
“Why thank you, sweetheart-”
“Why thank you, gorgeous.” Geto quickly takes over, silently glaring at Gojo to leave. He gets the message - albeit reluctantly, and soon enough is being dragged by Nanami, Haibara, and Shoko out for some fresh air and a brief break outside the room.
Leaving the two of you alone.
“So…”
“So.” Geto’s scratching behind his neck, where there was a massive inky tattoo of a dragon. Snaking. Fuck- when has he ever had this much trouble talking to…well, anyone, really?
And he’s clearing his throat, not letting the silence drag out for much longer before the thick fabric of his guitar strap loops over your own neck. Safely swaddled. You’re looking up at him with such adorable confusion as he snickers, “Wanna learn how to play?”
“Hell yeah.” And before long your fingers are twisting over a few chords - tangling. He’s attempting to teach you about the G chord and the E major, and you’re attempting not to fall to your knees.
After a few unsuccessful tries, he’s catching onto your desperation and gesturing for you to sit on the carpeted floor. Perhaps to teach you hands-on, perhaps to make you relax- but whatever it was, you certainly didn’t expect him to sidle up behind you.
For his toned pecs to press up against your shoulders, you could hear Geto’s gravelly breath graze the shell of your ear. He leans over, his lengthy hair tickling your neck. “Like…” Much larger hands covering yours, “-this.”
And then he’s just so gentle.
You’re not sure what exactly you expected, but he holds your hands in his like glass. Oh-so-softly helping your fingerpads prick at the strings of his guitar, “S’easier this way.”
“Yeah–” you’re breathing out, practically in his lap with the way that his long legs were curling underneath yours, nowhere to go. And his tone core presses against your back, weight leaning slightly on you so that he can see what you do.
You don’t know what you’re doing.
You grin once your hapless chords actually start to formulate into something that sounds like it’s part of a song. Something slow. Almost sensual. “It’s beautiful- what song is this, I don’t think it’s one you played?”
“Because it’s not.” He’s purring from behind, piercing catching the light as he grins. “You really like it~?”
Something was dripping darkness in his voice, and your breath catches. “Y-yes.” He was taking over completely. Guiding your hands with his experienced ones, they slide looooong and slow down the neck of the guitar.
From the back of Geto’s throat, he’s murmuring a barely-audible few words. “Come and get it now. Come and get it now.” Lowered eyes gliding in a feline manner to you, “Baby show me what you’re doing- hm.”
You snap out of your little bubble as he stops abruptly.
Looking somewhat sheepish, “It’s a work in progress.”
“I think it might be my favorite already.” You admit. And you don’t know whether it’s your imagination - you don’t know whether you’re projecting - but you could’ve sworn that his heat does a thunderous ba-dump–! from where his chest was plastered to your body from behind.
You’re yelping, jostled as he pulls you in even closer. “That so? Maybe you can help me write it then?”
“Me?” You balk, “How-”
The plump end of his lips curl, sinfully. It was almost unfair how he could look so attractive without even trying- “Just by sitting there. Just by being here. It helps.”
“By being here with you?”
“Being here with me.” Confirming. And by the way he was gazing upon you through his peripheral vision, fingerpads still tracing your digits, your knuckles, even though you weren’t playing anything. “S’that a problem?”
You find it hard to swallow. “Not at all.”
Close.
You two were too close.
And that wouldn’t have been a problem if you were moving away—but the fact of the matter is that you were moving closer. Your lashes flutter, and his own dilated pupils alternate in a triangle between your right eye, your left eye, your mouth.
Closer.
Until-
“I’m coming in and you two better not be fucking in there- ouch! What was that for Nanamin?”
“You’re a bad wingman, Gojo-senpai.”
“Sorry, Haibara.”
Before the Sorcerers can bustle their way through those soundproof walls once more, you’re hastily scrambling off of Geto’s lap. For now.
.
.
.
“I heard you’ve tamed the cult leader of Tokyo Tech-”
“The who?” You squint at Utahime, trying to figure out whether she was simply trying to raise your blood pressure so early in the morning. No. She was dead serious.
“No need to hide it, Shoko already told me everything. So- about the cult leader of Tokyo Tech?” she repeats, as if that was enough. And when you look dangerously close to an aneurysm, she’s sighing. “Geto Suguru? Tall, tattoos, piercings, dark hair, devastatingly hot- you know who I’m talking about, I can see you fantasizing about him already.”
“I’m not fantasizing.” You’re insisting, though it sounds as if you’ve been caught. Any louder and Yaga would give up on glaring at the two of you, and instead send you out of the lecture completely. Only just started, but already the gossip was hot in class.
You just couldn’t believe it was about you and him.
With your pitch slightly back to normal, you try to sound as civilized as possible as you say, “I am not fantasizing. Nor will I ever.”
Utahime puts her face in her open hand and shakes her head, “Right. Nor will you ever. So that means you completely, totally wouldn’t fantasize about him walking into this class right now and sweeping you off of your feet?”
Well, you had to admit that class was getting a bit droning…but you had to stick to your claim. It was the principle of it. “Correct.”
“And so that means you completely, totally wouldn’t care about the fact that he just did walk into this class?”
“Corre- what?” Your desk rattles, just a little bit, as you turn your body around to face the entrance. And you find that Utahime hadn’t been lying: not the part about him coming to class, or the part about him being ‘devastatingly hot’ from prior.
He saunters in with such confidence, Yaga himself doesn’t point out that he’s just about fifteen minutes late. And he stands at the foot of the lecture hall, eyes scanning the seat and- you don’t think you’ve moved faster in your life than at that very moment. You’re throwing both yours and Utahime’s bags onto the floor from where they’d been placed on the empty seat beside you.
Ignoring her half-hearted ‘hey!’ you let Geto spot you. Like his eyes were drawn to you.
It’s then that you’re noticing he’s wearing glasses. You think he should wear them more often.
And he’s gladly taking the seat, his dark, skin-tight arm-cut pressing against your side. “Thanks, gorgeous.” Noticing all the stares, perhaps even a few whispers that erupt. He leans in real close to mutter in your ear, “They’re just jealous.”
Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear your friend gag. After some brief introductions, you ponder, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”
“Never attended.” He slumps in his chair, making himself look almost too lanky for it, almost too big. In front of you, you think you see Yaga’s bushy brows raise at the interaction - and the fact that Geto Suguru was actually here. “Yaga doesn’t count it. Only reason I’m topping the class—” He smiles, showing off his lip piercing. And if you didn’t know any better, you swear you could see that he had a tongue piercing, as well. “-second place.”
“Braggart.”
“Sore loser.”
“Nerd.”
“That I am,” he chuckles. Geto shuffles through his backpack, patch-worked with various pins and decorations of bands—you think you can make out Green Day, Nirvana, The Garden, and a few more that he’s more than happy to show off.
What he pulls out isn’t his laptop, or a textbook of any kind - it’s his lyrics notebook. And he spreads it open between the two of you, to a page with a few half-written verses.
Met each other just the other day.
But you got me feeling some type of way.
And then past an empty space where you assume he wanted to add in some more:
I wanna hear you…
I wanna see you…
With your own pencil, you’re making a few tweaks. You finish off that second-last sentence that he seemed to be stuck on—I wanna hear you confess.
Geto’s pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he toys with the chunky rings on his fingers for a few seconds. You’re unsure if that meant he was hesitating. If that meant he was thinking. Considering.
Before he leans over and finishes the other line—I wanna see you undress now.
Something zips down your spine, your thighs clench- and you find that he follows them with his own. Bumping his knee against yours. And you push right back against his, following the quiet scritch-scratch of his graphite starting to jot down a few more lyrics.
You got me down on my knees.
It’s getting harder to breathe out.
You always did seem to pull that out of him.
Utahime pinches you as the two of you continue, whispering in your ear so that only you could hear. “What was that about not fantasizing?”
“Shut up.”
.
.
.
A party.
An open bar.
And the thrumming music.
But you and Geto weren’t anywhere near the dance floor, or the lengthy drinks table, or where the couples sneak off to make out- actually, scratch that. Because you two might just be occupying a lil’ alcove in Gojo and Geto’s penthouse apartment.
With the heady college party raging around you two - one that the band had been the one to invite you to - somehow, you’d found yourself with him. Shoulders against shoulders. Skin against skin. Your hands brushing against his when you pick up the pen from his hands–
“Oh, I like this one better than the last-” You circle the lyric that he’d just jotted down, with a few notes of your own that he always loved to read. Something about ‘churning his gears’, whatever that meant. He was almost done with the song now, it seemed.
“Mmm, that’s what I was thinking.” He hums, thoughtfully, dark bangs falling across his face. It was no wonder that half the party was split between waltzing past the alcove merely to get a glimpse of him.
And the other half was on the other side of the penthouse, out of pure shyness.
The thick pads of his fingers scratch out some more writing on his notepad, messy and masculine. His rings glint as he’s scrawling, “If I can figure…it out. I’d take you…back to my house and—” He halts, unsure how the rest of that sentence would go. With his tongue still rolling on those words, he’s glancing at you sidelong.
As you tilt your head in confusion, he’s smirking. “No, s’just funny. You’re already in my house.”
“Mhm, and what are you suggesting?” You raise a brow.
“Ohhh, nothing. Just the song.” And he raises one right back, teasingly. His cherry-vodka laced breath wafting across your features, “And what are you suggesting, gorgeous?”
“Nothing, just the song.”
“Are you sure?” He’s tilting his head down at you, even in the cramped space he somehow seemed to tower over you with his hulking frame. Sheer size. And his deltoid pushes against the side of your body, “You’re awfully close, y’know?” The way that he was leaning even closer.
And you can only sputter at his audacity- “Are you sure?”
“Oi! You two—” Gojo Satoru always did seem to have a penchant for interruptions. You don’t know if you’re maddened by it or grateful- the air was thick, and you couldn’t seem to breathe as well as you might have.
Directly in front of you, from the other side of the room right opposite, Gojo’s waving his hand frantically. His booming voice echoing all across the house, “Stop flirtin’ in there and take a shot!”
Oh, you could imagine the rumors that were taking root already.
Geto flips him off. With a deadpan expression that told his best friend that he’d be staying here with his work (and you, mostly just for you), thank you very much.
Gojo trills, “We’re doing body shots~”
“Let’s go, gorgeous.” Instantly, he looks at you.
“Wha- huh?” You don’t know whether you’ve sustained whiplash by how fast he’s changed his mind, or by how fast he’s moving. With his fingers smoothly replacing the pen in your hands with his own set of digits—big n’ warm.
Geto holds both his lyrical notebook and you as close as possible as he’s meandering through the party. Through the slightly taken-aback gasps, the flirtatious waves, and the grinding bodies.
Gojo looks smugly accomplished by the time you’re making it through the whirlwind party in the middle to reach their table of alcohol. There’s a small group forming now already, cheering on the reunion of the main duo.
Geto looks at him, and there’s a small flicker of understanding that passes. Invisible but existing.
“You two go first-” The white-haired man then thrusts one full shot glass of tequila into Geto’s hands- then immediately grabs ahold of you and cricks your head side to tap out a line of salt down the column of your throat. A wedge of lime between your teeth, pulp side out. Without any adhesive surface, it was messy, scattering nearly up to your jawline. It tingles on your skin once you realize just what was about to happen.
As Geto’s mouth tightens at Gojo’s rough handling of you, the other finishes off. “-I’ve gotta find Nanamin first so he can do one with me.”
Shoko groans. “You’re a lightweight.”
“Exactly.”
“Kento ran out of the building I believe, senpai.” Haibara beams.
And as Gojo whines his protests, Geto can only shake his head- partially because of his band’s antics, partially to clear his fuzzy brain because of you.
You. You. You.
Oh, what gave you the right to present that sensual neck up at him like that? Your teeth worrying your lower lip as if you were nervous. He catches the way your gaze slightly tracks towards the cat-calling crowd, and one roughened hand of his cups your cheek.
Tilting your face ever-so-carefully to look at him instead of the audience.
His pinkish tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he leans in close- as if he was going to whisper something. As if he was going to kiss you.
Before Geto immediately downs the acrid liquid in the glass, barely even reacting. Barely even finishing his swallow before his long, flexible tongue glides up the salt lining your throat. And then where he didn’t hesitate before, didn’t even slow down: he takes a look at the sour lime between your lips and grins.
Slowly, agonizingly.
He’s moving his greedy maw forwards, the plump edges of his mouth hovering above your own. You feel the pressure on the lime as he lightly sucks—and as your knees weaken, he’s easily taking it into his own mouth.
With just the lightest graze of his lips on your lips.
An indirect kiss? A direct kiss? You didn’t even know at this point.
Geto stares at you through his wispy bangs, dead-straight in your widened eyes when he sucks on the lime. Easily ridding it of all juice, he takes it out.
Then, like a gentleman, the fat crown of his thumb wipes away the stray salt that dusts your jawline. Somewhere near the edge of your lips that you’re sure wasn’t coated in salt at all. But you weren’t complaining.
Your ears were ringing, and only too late do you realize that the half-drunk students around you were in uproar. Gasping. Fanning. Staring.
Gojo himself gapes slightly speechless.
“Meddle about.”
“What?” You startle, it had been thick silence in your little bubble until now–like an extension of the alcove. But Geto was the first to break it.
He’s smiling down at you like he knew something you didn’t, then taps the song notebook in your hands- when did it even get in your hands? “If I could figure it out-” Smoky breaths, like he’d just run a marathon. Pants. Heaves. His eyes draaaag down your body, that special outfit you’d put on just for the party. “-I’d take you back to my house, so we can meddle about.”
Oh.
Oh.
It takes you far too long to recognize he’s talking about the song. The song.
Even if he’s looking at you in a way that shows otherwise.
“Just get a room- honestly-” Gojo whines, but then promptly turns to Shoko. “Tell me you got that on camera- please tell me you got that on camera.”
“I did.”
It was palpable. To just about everyone in the room—including a gruff Nanami Kento who walks back in after a few urgent calls from Haibara, then immediately blanches as he looks around the room. At the two of you.
He turns to run.
And as the three others turn to run as well (towards Nanami, in order to catch him), you turn to Geto- only to find that he’s already looking at you. He takes a long lick of his lower lip, lapping up the remnants of liquor. Something glinting in his dark eyes, as if he was trying to figure something out.
Something.
.
.
.
“Hey, let me try something.”
It was the day of their concert, just before. And you’re looking on in slight confusion as Geto taps away the last few notes of his rehearsal, in the green room. The other quartet had slipped out for last-minute drinks beforehand, it was a somewhat dingy hole-in-the-wall bar, but Geto had told you that the music here was legendary.
You trusted him. So you don’t question it either when he’s dragging you by the hand to sit upon one of the big, boxy speakers they kept in the corner of the room.
Making sure the cable connection with his electric guitar was alright- before he strums.
You gasp—the vibrations were tingling all the way at the tip of your feet, and up to the very crown of your scalp. And everywhere in-between. Especially between your legs.
You gape, and Geto snickers like he knew exactly what you were thinking. He hums, low in the aftermath of the guitar screech. “Pretty nice, huh? D’you wanna sit on one of those while we play up there?”
“A-are you sure?” Could you even handle that?
“Mhm. And I think it’ll help to have you so close, too- when we play our new song.” He’s helping you hop off the speaker and stand on your slightly wobbly legs. Arm still helping support you as you teeter your way towards the green room sofa.
It was covered in a blanket of parchment. Sheet music, papers, lyrics.
As you silently look through all the different versions of that song he’d been writing, Geto sits beside you. Arms against arms. Thighs against thighs. Bodies against bodies. Shuffling through all these papers, it almost reminds you of the day you met.
“So many rewrites,” you giggle. Looking through all the infinite crosses and scratches on the papers as he wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote. All day and all night, it seemed. And yet he’s found that everything, words especially, just seem to flow easier around you.
“I wrote it for you.” His dark lashes lower, confessing. “They’re all for you.”
Your heart races- a part of you expected it. A part of you still can’t believe it. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He turns to face you, properly, now. With his predatory gaze making a beeline for your mouth, “S’that a problem?”
“Yeah.” You swallow, “And I like it.”
And then your back’s splayed out across the couch, draped all over Geto’s toned front. He’s got one of his knees wedged between your thighs, and you’re yelping at the sudden movement.
You were just so cute- he’d barely even done anything, and yet you were starting to drench those poor panties of yours already. If he grinded his knee any harder, then he’s sure he’d have a splotchy dark spot that all the audiences would see once he’s up on that stage.
But right now, he didn’t care.
Not at all.
One tattooed hand of his pins down two of yours somewhere by the armrest of the couch.
And your cunt twitches when his face starts looming closer. The shimmering tip of his tongue toying with his lip piercing for a few seconds. Eyes partly-closed to watch you through his lashes, and his mouth greedy to taste yours. He throatily whispers, “I think I just finished the entire song right now, gorgeous.”
Like this, you’re raising your head to meet Geto halfway with a whine. Fluttering your gaze shut as you ready yourself to kiss him—
“Hey, d’you wanna shot before we head ou- ohohoh?!”
“Oh.”
“Congratulations, Geto senpai!”
Nanami leaves, the only one out of the four that seemed to have some inkling of respect for your privacy. Though, to be fair, this was the common green room. And as you try your very best to block out Gojo’s screeches, and Shoko’s constantly shuttering camera, Geto dips down.
Not to kiss you - not right now - but rather, to whisper in your ear. “After the show, m’gonna take you back to my house so we could meddle about.”
.
.
.
After that, it wasn’t just meddling about.
Hell, after that, the two of you didn’t even make it to his damn penthouse.
The minute the concert was over to roaring cheers and quite a few bras thrown on-stage- Geto’s meaningful eyes had locked straight with yours. Seated upon the speaker, and dripping wet from what he could tell from your face.
He doesn’t think he even debriefed with the band or said his goodbyes.
Just a hand on your wrist, the other on your waist. Attached meanly so that he can give the side of your ass a good smack- Geto’s pushing you into the back of his 2018 jet-black Dodge Demon, parked outside the dingy bar. Thank fuck he didn’t decide to take the bike today.
Slamming you into the leather backseats, pinning your hips down.
You’re fucking them back into him already, just as he cups your drivelling pussy through your panties. Whining, “P-please, Suguru. Don’t tease.”
“Fuck-” He’s hissing, taking his hand off of your cute cunt as if it burned. And it did - not to have you in his mouth and around his fingers, that is. First, he’s letting his dark leather jacket drop to the floor, right along with his undershirt.
And you take the time to admire how sexy he was.
From the detailed tattoos that trickled down his neck, to the dragon on his back, to the side of his hip that was decorated with one of a sting-ray. Right on his v-line.
Then he’s moving to take off his fat, silver rings—but you stop him right there. And the look on your face must say enough for you, because just then you’re seeing his features split with such a brilliant smile. Oh, he knew what you wanted. Geto huskily spits, “Alright then, naughty girl. So take it.”
You’re letting off a sudden yelp once he plunges his cold, ringed fingers between your spit-slicked lips.
He’s swabbin’ them all around like an animal, letting your maw suck on him like your favorite lolly. And, fuck, he can’t lie- watching you drool and whine around him like this might just be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
With two glittering rivers of spit dripping down either side of your mouth, you’re moaning once you catch sight of his hand snaking down to his pants. “Mmm, gorgeous, I wanna make you sing.” With only one hand, he’s undoing his chunky belt and the rest of his buttons.
He looks you right in the eyes - not even the slightest bit shy - as he pushes down his dark pants so that you can see the bulging outline of Geto’s erection through his boxers. Rock-hard.
And just as you gasp—his fingers reel back from your slobbery mouth, and slightly teases down your slit. You gush with the drag of his thick thumb, all around him till his wrist was all wet with sweet syrup.
You hold onto his flexing shoulders, “O-oh.” Your hips rutting directly into his hands.
“Oh- oh, gorgeous.” Geto doesn’t even want to speak too loud, not when your pussy was echoing out the most lewd squelches. “She’s reeeeeally happy to see me, huh? Haven’t had a warm welcome this nice since- ever.” His fingers swirl ‘round your tight hole and watches as you just keep on pushing out wave upon wave of your juices. Swirl upon swirl.
Until his digits were just so glazed in all your cream that he couldn’t help but carnally yearn for a little taste. Just a little - you can’t blame him.
Glistening rivulets of slick travel down his pale forearm as he lifts his hand up- you were just that wet for him. And then Geto sucks—then his eyes widen. Then he pants. Then he almost flinches at just how cloyingly good you tasted on his savoring tongue.
Looking you right in your eyes, Geto licks up every last drop from his fingers. And he gusts out the most primal slurps as he does so.
“Oh, gorgeous,” he’s repeating, like before. But there was something different this time. Something faintly…wrecked. As the last few dollops of slick disappear down his throat, he groans. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Oh, fuck- that’s not enough.”
It all happens at once. All of a sudden, he’s on his knees on the floor of the backseat. Knees digging into the carpet below, your upper half being more or less propped up on the cushion.
It’s giving you whiplash how fast it happens, and you’re staring at Geto in slight shock at his strength. To which he catches your cute, bulged gaze and answers, “M’not playing around anymore, gorgeous.”
Skirt, panties—everything is torn off of you with only one of his hands. That lacy lil’ underwear of yours in particular catching his interest. He makes sure to put it in his back pocket - then turns on the backseat light. Uncaring, because his windows were tinted pitch black.
Right now he just smears apart your pussylips with his two thumbs. He’s never seen a prettier fuckin’ sight; how glittering and wet you were, with your folds so swollen that it looked like you were pouting up at him.
Geto plants one sweet lil’ peck right in the middle of your cunt and lingers, just smelling the sugary whiff of your body wash. And that primal scent of your pussy—
“Mmm, y’know what they say about guitarists?” He’s murmuring wetly, right against your sex so that you’ll squirm all cutely.
“Wh-what?” You puff out, a heady breath.
He doesn’t answer- that’s because your wettened pussy is answering for you. With a great, upheaving squeeeeelch he’s sinking inside his lengthy tongue. Past your folds n’ all the way to spearhead into your gooey insides. Muffled, “That.”
It’s barely even registering in your mind, because then Geto’s thrusting his ridged tastebuds in n’ out like he’s gone insane.
In and out, in and out.
With such vulgarity, he’s pressing himself nose-deep against your cunt and breathing you in. Letting the sharp edge of his nose just press on your clit, Geto’s jaw works overtime to prod his bludgeoning tongue.
Slapping against the roof of your pussy, he’s prolonging his muscle into spots you didn’t even know you had. “Oh my n-ngh, fuck!” And so thick, just stretching out your damp hole until you see white.
You gurgle on your own spittle at the sloppy drags of his tastebuds, and pathetically attempt to push back on his clammy scalp. “W-wait, I can feel a- ngh, don’t tell me you really have a…”
“Have a what, gorgeous?” Just to tease you, Geto jerks his head back- letting his tongue flop out of your pussy for just a second. And you’re missing his size inside you, but most of all you’re awestruck by the cold metal piercing right in the middle of his pink tongue.
And he was proudly stuffing it straightly back into your entrance, this time spitting. He smears the line of saliva that glues to your sultry folds, “A piercing- yeah. S’that a problem?”
“N-no…” Your head starts to drop backwards at the sudden usage of his piercing now. You could feel that circular orb poke into your soft innards, like a cold finger almost. You’ve never felt anything like this. “I like it- oh! I like it, I really do—”
“Mhm, glad we cleared that up, baby.” Geto purrs, and he lightly smacks the front of your pussy in adoration. Watching as specks of pearly slick spurt all over his hand, “Now, how about this?”
Before you know it, he’s squeezing in the crowned tip of his finger past your hole - two of them, in fact. And your elastic entrance stretches with the most rawly wet noises, ones that he leans his ear closer to hear even better. Even louder.
Geto snickers meanly once one of his rings catch on your snug hole, and you flinch. “There we go-” He eases them in with repeated pumps, “Theeere we go. Hah, told you I wanted to make this pretty lady sing.”
“Fuh-fuuuuck, I can’t help it, ngh.” Your entire body breaks out in trembles, and the bottom one of your lips starts wobbling.
Oh, he could write songs- fuck that, he could write an entire album about you at this very moment.
But right now, he had more important things to do. Namely: you. And Geto plucks apart your sticky folds to take a good, long look at your cunt swallowin’ in his fingers. Push after push. Probe after probe.
The knobbly, scouring ends of his fingers delve in deep and send you spiralling. “You don’t need to mmm, help it, gorgeous.” He’s continuing where your conversation had trailed off. “You just need to…”
And he’s gulping wet wads of saliva that just slide down his throat.
His thick Adam’s apple bobbing, Geto’s flaring his nostrils- making sure to focus his entire aim on exactly hitting that one spot he knew you’d love. That one spot he’s thrusting in with a rough jackhammer and pushing—“-to project.”
And you were projecting that pretty voice alright.
You’re screaming almost feverishly at the sensation of him scraping your inner lining, your walls cling onto him maddeningly. Gobbling him up as he hits your g-spot at a frenzied pace - once, twice, thrice.
“Please-” Babbling out stupidly, tears cascade down your cheeks when he manages to shove your wet orifice apart. You’re drip-drip-driiiiping gummy wetness once he pushes in a second fat fingertip, the globular edge of his swipin’ each nook n’ cranny of your cunt. “Please please please- I need ngh-”
“Yeahhh, who do you need, gorgeous?”
“Y-you…”
Geto cups his ear with a mocking smile, and he’s crushing your throbbing clit between his front teeth. Just gnawing. “Mhmmm—?”
“You-” You’re sobbing out - squealing. Your back hits the seat of the cushion as you slump over, and he’s forced to push down on your stomach with one hand just to stop you from rovering about. Pinning you down.
“Babyyyy, you know I love to hear your- hah, voice.” He’s drawling out, and his words were just as sloppy as his mouth. Just salivating all over. “I have a feeling you can be louder though.”
“Sugu-”
“Louder~”
Putting all the pressure on your lower body when he sliiiiides every inch of his long, knobbly fingertips inside. The doughy pads of them push into your g-spot just right, until you felt all battered n’ bruised by him. “Please- you- ngh, you, Suguru.”
“There- what did I tell you. Fuck, I wish I could h-have this on speaker.” Groaning. Panting. “Yeahhhh, you like that, huh? Want my tongue, t-too? Oh.”
But then you’re clasping his sweaty forehead and shoving him down between your legs. Where his curving tongue was sloppily zig-zagging all over, and you’re trilling. “K-keep going, mmm.” Cock twitching. Rutting so hard that his damned muscle car jostles.
He couldn’t even catch his breath - and he didn’t want to. “Well, I hafta make it up to my muse in some way, yeah?”
His tongue is so expert, too. You’re easily getting louder - even more than you first thought possible. Partly because of the way his pierced tongue was resting on your overstimulated nub. Flicking your ruddied clit until it felt all raw, again n’ again—you were so far gone by this point that Geto can feel each pulse of your hot core on his mouth.
And he counts it - one, two, three, four. Like the beat of his favorite melody- fuuuuck, he was so pussydrunk right now that he might just memorize it and write it as the next beat of his song.
“Y-you’d- hck! what?” You’re hiccuping in pure disbelief, unsure if those words had actually (accidentally) fallen from Geto’s mouth, or if he was makin’ out with your cunt so good that you were hearing things. You wouldn’t be surprised.
“Exactly what I jus’ said.”
And Geto isn’t, either.
Of course, he was bound to be fucking stupid on the sultry taste of your pussy. Especially when you were streaming out wet ribbons of slick with each rovering push of his fingers.
He vulgarly wets his lips a lil’ in the liquid leaking out, and then promptly plops his open mouth over your sopping hole. Geto had lapped up all the slick stuck to your folds, your thighs, your clit - now the one place left was inside.
And he was still hungry.
His pierced lip draaaaagging over your quivering orifice, Geto starts to push his tongue in eagerly. Uncaring for the way he was already barreling his fingers inside. Uncaring of the absolutely incredible stretch that was making your back arch.
N’ he’s so dexterous. Alternating between wet whacks! at the front channel of your walls, and then licking over your clit. He was plastered to your pussy in a way that felt maddening- “Sh-shit, I don’t think m’gonna last, Sugu—”
“Sugu, huh?” He raises a neat brow at the nickname, “I like that.”
And if it was possible, his narrowed strikes are accelerating. More honed, more precise to your g-spot, it’s like a cute lil’ bullseye that he can’t stop hitting. All because it makes you shake and whine like that.
“Mmm, yeah, just like that. C’mon, gorgeous girl- come and get it-” Geto gruffs now, the back of his throat all hoarse. His baritone voice was on the verge of breaking at this point. “Ride my mouth, would you?”
You’re whimpering, because Geto’s then opening his pretty mouth even wider for you to ride him - but you’re so weak.
Your limp knees struggling to keep on rutting- only for Geto to then shift a free hand underneath you.
Feeling all his firm biceps n’ muscles bulge as he keeps you up, just so strong- fuck, was it all those guitar sessions? He gurgles out, “Upsy daisy. Lemme help you cum, baby.” Dragging; he’s just moving you like a ragdoll, push and pull of his slippery tongue.
Just babbling nonsensical syllables.
And he’s gluing his upper lip to your clit, to your folds, to your weepy hole. Everywhere and anywhere that you’ll be feeling the most pleasure, then he’s twirlin’ the pointed tip of his tongue inside like he’s reaching for your g-spot with that.
Like he’s fucking you with his cock. Craving to.
Again and again, it makes you squirm.
Your syrupy goodness starts to drip down his forearm at the sheer pressure, showing him that you’re close. And with each bash of his three fingertip circumferences, Geto grunts. “Lemme help you- let me- ngh, you have to cum, okay? Cum alllll over my tongue.”
“Yes-” Being moved. And soon enough, with a few more vicious thwacks! your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. “S-Sugu, I’m…”
It’s the only thing you’re able to intone at the moment. The only thing that you can even think of - your heavy orgasm. You’re being manhandled, with your hips gyrated onto his face through every burst of pleasure.
Somehow, you start to wonder whether he doesn’t need to breathe.
And he’s the one who doesn’t care about it. Doesn’t even care if he suffocates just as long as his mouth can remain plastered onto your pussy. Eating you out till he’s feeling dizzy.
And you? You’re seeing white, before it’s a kaleidoscope of color because of the tears.
You hiccup, your chin dropping down to your chest to stare at him through comically swirling pupils. Practically heart-eyes at this point. “Ngh, it feels so g-good, Sugu-” Your thighs start to twitch, feeling his orbed piercing spank down on your clit. Your very own tastebuds water at the stinging euphoria, the way he was scraping your innards. “M’so sensitive.”
“Mhm, and you’re not tapping out now,” he’s challenging. Looking up at you through shaggy bangs, Geto grins around your thoroughly puffy folds. “Because my throat is parched after the concert.”
You squeeze, so hard that he can feel his rings pushin’ against your sultry walls. Oh, he won’t be giving up so easily.
And by the time that Geto’s popping himself off of your treacly cunt - with a wet noise, with a few more kisses to your silvery slope, with a final bite on your clit - you’re run rightly ragged. You can barely even speak, occasionally tremoring at the shockwaves still bubbling through your veins.
“P-please—” You’re running your fingers tenderly through his dark locks, pushing them away from his face. And luckily for you, what a sight it was.
Because Geto’s high cheekbones were just cherry red in color from all the blushing and lack of air. From the way he was so pussydrunk on your cunt that it was starting to make him look oh-so-ruined. Eyelids heavy. Lips swollen.
He had a sheen of your slick splashed from his pointed chin, all the way up his cheeks. His jawline. And his lengthy tongue pops out once more to stretch n’ lick up those clingy wads. Making sure you see.
Bit by bit, your mouth grows more agape. “Please, I wan’ your cock now, Sugu…” And you wanted it badly - that glimpse from before was enough to get you all antsy on his seat.
Slowly, sensually, Geto reaches out his fat thumb - the one from his left hand, that wasn’t covered in your shiny juices - and wipes off the slobber trickling from one end of your mouth. Putting it in his own maw, he sucks it up like he sucks up the slick all over his other set of digits.
“Anything you say, my muse.”
He sounded husky, even more so than after the concert.
And you barely even have the time to touch whatever was left of the rest of your clothes - before Geto gently repositions your hands away and onto hold his slim waist. He undresses you himself, as if he was opening up a cute lil’ present.
Then he’s patting a thumb down onto the hem of his boxers, where black curls of his happy trail rested. Teasing.
“Don’t tease.” You have half the mind to take them off yourself. Before Geto finally puts you out of your needy misery, and rids himself of those boxers.
And you were right - his bulging dick-print was huge, but the real thing was even more massive.
And hard. Rock-fucking-hard. Geto’s plump, puckered cockhead was a bright red that looked angry, and he was flushed all the way down to his heavy balls. All twitchin’ and tight at the thought of being inside you.
Hell, you swear you could even count the mere throbs of his veins, so far-gone that they seemed to make his decorated cock twitch in midair. But what you were gazing at the most wasn’t all of that - even though it did catch your eye - it was the small, circular piercing that rested underneath the slit of his tip. A Prince Albert’s piercing.
Geto’s feeling the intensity of your stare and and leaks out a wad of buttery precum, a few droplets of it making it down his shaft. He wipes away the rest of it with the front pad of his thumb, and then pushes it between your gawking lips. “Shut that hah, pretty mouth, gorgeous, don’t wanna catch flies.”
You moan at the slightly salty taste, and it only makes your cunt grow even wetter. Only made you lean in even closer without even realizing - and Geto lets it happen.
He lets your pouty mouth slip all the way across his furiously weeping tip, pressing just one wet kiss in hello before a hand at your throat wrenches you away. “Don’t even worry about it, baby—” He uses his chokehold on you to lift you up.
To flip you around and then smack the side of your asscheeks. You were on all fours now, with him pressing his muscular weight into your arched spine.
Geto gutturally groans out in your ear, “Tonight’s—” And you feel something poke at your entrance. You feel something hard. “-allll about you.”
He rests a hand on the side of your hips, attaching, and then uses the force to drag you back into him. All filling up your gooey orifices with his erection, he’s squeezing himself inside like he’s gone feral.
Oh, he’s squeezing himself inside like he’s trying to make you feral.
That flared, mushroomy tip of his pryin’ apart your sticky walls, Geto uses his honed shaft to push n’ push n’ push. Too big to completely bottom out for now, but still making your mind spin with rapid, hard half-thrusts. You whine, “Oh- oh!” Voice reaching a fever point. “Please, a-all the way in, Sugu.”
“Mmm, want it all the way ngh, in, huh?” Doing the exact opposite, Geto then slows. He then stops. His cute, orbed piercing rubbin’ the roof of your cunt frigidly back and forth. Ever-so-slightly. Teasingly.
It’s only once you start huffing and puffing in disappointment that he’s chuckling, thinking that delirious expression was just too adorable on you. And in a low bass, Geto purrs out. “Come and get it now.”
“You’re not seriously–”
“I am, show me how you do it-” His hand on your throat twists your face backwards - all tear-stained and fighting the urge to let your eyes roll to the back of your scalp. The moment he catches sight of your face properly, you feel his blistering hot cock twitch inside you. “-fuck, turn around.”
And he was urging you to fuck your hips back into his. Goading you into it, practically.
Firstly, you start off with a few tentative bounces. Just gyrating your hips, almost shy of his size. “L-like this?”
“Nuh uh, baby.” He’s tutting from behind, other hand scraping down your tummy. He wants to feel himself as he sinks in. “You n’ I both know that you can do muuuch better than that.” And even though he wasn’t moving, his cock seemed to be growing even bigger. Swelling. Elongating.
One of his curly veins rub up near your g-spot and you trill, “But you’re just so…”
“So?”
The most shallow, wet grinds. Not enough to take him entirely, not enough to satiate you. “Big.”
And then you’re blessed - well, more like punished - with a semi-rut, swabbin’ his thickened tip even deeper. You can’t help but squeeze your plush walls around him, expecting more. “Wan’ it that bad?” Swatting your ass, the force is enough that your flesh jiggles and he grins. “Take it, then. M’all yours.”
So you’re raising your ass up even higher, arms wobbling limply in front of you. You use up all the energy left in your shattered body to perk your waist up just a bit, then slam down the rest of Geto’s length. Hitting his hard v-lines. Bottoming-out.
Taking him all the way from the fat, split-ended tip- down, down, dooooown till his hairs tickle your slope.
Geto raises a brow at the way you’re mewling uncontrollably by taking all of him, then his right hand starts to push n’ pull you with the restraint at your neck. “S’it that big? Hah- ya like it thaaaat much, gorgeous?”
“Yes- oh, f-feels so good having you like this.” You moan, every time he was elongating his words, Geto made sure to glide the cold metal of his piercing down your spongy cervix. “Fuck, can barely even ngh! take it.”
And you have the feeling that if he could reach even further than that, then he would in a heartbeat.
“But you are.”
Before you know it, a wet splat! of something strikes your cunt folds. You’re turning your head over your shoulder to find out that it was Geto spitting on your already-dripping pussy, an invisible string of it still connecting his mouth to your entrance.
“Because m’proud of you, my muse.” He drawls out, and he sounds drunk. Geto swerves around the tip of his thumb all over your pussylips, just like he was stirrin’ around his cock by now.
Circle after circle. Prodding into hidden spots you didn’t even realize were there- he then catches the slightly pouty curve of your mouth and coos. “Awww, what’s the matter, baby- fuck.” In response you only clamp down on him, the textured ridges of his shaft so sensational that it leaves your mouth ajar. His lip curls, “Oh, I get it.”
“H-huh?”
Just then he leans over, and it leaves his curvaceous tip poking in even deeper. Melting his sweaty abs on top to the back of your spine, Geto purses his lips and spits. Straight into your mouth, then he smiles all handsomely like he’d just done you a favor.
You look at him with bulging eyes. He’d read your mind.
“Fuck, you’re getting even w-wetter.” He’s sputtering out- fucking up into you. Chasing your pussy. Every hard thrust of his left you shoved forwards a few inches, and Geto’s reeling you back in just so he won’t lose you.
Just so the feeling of your pulsing, velvety walls won’t be lost- soon enough, he’s wrapping his beefy left hand over your neck to hold you in a headlock. “Gonna hafta give me a show- we can do that, ngh, can’t we, gorgeous? Gonna drive me wiiiild w-with that pussy, huh?”
“O-oh my god-” you’re blabbering out. A sparkly sheen of saliva forming down his forearm, trickling from the front of your mouth. “I think you’re doing the- driving wild- oh.”
You could barely even string together the sentences.
Your entire body twitches at the sudden change in angle; with him bent over and leaning his weight into you like this, you felt like you were being crushed in the best ways. Geto’s constant pummeling reaches deep into the back spots of your cervix, leaving a cute lil’ bruise of his circumference.
He kisses the side of your head sloppily- and you’re realizing that Geto had forgotten to take off one of his silver chains. Or maybe he didn’t want to. Because there was just the rhythmic, cold bang-bang-bang of his jewellery that was greeting the back of your neck in time with his furious ruts.
All the way from his hard, globular tip n’ dooooown to where his shaft was the thickest. His drilling pace left your plush insides being all straightened out on his length. His girth.
Just fucking you like an animal.
You can feel your head start to slowly tip forwards, too heavy and filled with cotton. But Geto would never let you get off that easy, “Hey, hey—look at me.” Pulling you back in with his headlock.
Geto’s tone was firm, he meant it.
You struggle to blink your lids open properly, all sticky with the residue of your tears. Yet once you look at him, you can still make out the sultry twinkle in his eyes.
He lifts his right hand up to your bleary line of vision, “You see this?” And you have to take a few seconds to note that he’s talking about that tattoo that slithers across his entire arm - a snake. With its fanged maw wide open where his thumb separated from the rest of his fingers, “Mmm, nice, huh?”
Absent-mindedly, you nod.
That’s when you register what’s happening - the snake. With its mouth wiiiide open, creeps down to your pussy, and he’s cupping your delicate folds. Almost as if to swallow. As if to strike.
Geto’s pounding you into the expensive backseat of his car like he’s devouring you. Pinpointing each n’ every leaking crevice with his buttery precum, letting the mound of his palm slide back and forth down your slit.
You gush out a wet splatter! of syrup straight into his palm and he grins, “Really- oh, ya really are drivin’ me wild, baby. Look into my eyes now.”
He wanted to stare away into your beautiful, stupidly dilated eyes as he mazes his entire length inside you. The forefront of his piercing acting like a searchlight, you can feel the exact moment that Geto smears apart your walls n’ precisely bashes your g-spot.
“S-so unfair that you have a- hck!” You can’t even finish your sentence. You’re choking on so many whines n’ copious amounts of drool that wash down the front of your chin like a fountain.
Geto himself finds it adorable how you’re cockdrunk already. And it almost feels like that night at the party when he leans in, parched tongue licking up your web of drool - why waste it? “I don’t hear her complaining.”
“M-maybe she is-” You insist back stubbornly, just for something to say.
And at that very moment, one of Geto’s long fingers extends so that he can drag them down the dribbling crevice of your pussy. The edge of his middle finger slide-slide-slides between your slit with the loudest, most primal slurp. “Mmm, I don’t think she is. Not when she’s- ngh, singing f’me.”
His words are enough to make your eardrums pop at the filth - but then again, so is the way he was driving his hips into you. Repeatedly, like a train. And so was the way the crowned tip of his ringed fingers start rolling over your clit.
You prattle out, just when he uses his large index to draw a heart on the very tip-top button of your nub. Just the pressure felt too good. “S-sooooo cocky–”
“Damn right n’ you’re full of it- literally.”
Perhaps it was the way he said it - reminding you of the thick, solid inches that were filling you up - or perhaps it was his newly-drawn patterns on your clit, but you’re growing even wetter. Dripping in thick, glittering wads of slick that trickle down Geto’s own legs.
Feeling the sloppy wetness, he’s looking down- and then immediately grinning to himself. He whispers, “Wonder if I can…”
“What are you-”
“Shhh, told you tonight was all about- hah, fuuuuck- you, my muse.”
Oh, you don’t know how well that boded for your poor pussy. Or your walking abilities for at least the next week.
In a mere few nanoseconds, Geto has his hips churning out an interesting angular cadence. Not only was he pumping his red, swollen cock into you- he was also shiftin’ his hips in grinding movements so that the edge of his Prince Albert’s piercing would swab its way ‘round and round.
Sticking his glazed tip into each spot, the icy circle of his piercing was just driving you wild. Making your toes curl and your feet anchor- almost in an effort to run–
“Ah ah-” Only for him to pull you back in with his constraining headlock, flexing so that his sexy biceps are squeezing your neck even tighter. “We’re getting- ngh, doooown and dirty, girl. Don’t run.” Then he’s repeating the scrape-scrape of his decorated crown down your walls, red n’ rude.
“F-fuck, could you feel that, gorgeous?” Geto’s voice breaks at some point, after a particularly drawn-out drag of his rovering tip. And he has the audacity to giggle, “That one was a heart.”
Your eyes snap open, mouth plummeting out a low- “Oh, fuck.”
Because Geto wasn’t just fucking you with his pierced cockhead anymore; he was using that orb at the beginning of his slit to draw on you. Right at the very end of your sponged cervix, in ravenous strokes, he was buttering you up. Painting you.
Next, he glissades a swooping motion that makes his veins push up against your roof. Uttering a low hiss, “Mmm- my- hah, my name’s a bit harder…”
“L-let me help.”
And that makes Geto’s heart skip a beat.
He slides his hand up n’ down your slit, prodding at your clit lovingly. “O-of course, my muse.” Letting you push backwards in a figure-eight, until his dark happy trail was rubbing your ass cheeks raw. “Harder-” A vulgar spank to your ass. “Harder. Show me how you can d-do it.”
“M’going- ngh, fuck. Wan’ more, Suguru.”
Anything you say. Anything you do- fuck, he almost thinks he could cum right here, right now. That’s why he’s instead focusing his attention on manhandling your body back in ruts, to hit his massive girth with such rough recoil.
Again. And again. And again and again—
Until you’re feeling his pulsing mushroom tip glue up against your womb, carving along a whalloping bruise. And you swear - with whatever frenzied brain cells were left within your skull - it formulates the zig-zagging motion of an ‘S’
“And thaaaaat was my n-name.”
Maybe he got lucky. Maybe he was just that good.
Sobbing, “F-fuck!” You don’t get to find out whether he’s able to finish off the rest of his name - whether that was even possible - because immediately you’re bucking back n’ forth. “Oh my god- i-it’s almost- ngh, too much.” That lecherous action sending sparks of pleasure to your brain. Having him try n’ claim the very back spots of your pussy. Those hidden crevices.
“Easy, eeeeasy there, baby. What did I say—don’t run.” Pulling you back with his headlock, “Don’t make me- ngh, choke you like that- gorgeous-” Even though he already was.
You’re getting easily dumbified as he repeats those movements a few more times. Needily moving faster to chase those sparks he’d erupted before, “Please- please want it- ngh, close-”
“Nice try.” Body so weak that he was the one predominantly in control now. He’s matching your pace- surpassing it, all with a thumb that tweaks your clit until you see white. That snake. Maw ajar. “But you’re the one that’s gonna, mmm, cum first.”
You whine. Geto was just so mean- was he always this mean? Because he surely was fucking you like it; now three different points of pleasure. From your throbbing clit, to your g-spot being massaged by his decorative veins, then that lewd lil’ pattern he drew at the back of your cervix. So much. Too much.
You’re so close that you’re slobbering out in waves at this point, and he has his mouth slipped to the side to lick up any n’ every sap you were leaking.
Pierced tongue slimily slithering allll the way down the side of your lips, you mewl. So filthy. “Fuck- y-you’re right-” His blushing red tip twitches at those words. “M’gonna- gonna…”
You can’t even finish your sentence.
With a few more sinful strokes, you’re falling apart on his creamy cock. Letting the heatwave of your high take over you- you throw your head back, resting upon Geto’s collarbone, toes curled, mouth shrilling out his name.
After each and every sloppy drag of his vein-covered cock, he was fucking you through your high so perfectly. The frigid tip of his piercing pushin’ into your g-spot, that makes you last even longer.
Even more.
And Geto himself was just as drunk on your pussy- “F-fuck, m’gonna cum.” He moans, tonality hollow in a way that made him sound so wrecked. Just then, you’re feeling something warm and gooey fill up the nooks and crannies of your cunt.
Webbing you up from the inside. It sticks to you like a second skin and he’s overfilling you to the point where you can feel a sheen of white drip down the insides of your thighs. Gluing them together. “Shit- don’t even have enough, ngh, space.”
“Oh, you will.” Through labored pants, Geto looks down where you were taking him - and he doesn’t think he’s seen a more heavenly sight. With your damp folds glazed in ivory, glistening after each pump of his hips. It’s forming a ring around his bulky base, soaking his happy trail.
He smears the droplets of cum that are part of the spillage, layering them onto the padded top of his thumb. Then, immediately, you gasp as you feel the stretch of him pushing those knots back inside. “Listen to that-” The loudest wet noises. “Wonder if I’ll be able to hah- sing as good as that at my next concert, hm?”
“Shut up.”
Geto doesn’t stop just yet.
Not until his ravaged, red cock feels raw—oversensitive. Not until he’s properly fucked you through the hazy peaks of your high and you’re left merely trembling. Not until he’s squirted every ounce of pure white cum inside you, n’ you can’t do anything but perk your hips up from the seat and take it. Take it.
He has tears in his eyes by now. The rockstar pulls back his hand from your clit after you start wriggling with overstimulation.
And then makes sure you watch - make sure you can see his looooong, pink tongue slither out to suck up every sullied dewdrop of slick and cum from his digits. From his rings. Lastly, he slaps his cleaned, moisturized fingers against your ass. Groping.
“I could write albums about that, gorgeous.” You still haven’t gained the ability to speak since being completely dumbified.
And Geto sets you free from that headlock, finally. You’re dropping to the plushness of his car seat like you’re boneless, barely even able to look up as he seethes. Through labored pants, he smiles, “So…still wanna go back to my house so we can meddle about?”
Not even pulling out of you yet.
He throbs from the inside. Plump n’ probing. Awaiting your answer- you start to wonder whether he’ll be able to write out the entirety of his name on your cervix.
“Fuck yeah.”
.
.
.
It was no surprise that Meddle About topped the charts. All of them.
Someone had recorded it back at its debut concert, to which it had gone viral overnight. Then came the record deals, the studio sessions, and the official album launch (of which Geto claimed that all those love songs were about you.)
And it was also no surprise that that was what launched the Sorcerers from being a regionally famous band, frequenting the local bars and gigs, to being internationally-known. To touring all ‘round the world.
But what did come as a slight surprise - a pleasant one - was when he’d asked you to join him.
Somehow, some part of you had imagined that once Geto got a taste of the high life, the fame, the music, the travel; that meant he’d simply indulge in it. Without you. Without even a thought of you - little did you know that you were all Geto Suguru could think about.
Seriously. It did endearingly irritate his bandmates.
So when Geto asked you to join him, after some arrangements with your life back at home, you’d said yes. Of course.
And then there was another surprise. At the very first concert that you’d attended with him- and then for each one thereafter (it grew to be a little tradition, you see) there was this…
“And tonight- I have someone very special in the crowd for me- yes, Satoru, she’s here for me, not for you.” The crowd buzzes, peering over each other’s heads for a glimpse of another collaboration act, perhaps. Some even waited for one of the band members to stage dive.
But what happens is that Geto Suguru - rockstar, worldwide heartthrob, lead guitarist of the Sorcerers - smiles. A slow, soft smile that they don’t think they’ve ever seen on him before, not this sort.
And he’s pointing somewhere to the VIP seats, the closest ones at the very front row. Where there was you; you could feel the stares now. The whispers. The phones recording. Surely, this was about to end up on just about ten different social medias- just when you had gotten used to the campus teasing. This was about tens of thousands of more eyes. Honestly, having a rockstar boyfriend was not for the weak.
But he did make it so easy. So, so easy.
Geto continues on, a gentle chuckle leaving his mouth at the way you squirm under the spotlight. He says your name, “My muse, my lover. I love you. This one’s for you, just as they all are.”
There’s a tumultuous wave of ‘aww’s’ that ring out, and screams, perhaps a few faints.
Synopsis. BIoodshed. BIoodIust. Vampires. It was no wonder you’d turn to the charming new priest in town during dark times like these…but Father Gojo seems to be interested in you in ways that are more than sinful. And there’s nothing holy about him, either.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, priest!Gojo, VAMPIRE AU, slight wild west AU, slight vioIence, reIigious themes, mentions of déath, slightly eerie, small town gossip, first times, oraI (fem rec.), he goes FÉRAL, fíngering, bíting, spítting, p sIapping, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, mentioned bIood, matíng presses, size kínk, breaking furniture, D slipping, manhandIing, he’s BIG, tummy buIges, D piercing, dúmbifícation, squírting, marathons, fated ones, matíng marks, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 12.0k
A/N. Tysmmm to the babygirls that voted on this poll <3
“H-help-” Words tremble weakly from your throat, drowning underneath the wailing wind. The storm was furious; forming iron walls of rain that blocked every dusty road and lane of your idle country town. “Please help-”
And your escape.
You thought you knew better than to trust the rumor mill. A few murmurs here, a hasty funeral with a closed casket there, and then two more exactly the same. It had everyone - from haunted elders at the local pub, to children on the playground - uttering only one word.
Vampire.
And then, you’d seen it- him.
Just the thought itself is enough to send your aching legs surging towards the nearest, faint yellow light on the midnight street. Safety. “H-he’s comin’ for me- please-”
Terrified to even turn your back, you race to bang your fists against the oak doorway of the building. For fear of seeing those eyes again - two glowing sapphires piercing at you from the dark. “He’s here-” Cold. Just like-
“Going somewhere, my angel?”
Lightning crashes against the sky. And you crash into his arms.
Staring right into the blue, blue eyes of Gojo Satoru.
Who else could it be?
That warm, handsome priest your age who’d taken it upon himself to renovate the dilapidated ol’ church of your town. It’d been forgotten for ages - and with it, the fear for what came after you were no longer upon this Earth.
Now you had both the recent string of deaths and Father Gojo to remind you.
And oh, were you reminded - it was hard to miss him. Especially in a town so small.
Golden cross always swinging in the middle of his dark black cassock, Bible always in large hands that you couldn’t look away from.
Perhaps it was sacrilegious, perhaps it was fleeting fancy- because there always was much to see.
From the broad shoulders filling out his holy robes, to the slight dimples that cratered his pale cheeks any time he grinned - at least you weren’t alone with your admiration. For it had only been a few weeks since Gojo had arrived, as quietly as if he’d simply parted the heavens and set foot here, and he was already starring in as much of your town’s gossip as the myth of the vampire was.
Well, a myth no longer, you’re realizing. And it’s enough to make your shivering fingertips clench-
Onto…a firm arm?
You blink, looking up only now to register that it wasn’t just any arm - it was Gojo’s arms. Heated. Strong. Around you.
The only thing holding your weight up right now, as your weakened legs made themselves useless.
And Gojo himself was peering down at you through his long, pale lashes. Close. Close enough that your wet-streaked cheeks bristle at his scorching breath, “My, you look like you’ve been face to face with the Reaper himself, beloved.” His rosy lips curl at the ends, slightly. “Or…worse.”
That makes you gasp- fighting in his grasp, you snap your head over your shoulder and stare into the darkness behind you. Just hoping it won’t stare back. “It- he- was f-following me- kept after me, wouldn’t let up-”
“Pardon?”
“The- the vampire!”
His eyes seem to flicker in the dim lighting, and Gojo speaks not a word. Just lets out what sounds like a short, sharp gasp- before tucking you deeper into his embrace.
And it would almost be scandalous, you knew. If it wasn’t for the rain then one of the neighbours might have peeked their head out, and by tomorrow afternoon the entire town would be ablaze with the news of the priest holding a rain-drenched woman outside the church itself.
But Gojo didn’t care if anyone would see, it seems.
Because he only tugs you tighter against his tense core once he feels you struggling, “There there, my angel. It must have been quite the fright, the Lord has surely tested your courage.”
“Oh, it was downright terrifying. One moment I was closing up my stall- ready to walk back home tonight, and the next thing I know I hear the crunch of a twig.”
Close. “Interesting.”
“He towered over me like a mountain- and just as cold. I-I think he was gunning for my blood next-”
Closer. “Real interesting.” So close that you could count each spike of grey in his irises, and every vibrato in his baritone voice. “No harm shall come to you whilst these holy walls and I stand, my darling. He shan’t lay a hand on you.” And then Gojo smiles, crooked and gleaming in the glowing candles from behind him. “Not a single hand.”
You seem to breathe out, for the first time in what feels like years. Simply held.
Simply ignoring the coil of something deep down in your stomach- you busy yourself with the frigid dig of something hard against your back, where his hands glided up n’ down soothingly. Like the corner of a book-
“Oh, heavens. I have forgotten myself.” Gojo starts, noticing the most minute shiver that runs down your spine.
In a singular, fluid motion, he’s breaking away to shut the heavy wooden doors and usher you inside- so fast that you half-heartedly wonder whether it may be spellwork. “Please, come in. Soak up some warmth in my office.”
“Th-thank you, Father.”
“Please. Call me by name.”
And you can’t help but follow.
Noticing the small, tattered book that was clutched in one of his hands - ah, that was what you’d been feeling on your skin. Guiltily, you think you must have interrupted him during his reading time…
As Gojo turns his back on you to lead you down the long, candle-lit hallway of the church, you can’t help but narrow your eyes at the tiny book swinging by his side. It didn’t look like his usual Bible-
“Ah, here.” You’re looking up to see Gojo dip his lengthy fingers into a side pocket within his dark robes. Almost melding with the shadows of the candles, it’s as if he’s pulling a long, stringed rosary from thin air. “Take my rosary. Let your faith guard you when I cannot, beloved.”
“O-oh, thank you again, Father-”
His dimple winks, “Satoru.”
“Right…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, even as he probes you with half-lidded eyes to do so. Instead, busying yourself by tugging on the incense-scented necklace, it weighs light ‘round your neck. And you can’t help but run your fingers over each bead- “I won’t forget this.”
And the very second your eyes flit up- you see him, Bible grasped in his hand like it always had been.
Strange, you quiver your head slightly, tonight must have shaken you up more than you thought for you to be seeing things that weren’t there.
Though, it should’ve been expected with how disorientingly massive the interior of the church was. Much too immense for such a town. You didn’t remember it being this grand before Gojo had arrived- far arches of the ceiling peered in with gargoyles, high stone walls carved with faint effigies.
Ahead of you, the pews were polished enough to act as mirrors. And as you turned left past the high place of worship down a corridor towards his office, you couldn’t help but feel like the building was swallowing you whole.
“Something the matter, my angel?” Gojo’s voice breaks through the cold silence, back still turned. “Still troubled by what the Lord has shown you?”
Clutching the delicate rosary, “It- it’s just…it wasn’t the vampire that spooked me.” You twist, and so does the string of beads in your hands. “But those eyes?”
“Yes–?”
“Hell rode in ‘em.”
The clap of thunder, the clash of dry prayer beads on polished stone.
It’s as if each degree of warmth bled by the candles blows out in a single gale of wind the very moment you say this.
Boring into your very soul, Gojo’s pale eyes are almost other-wordly as he turns. “Worry not, for no monster can enter through these holy walls, beloved.” Chuckling, and the rolling spheroids of his now-shattered rosary sing as he steps past them.
A tall, shadowed figure leading you into the dark.
“Except humans, of course.”
.
.
.
“Sugar-–! The finest sugar from the East-”
“Boots half-off–!”
“-get yerself velvet-”
The market was always alive, despite everything. A bustling, breathing thing lined with snug stalls upon either side of a dust-track road. And you were stationed at your fruit stall, as usual, as if you hadn’t damn near been the lucky fourth on a long list of closed caskets.
Shuddering, your fingers tighten on the wooden panel where you’d lined your plethora of fruits.
Eyes darting towards the melting yolk sun warming your skin- right, it was still light out. The elders whispered that vampires feared the day - and so you were safe. For now. You had to make sure to pack up as soon as the others did, no more idling around tonight.
“My my, isn’t that Father Gojo- oh, what a sight for sore eyes he is.” Your head turns at the coo of the bookseller’s young daughter, Miwa, her stall right next to yours.
And it didn’t take long for you to see what she was talking about- not long at all for you to nearly want to fluster, too.
Because there was Gojo Satoru - even in the distance, he was two heads taller than anyone else. With his stark ivory locks catching the daylight, tight cassock snug against his waist and fluttering ever-so-slightly as he weaved through the flea market, the calling pedlars.
“Oh, Father Gojo- I hear he built that dingy ol’ church right up with his bare hands-”
“I know he’s gotten nearly twenty-seven proposals by the wealthiest families, but guess what? Rejected ‘em all!”
“And that purity ring, oh, a true man of the holy script. Why, forget their daughters, I would have proposed myself- oh, but don’t tell my husband.”
The whispers made you squirm for some strange reason. It was a hasty retreat from the church last night after a brief bout of warming tea in his office, lest someone caught you and thought something else. And you didn’t expect to see him so soon; least of all have his fiery blue eyes waft through each shabby stall as if he was drinking them in.
So close. Close enough that you couldn’t help but let out an dragged-out sigh-
“Oi. Oi! You deaf or somethin’- fuck’s sake.”
Oh. Shit.
“M-my apologies, sir-” You’re gasping, snapping your head to the front of your fruit display to find that you’d attracted the attention of none other than Zenin Naoya, sole heir of the house of Zenin merchants. As if your day couldn’t have been any more eventful.
Well, as long as he was a paying customer. Plastering a plastic smile across your face, you gesture towards the ripe red pomegranate held in his grip. “Want me to tally that up?”
Scoffing, “No not after that shoddy customer service. It’d be the last time I spend a dime in this dump.” He tilts his head defiantly, “What’s got yer eyes so occupied anyways-”
“Nothing-”
“Hehhh–?” And you’re appalled to see the way Naoya’s smile curls as he swivels his head the same direction you were looking in - one that half the market was surely turned to admire at this point.
The sight of priest Gojo Satoru bent in playful conversation with a little child, beaming.
“Sweet on that damn preacher, huh? Isn’t it a sin to watch him that close, sweetcheeks?”
You bristle, “I beg you not to say another blasphemous word-”
“Oh, I bet the gossips at the general store’d eat this little turn of events right up.” Naoya titters, pomegranate now rhythmically thrown up n’ down into the air to be caught. “Small town like this? News like that won’t stay quiet for long. Real shame, huh?”
Only one word and it wouldn’t just be you paying the price, it would be poor, undeserving Father Gojo as well. You stay quiet. You can only stay quiet.
More so to stop from snatching that pomegranate and slamming it straight into his sneering face.
But Naoya takes that as an opportunity to lean in- to let his tobacco scent cloud all over your face as he grumbles. “Unless, maybe you care to keep me company for one ni-”
“My darling, pray tell, did you know that the Greeks figured the pomegranate to be symbols of abundance and fertility?” A smooth, simpering voice cuts in- and so does a slender hand that stretches its pale fingertips to clasp the pomegranate in Naoya’s palm.
What? You’re blinking at rapid-fire speed, looking from the familiar newcomer to where you’d just been staring seconds prior - how was he here? So quickly? All of a sudden?
And Gojo doesn’t even let out a pant of fatigue as if he’d been running, only curving his lips into an icy smile down at the other man. “The Lord speaks through consumption. Planning to expand the family, mister Naoya?”
“I- you-” Naoya strangles out, he jabs. A finger right into the smiling face of Gojo, and then into the space between you two. “My ol’ man shall hear of this. See how holy you really are when you’re-”
Gojo grins, leaning down from his towering height as if he was speaking to a child. “He shall be welcome to find me. Sermons are on Sundays.”
“Tch-”
With one last glower, and a few more muttered words underneath his breath, you can only watch in speechless amusement as the seething man promptly turns his back and saunters away. Fast. Furious.
“You have saved me yet again.” You’re breathing out in relief, finally raising your head to look up and oh- did he look absolutely magnetic bathed in the blood-orange light of the setting sun. “How can I ever repay you?”
“I do beg your pardon, to defend your holy honor is the least I can do, beloved.” And you don’t know where to look - the dimples decorating Gojo’s cheeky grin, or the peripheral vision of Miwa beside you mouthing ‘beloved’ in shock.
But Gojo always does steal your attention away in the end, and the buzzing marketplace rings with the snap–! of his bare, neat nails cracking open the outer rind of the pomegranate.
Letting thin trails of crimson run down his wrist like blood, “I was not jesting about the Greeks and their belief of fertility.” You gulp as his pinkish tongue darts out just teasingly to run down a stray droplet of juice before it inched too close to his long sleeves. “Try it, my angel.”
Before you can say a word, one hand tucks his Bible, and the other holds a clump of bright, beaded pomegranate to your quivering lips.
And you swear you hear the bookseller gasp! when you gingerly take it into your mouth. Humming at the explosion of sweet, saccharine syrup. “I can see why- about the Greeks, I mean. Now, if only that snake Mahito didn’t swindle me of the price each time.”
“Hm, is that so?” He huffs out slightly deep laughter, sharing more fruit. “But this was no idle trip to the market today. Truth be told, I came, with earnest heart, to see you.”
“M-me?”
Unaware of the restlessness he’s seeping through your very veins, Gojo tucks a free hand between his Bible and pulls out a long, now-fixed rosary. The very same one you’d accidentally torn apart just the night before-
“It was to give you this.”
Your ears burn with the hushed, pointed whispers of the market as he reverently puts the necklace ‘round your neck. And the cold flowers of the pearly chain nearly sizzle against your skin. “O-oh, thank you, Father-”
“Satoru.” Gojo smiles. He nods.
He reaches over to hold one of your clasping hands, pressing his mouth against your pomegranate-stained fingertips. In an instant. Red, red juice drips from the ends of your digits and stains his lips scarlet - almost in a kiss.
Oh.
He taps the nearby book stall in goodbye, “Until next time, my darling. Have a blessed day.”
With that - and nothing more - as swiftly, and as quietly as he’d arrived, Gojo Satoru was disappearing back into the thronged crowd. Cross on his chest, Bible in hand.
And you barely register the giddy whispers of Miwa- all but gripping your shoulders and jostling you back and forth at the excitement of coming across the most scandalous piece of gossip to hit this town since the vampires.
Hissing feverishly, “-way he cast his eyes upon you and- and how long has this been going on?”
“I uh-” At this point she was shaking you, much to the amusement of passersby. Monotone, “Don’t you have your mother’s stall to run, kid- oh.”
And something catches your eye, something tattered. Something blue.
Something that you swear looked exactly like that old book Gojo had for but a mere split-second in his arms last night. Neatly piled at the top of Miwa’s column of novels on sale. And you can’t stop yourself from pointing, “Hey, what’s the price of that book?”
“Oh? Hm…” Picking it up, she scrunches her eyes in thought. “I don’t remember such a book being here, least of all in this condition- my momma would’ve skinned me alive.” Then, suddenly she perks up. “Tell ya what- you tell me more on wha’s happening between you and Father Gojo and I’ll give you this here thing for free.”
.
.
.
There wasn’t much that one could do during a monsoon rain, and raindrops fall heavy on the roof of your cozy lil’ home. Making the wooden structure creak and sing you to relaxation as you tried to take your mind off of what happened when night arrives.
Who arrives, as night does.
“I’m starting to spook my own self.” You’re notching up your oil lamp to flare up even brighter; so long as you had this, no vampire would set his clutches on you.
Sighing, you search for a distraction in your gunnysack bags from the marketplace. Leftover fruits still good, a stray few hairpins, and oh-
A soft gasp leaves your mouth as you find it - that small, blue book you’d bought just a few days ago, not having had the time to read through just yet. No author. No date. Yet, you look over the faded gold print of the cover, “‘Scripture of Shadows’, huh?”
Satisfied, you drag your armchair to where your oil lamp sat sleepily on a windowsill, and start to read by flickering fire light.
‘Prologue: On Creatures That Walk Among Us.
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against. —Ephesians 6:12
In the years of my ministerial labors, I have come to learn that one may never truly know what walks alongside you. There are creatures in every shadow you look - though you may not see.
Out past the edge of God’s hand, these things are borne of hunger and sin - they may be cursed, fallen, or bound to their flesh cruth; salvaged only by thirst that no godly mortal can explain. I have seen them, spirits of ruin that massacre entire herds and weep alongside the shepherd in the waking morn’.
Yes, dear reader, they may take shapes you belove—wolf, woman, child, lover. And above them all, vampires-’
The flash of lightning, the grumble of thunder- you’re jumping in your seat and nearly slamming the heavy tome shut with a yelp. Wide-eyed, you take a hasty glance through the window, feeling your skin blanket in skittering goosebumps.
“Dear gods-” Breathless, you’re flipping through a few more pages on vampires and other such entities to settle on a random chapter.
‘Chapter Four: The Myth of the Vampyre.’
Heavens, why was this always following you like so? And what was Father Gojo doing reading up on such a thing- skipping a few paragraphs and scriptures, you continue reading in honed silence.
‘Perhaps the most cunning of demonic creatures. Not truly dead, nor truly alive, the vampyre boasts the most fearful humanly power of all—beauty. Indeed, they possess much more; overwhelming strength, teeth to kill, speed to hunt. And yet, I have seen more mortals fall victim to the enticing nature of the vampyre than any other creature.’
Perhaps it was the topics taled in the book, perhaps it was the raging storm outside, but you can’t help but squirm restlessly in your seat as you feel oddly…watched.
‘Let this scripture stand, then, not as idle fancy, but as a caution towards the charismature essence of the vampyre. With this, most hold positions of great authority. Infiltrating even the most tight-knit towns with ease - among them, mayors, teachers, merchants, and mostly-’
Someone was watching you.
You stare up at the empty, pitch-black square of your window. And then back down past a few paragraphs-
‘But fear not, dear reader, though they cross realms of living and shadow, the vampyre has one confirmed flaw - not sunlight, nor garlic, as tales claim. It is barred from thresholds unbidden, for only when an invitation is offered, may the creature enter. And Revelation 3:20–’
You look up.
The empty window.
The full book.
‘Take care to hold forth the crucifix and be not deceived by beauty or charm. But be cautioned, god-fearing reader, even vampyres have tales of legends. Those of their kind so infamous-’
The empty window.
The full book.
‘-that we hear merely brief whispers of his name, one so vicious and almighty that even vampyres dare not evoke His anger.’
The empty window.
‘An omniscient being amongst even creatures of the shadows, his name-’
A flash of blue-
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
You gasp.
Urgently, you drop the book and hurry to the ramming fist at your door, more to get away from its words than anything else.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
“C-coming–!”
Your rickety front door creaks as you swing it open, immediately struck with the light of the storm and the icy breath of rain. Wincing against the droplets of water that hit your face, you can just barely make out the flicker of blue, blue eyes.
Gojo tips his hat to you solemnly, “I pray I’m not disturbing you, my angel.” His deep voice rings out, curiously above even the howl of the wind, and his pretty face simply looks haunted. “Forgive the haste, but I came straight away- there’s been another attack.”
Out of breath, “A-another vampire attack?”
“We fear so, ranch hand Mahito this time. Neck punctured, eyes white- God have mercy on us.” He shakes his head, “The town’s congregatin’ for a special Mass tomorrow, I would like it if you were to join us together to pray for the four lost souls.”
“Of course of course.” You’re taking in the layers of water that soak through Gojo’s dark robes, skin-tight over his heaving chest. Opening your door wider invitingly, “Please, come on in. Oh, you’re just drenched.”
And he opens his eyes just a tad wider, he curls his lips just a slight further.
“I fear I cannot, beloved. So many more houses to alert.”
Gawking at yet another clap of lightning- “In this storm?”
And you have no idea how he can just smile like that during dark times like these. The pearly whites of his canines wafting near the shell of your ear as Gojo leans in- whispering. “Worried for me?”
He takes a step, his rain-soaked clothes chill your skin as he inches forwards. Then another step, trying to listen in for your breaths. Your lack of an answer. “You should be worried. Though, not for me.”
Lashes fluttering, “Wh-what do you…”
“Be careful, my angel.” And your collarbones turn humid with the steam of his breath, the way he’s moving his ajar maw down. “You’d do well not to open the door for strangers. Lest you wish to invite…” Down, down, down—“-a vampire.”
You wait - gasps stuttered, fists clenching once he takes a step past your doorway. Just a singular, miniscule step-
Only to brush off something invisible from your shoulder, touch warm on your skin.
“I bid you a goodnight, my darling. Rest well.”
And with that Father Gojo was gone, and so was any wink of sleep that very night. Or any memory of that book, now laying as open and untouched as it had been left on the floor.
.
.
.
“I ask you not to give into fear- neither anger, nor isolation. Solely to the word of God.” Gojo’s fervent voice sing-songs over the numerous pews. Hands waving, feet stepping. “And I ask you to watch over your kin, pray over those lost, and keep your lamps lit with the faith that He watches.”
It was impossible to tear your eyes off of him.
And you’re sure that the elderly lady seated right beside you was drenching her fifth handkerchief in tears already.
“Trust in me, as I trust in Him. For even in the darkest night, there is still light to be found. For no creature can snuff out the soul of one who believes…”
As you’re nodding, you can’t help but feel that familiar sensation of eyes burning into you. Though, softer than last night- less…frightening. Darting your line of sight behind you to catch Naoya assessing you- and you couldn’t snap your head back faster.
Instead, catching Gojo’s own twinkling eyes as he finishes his sermon.
“And who is a vampire to Him? Go forth, and may the Lord be with you. Amen.”
There’s a rush after concluding rites, a crowd forming around Gojo before he can take even a step from the polished pulpit. And just as you close your books to stand from your seat yourself, ready to head home- something tugs on your wrist.
“Oi- I still have a bone to pick with you, missy.”
Or more…someone.
“Naoya.” You’re deadpanning, snatching your wrist free to stare him down with a glare that was utterly not suited for the place you were in right now. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He spears his index your way, “Don’t you go thinking that I’ve forgotten ‘bout you and that tch- preacher.”
Standing your own, you sneak glances at the thinning crowd and just pray they won’t give this little quarrel an ear. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Telling me nothing’s happened, sweetcheeks?” Naoya huffs, “I heard you talkin’ with that sobbing hag- saying how he invited you personally for today’s sermon.”
“Why, yes. What seems to be the problem?”
“You think he went knockin’ on any of our doors at the dead of night?”
Your brows furrow, wouldn’t he have? After all, it was what he said.
“But, of course, he’s gonna invite you personally. The day right there by the fruit stall? The way he was undressing you with his eyes today—I wouldn’t be a darn bit surprised if he’s laid with a shameless woman like you already-”
“And if that is so? Jealous?”
Naoya gasps, and so do about fifteen of the nosy townsfolk lingering by the pews.
Wincing as Naoya’s grating voice threatens to speak once more–
“Mind your tongue, mister Naoya.” A steady hand claps down on the shorter man’s shoulder, and this silvery bangs flick towards the interruption of the one and only priest. “We stand on hallowed ground.”
Just as he turns his fury towards Gojo instead, his palm squeezes where it lay- hard enough that you can hear the faint pop! of something emanating from the contact. And before he can say any further, Gojo tilts his head down to whisper something in Naoya’s ear.
Something that has him pale. Trembling. And rushing out of the church faster than you can even blink.
As Gojo smiles at the rest of your company in a polite dismissal, you’re fighting back an awed whistle from your throat. “Pardon my language but-” Eyes steady on his rapidly retreating figure, shoving past each attendee misfortunate enough to cross his path. “-what in blazes did you say to him, Father-”
“Satoru.”
You grin, “Gojo.”
“And ah, I only spoke the truth- that this was God’s sanctuary.” He tilts his head with a beam, though, there’s something about it that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And perhaps something of his father…”
“You’re the devil.”
“Quite the opposite.” Never one to care for gossip, Gojo wastes not a second leaning down till his breath wafted your cheeks. Snowy brows pinched into one of regret, “That reminds me, do forgive my intrusion last night, beloved, I pray I didn’t come at a bad time.”
You flail your hands in disagreement, “Oh, heavens no-” In fact, the eerie book rested upon your bookshelf, and you couldn’t have asked for a more welcome interruption. “I was just…reading a book, you see.”
“So you say.”
Carefully watching for his reaction, “Called um- ‘Scripture of Shadows.’”
And if you expected him to gasp- if you expected Gojo to even blink at the familiar title, then he doesn’t give you the satisfaction. Only nodding his head in deep understanding, “Anything interesting in that book, my angel?”
“Only fearful.”
He jests, “Then you should devote those eyes to the Lord.”
You grip your rosary, “I shall do both.”
“Good.” The call of Gojo’s names for blessings and prayers were often, and he nods his head towards a group beckoning him over. As he turns to walk away–“Chapter six is particularly fascinating…and I have plans to reread it tonight.” He whispers, just barely audible over the sound of footsteps on the hardwood holy floor. “My door is always open for you, my darling.”
Oh.
.
.
.
Step.
Step.
Step.
“Hello?”
You didn’t know whether it was the darkness or the taboo in what you were doing that had your footsteps rattling in noisy unison with your heartbeat.
It was dark - dark enough outside that the neighbors wouldn’t be able to make out your flickering oil lamp through the blanket of the night. Light in one hand, your book in the other, you let yourself slip through the unlocked gates of the church, making your way down the winding hallway that you knew led to Father Gojo’s office.
Though, it was not the church like you’d ever known it.
And you’d known it crumbling from the walls, you’d known it manifested into something grand - but never so…chilling.
Each candle was snuffed out, puffing out ghosts of smoke that curled up in the high hallway. Clinging onto your shivering shoulders and making you flinch at each miniscule noise in the distance- “Father Gojo? Are you present toni- mmpf.”
Your mouth gapes, aghast, nose wrinkling when it felt like you’d just been run over by a carriage. But, it wasn’t a carriage at all - it was a thick, metallic scent that permeated the frigid air and made you stop straight in your tracks.
Hand coming up to cup your mouth, “What is that godforsaken smell?”
Step.
Step.
And it only gets thicker. More relentless.
Soon enough you’re fully closing your tingling nostrils with your palm and hopelessly praying that it was only a passing perfume. For this wasn’t just the tinge of metal you might smell as you pass the time piece-maker, rather, it was heavy. Slightly sweet.
Step.
The one you’d smell on the butcher.
Iron.
Your eyes widen- blood.
Gojo.
Running.
All but sprinting, you’re staggering further down the hallway to where you’d remembered were his quarters. Following the faint memory of his candlelit office, fear laces its frosty grip ‘round your heart as you call out. “F-father Go- oh!”
And it seems you’d forgotten that light reveals more in the shadows than you might want to see.
Red.
Red, red pools paint the grey stone of the church in a bloody mosaic.
You gasp, body running a few steps backwards on pure instinct at the pale hand sinking into the blood like a desolate ship. Mindlessly, the hand holding your oil lamp jerks over to reveal pale, silvery bangs peeking out from the crimson puddle.
Your heart races- was this. No. Stepping tentatively closer, your mouth drops as once you spy a few stray strands of deep, two-toned black. Naoya.
“Bitter.”
Slowly…achingly…your quivering oil lamp raises up to the darkness behind Naoya’s corpse. And there you see it - two bright, harrowing eyes of azure blue that bored into your very soul from beyond.
His eyes.
Just a flash of those, a mere single glimpse is all that you’re given before the light crashes down to the ground, and you’re both plunged into darkness.
Both you and Gojo Satoru.
Who shoves you against the nearest wall with such inhuman speed, so fast that you don’t even have the time to register it, register your rosary breaking.
One hand slamming down on the rocky wall above you, hard enough to make it crater an outline of his five fingers. The other cupping your cheek gently- almost gingerly, as if afraid to use his true strength with you.
“Five bodies.” He rasps, and in the grimy lighting you can see two elongated glints of his canines, “Five bodies. All five of them bitter, but you, my darling…”
Before you can even take a closer look, he’s stuffing his face into the thrumming skin at the crook of your neck and drinking in a deeeeep inhale. A sigh. A groan.
“-I would kill for but a taste.”
And he already has, you’re realizing.
You stammer, staring up into his pale, stoic face - looking at him properly now.
From the sharp fangs poking through his rosy lips, to the beauty that was so incredible that it was other-worldly. He had a trail of dark red blood staining one side of his maw, a few droplets spattered onto the whites of his roman collar.
“Y-you’re-”
“Say it.”
“You’re a vampire.”
Whimpering at the ice-cold breath that haunts your flesh, your pulse. “And you’re a delicacy.” He’s enveloping all of you, as if you were ripe for the picking- and you can feel the way your thighs tremble when Gojo’s pushing himself harder against your body. He’s holding you.
Cassock rubbin’ your front, your book falling, golden cross startling.
Gojo raises his refined nose into the air just once to sniff, before the most simpering tone bleeds into his voice. “How adorable.”
“Wh-what you- oh!”
It seems you can’t help but fail in catching your breath whenever he’s around, even though it might just be your last. And Gojo slithers out his long, pinkish tongue to sliiiide down your racing pulse - wet and hot on your flesh, he’s tasting you. Savoring you. Enough to make something instantly hard n’ raw tug through the layers of his holy robe.
One that he ruts between your legs-
Gojo tilts your face up by your jaw, nailmarks dotting your chin. He gives you a sensual peck, “Let me show you what true carnal pleasures are, little human.”
Maybe you’re nodding, maybe you’re simply gasping at the shock of his touch and bucking your hips up wildly - because that’s all it takes.
All that it takes for Gojo to scoop your weakened knees underneath a singular arm and turn- almost as soon as he did, you’re blinking your eyes to stare up at the ornate ceiling of the priest’s quarters.
Right now you’re laid out across the large, cushioned couch in the middle of his room. Legs sprawled out embarrassingly, dress hiked high up to your knees where Gojo had kneeled himself on the floor in front of you.
Speed to hunt, the book had said.
The very same book that he was now twirling between two pinched fingers and humming idly, “My my, it seems that you haven’t even read chapter four properly, my darling. Going against holy orders? Now, how should we rectify that, hm?”
Fingers itching for the hem of your skirts, “P-please-”
“Oh, the Lord has spoken to me.” Gojo gasps, suddenly, as if he’d just come to an epiphany. And his smile is simply sinful, sapphire eyes glowing- the very same ones you’d seen that night. “Bend.”
“Wha- hey!”
In a nanosecond, he’s manhandling you like a puppet. Making you crawl onto your knees with your front plastered against the high seat of the couch. Arched directly in front of his salivating maw-
“This shan’t work if your heart didn’t will it, my angel.” Gojo muses, shit, how gorgeous you looked like this. Bent and ready for him. He doesn’t even have to make use of his inhuman eyesight to locate that pretty damp spot blotchily drenching through your dress.
You were so wet that all he had to do was lean his nose closer and sniff to drink in that sweet, heavenly scent of you. “Oh.” Gojo’s sharp nails tug on the hem of your thin dress, “Oh.”
Rip-rip-riiiiip—!
Every inch of your clothing melts like butter underneath his power, and the only thing you can do is whimper as you lay your spine arched. Thin panties the only thing you had on underneath during this humid night.
“Fuck.”
It’s the last thing you hear before Gojo’s lengthy tongue probes at your sheeny inner thighs and laps up- not your drooling, puffy core where you’d needed him the most.
But instead the slight cut that had grazed your heated flesh as he tore off your dress- Gojo moans the instant your taste hits his tongue. Red-hot.
Not even having to breathe, but his pants were labored, “Fuck.” The sloppy drag of his moistened muscle lets out the most sinful slurp when he’s licking and licking before nothing else is left of your crimson. And then he’s inching his tastebuds up your thighs. He wanted more. Needed it this very instant, all the patience of these immortal years and it wouldn’t be enough. Not even caring for your paper-thin panties, “Fuck-”
Hastily stuffing the quivering orifice of your puffy with his fat girth- before scoffing at the complete n’ utter tightness that wouldn’t let him go completely in. “Pure as a dove, aren’t you, beloved?”
“I-I’ve never…” Tearfully mewling at the burning streeeetch, Gojo’s tongue was just so massive that even the slightest probe inside made your head loopy. “Never done…this.”
The only thing he does is spank a hand down at the edge of your spine to make you bend even further- “Then show me how devoted you are.” Straight into his mouth. Straight into a pert, pretty target for him to spit. Thick, globular, and wet. “Show it to me, my darling.”
And it’s maddening how it’s the last thing that Gojo can get out before he flicks his sizzling tongue through your undergarments to taste down your slit. Letting the slippery wads of your slick fill up his tastebuds and make him groan-
You gawk over your shoulder when his eyes only dilate, sharp fangs growing even sharper. “Show-”
With a hand groping the left of your ass cheeks, he’s tuggin’ you all back to him with an inhuman strength that makes you keen.
That makes his metallic crucifix press against the backs of your thighs. Fanged lips hovering over your outer pussy as he wetly nuzzles aside your panties to slip his tongue past-
You buck, “Sh-shit, Gojo-”
“Oh.” He’s shuddering at the act of you bucking up stupidly, chasing the temperate French kiss of his mean mouth. Giving him even more of a taste that he just can’t take it-
“Dear heavenly father, I thank you for this meal.”
And then it all happens at once- your soggy panties are torn off you in a split-second, Gojo’s mouth replacing it even more rapidly.
Bent over the chair, he’s eating out your saccharine sweet pussy like a beast starved.
He glues his upper lip against the swollen nub of your clit and you whine at the sharp sting of Gojo’s fangs digging right up against your bundle of nerves. Sucking. Tasting. Until his cheeks are all hollowed out with the friction of his suckling and he’s still forcing himself deeper into your pussy for more.
“Oh g- fuck.” Head throwing back stupidly, his nose nudges against the very tip-top of your treacly cunt. “It feels so, so good-”
“A meal this exquisite- never in my s-six hundred years.” He’s muttering between the swollen folds of your pussy, lining your slippery slit with the long line of his nosebridge.
So messy. Gojo snickers in lewd amusement at the way you’re rolling your hips back to ride n’ slide his nose. He’s rovering his mouth everywhere, glassy eyes half-lidded until he’s simply moving in pure primal instinct to slap the curl of his long, lecherous tongue by the edge of your dampened hole.
Tugging the rubbery circle of it just enough to make you whimper, he circles out soppy patterns that stretch out your cunt. Back and forth back and forth until your limbs weaken. “Have you just finished your monthly dues, my angel?”
You’re gripping onto the wooden headboard of the chair for sweet relief, “Y-yes?”
“That explains it.” And then he nuzzles in nose-deep and even deeper into your drivelling pussy, up n’ down to latch onto your clit and bite. “The next time, you tell me first. I know exactly how to…”
Murmured straight into your hot pussy, mouth departing such a guttural groan as he feels your sap splash down with a noisy squelch. Alllll down his pointed chin and where he’s creepin’ up one of his free hands to caress your glossy outer pussy. “-help.”
Squealing, you’re feeling just the thick crown of his index poke your cunt. “A-are you putting your ngh- fingers in?”
“I said I shan’t lay a hand on you.” And just then, the doughy palm of his second palm pushes your legs wide apart, not nearly enough to distract you from the flick of his flexible tongue and the way he smooches your filthy hole with yet another cushy fingerpad. “I shall lay two.”
And then you’re seeing raw white in your vision, the feeling of Gojo pushin’ his two ringed fingers past your first tight ring of muscle too much to bear.
Thick enough that you’re struggling to squeeze him inside- “Fuck back t’me- fuck back-”
“L-like this?”
He’s matching your sluggishly sensual pace, nose wrinkling sinfully at the velvety texture of your insides. Gojo’s cross necklace swats your thighs with each constant lurch of his head, crooning out. “Yes- yes. Oh, hell.”
He scrapes the mushy roof of your walls with his deep black purity ring, the cold material thrusting into your most sweetest spots and making him grin. “This is devotion, beloved.”
“Y-you’re just so big- nghhhh–” Your moans strike against the wide chamber and echo all across the building. Hips rutting back to feel his prolonged digits all the way down to the mountains of his knobbly knuckles, “Why are your fingers so big?”
“Only to please you, my darling.” And oh- oh, it was such a tight fit.
Gojo can’t help but salivate the slimy tip of his tongue down your silvery slit and fucking pry your pussylips apart to let your snug channel take him deeper. Harder. Faster. The roaming shapes of his long, long digits scissor just so that he can stir apart your gluey walls and let you gush out slick.
Licking his way inside while he’s pushing into each nook n’ cranny- hitting down all the way to the base ends of his digits with a right thwack!
“And you’re just so- ngh- looong—”
“Only to find-” Oh, you didn’t forget about those eyes of his, did you? Because right after he’s letting off a murky gust of those syllables, Gojo’s eyes glow- his fingers hammer - exactly into the bulging area of your g-spot. He’s seeing right through you. “-this sweet thing better, my darling.”
And then it’s absolutely driving you crazy- Gojo’s fingers are just so incredibly rude, swatting a furious back and forth. Thrash-thrash-thrash, determinedly perking up his fingerpads to push his purity ring against your g-spot and watch as you cutely flinch.
“You’re so- oh- oh my god-” Making each scrape against your sweet spots so sensitive, pump after pump.
“I prefer…Satoru.”
He’s letting out a husky snicker each time he’s plunging into the deepest of your melty depths. Maw now gaping widely ajar to scoop up every glittery ribbon of slick that trickled from between your folds. He’s hungry- thirsting like a vampire parched for six hundred years n’ now he can only gulp in the first meal of his lifetime - you.
You’re bending your pussy to slope down against his mouth and he has the audacity to give you a sweet, puckered smooch. Innocent. “C’mon say it- pray.”
“Please-”
“Not what I asked, beloved.”
Your throat rips with such a carnal shrill at the pudgy crown of his third finger desperately trying to find a way in. Pushing- pap! pap! pap! “Pleeeease- ngh- Satoru. Satoru, fuck-”
SPANK!
Such glistening beads of pearly slap stream n’ gush all down the front of Gojo’s bobbing throat the very moment he swats his plush palm down across your cunt. “Profanity is a desecration of the church, my angel.”
Another spank. Another splurging squelch of your pussy talking out in leaks of your sweet, sweet juices. And Gojo only nods along as if in conversation, “How wonderful of you to volunteer to read chapter six in repentance-” Some invisible force of his powers is guiding your familiar shadowy book to your hands. “-and recite it in perfect condition, too.”
“But-”
“Perfect-” Just as a third finger spears its way between your slick-glazed pussylips and finds itself mazing down your walls, headed straight for your g-spot with a thump. Grinning. Voice airy. “-condition.”
A tiiiight fit, that makes you fumble with your poor book, your eyes whirling in the exact lecherous patterns he’s drawling out on your wettened cunt. Each sloppy slurp Gojo’s drinking in enough to make your wrists weaken-
“Ch-chapter six: The Vampyre’s ngh- Beloved.” Unsure of what has your mind spinning more, the title or the way that he’s picking his pace up angrily. “Many are unaware of- hah! the one weakness of the- fuck.”
Tittering, his dimples peek. “Keep going.”
“-the vampyre- hnghhh–”
“Don’t make me- oh.” And before you know it, not only does he have three of his fingers rummagin’ inside. But also the slither of his tastebuds stuffing insides- his vampire tongue so lengthy that it squeezes and squeezes ‘round your tight rim till he’s rutting his flushed cheeks against your cunt.
And the underside of your stomach crackles with a few sparks of bliss, “-the vampyre- their one true love.”
“Mmmmm, yes. Say that again.”
“O-one true love?”
Gojo’s pulling back his tongue with a wettened squelch. Ravenous. Feral. He’s getting himself drunk on each drag that your restless body was quivering out - now moving everywhere and anywhere.
Faster. Sloppier.
Fucking back inside your hole. Slapping over your clit. Biting down on the swollen edge of your pussy just to hear those pretty cries, “One true love-” Then sticking the damp edges of his bangs to tickle your skin, he suckles on your clit like gum. “-my one true love.”
Again and again.
Moving so rapidly- it’s like he’s in three places at once. Swirling the long edge of his tongue around and around your walls until you’re babbling stupidly, “The fated mate- ngh- soulmate…?” Skipping paragraphs, enough to make Gojo give your pussy a quick spank.
“All scripture is God-breathed.”
“-c-can induce a different kind of bite in the vampyre. An unexplainable soul tie that happens merely once in- haaah- eternity- one that vampyres tear down heaven and hell for.” Oh, that gets him excited.
Flicking his tongue furiously in hearts upon hearts on top of your sensitive clit now. Thoroughly. Feverishly, you’re half-wondering whether his lips weren’t aching- “And one such known- ngh- vampyre in search-”
“Yeeees–?”
“Gojo Satoru.”
And then you’re hitting it- that lewd, lecherous crash of your orgasm that’d been building up for what felt like eons at this point.
“O-oh my god-” Was this what all those filthy romance books you hid away meant? It was so much better than a lonely night with your hand. You were cumming so hard that you’re seeing comical stars, letting go of the book. “Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru- I-I’m-”
“All over my face now. All over, my darling. C’mon.”
You didn’t even know where it started, you didn’t know where it ended.
Just that it had your poor, trembling pussylips plastered to Gojo’s mouth like he was attaching it with adhesive.
Inhuman strength holding your thighs down to stop you from even recoiling- because anything that would break off the rubbing massage of your cunt was something he had to halt. You were creamin’ all down Gojo Satoru’s face and he was making sure it stayed that way.
“Yes- yeeeees, that’s it. That’s it. Never in my life have I- hah-” Even speaking was such a difficult endeavor for him, not when he couldn’t bear to pull away mere inches from your gushing pussy. “-been more grateful for the fact that I don’t need to breathe.”
Thighs shaking, goosebumps taking over. You arch your back with a whine at the repeated flicks of his tongue on your clit- in dual stimulation with your g-spot. “B-but I do-”
In response, Gojo’s only crushing your poor pussy against his face further. “Hmmm- heh.”
Only fucking you juuust a bit more with the coiling ends of his tongue, oh-so-lengthy like a snake’s. He swabs the bruised corners of your walls a few more times, gurgling through each fleck of gooey sap that escaped you. Before pulling back with such a loud, dramatic mwah! “Amen.”
Shocked, you flip your woozy head backwards to catch sight of his sleazy smirk, the way that his summer-blue eyes seemed to spark. Feeling your legs twitch slightly with the jolts of your high, “A-and about the vampire’s Beloved?”
“Huh? Oh.” Blinking his dazed eyes, he’s so pussydrunk that it takes Gojo a few seconds to even register what you’d just asked. “Well…will this prove my scripture’s truth, beloved?”
You’re being treated like a cute lil’ ragdoll at this point; because it doesn’t even take seconds for Gojo to perch a rude hand on the side of your hips and flip you over.
With your back now against the cushion, you’re grappling for the woody bearings of the chair as he holds your ankles wide apart and lodges himself between them. “How devoted I am?”
“D-devoted?” You’re puffing out a humid breath, and your chin strikes your chest in your hurry to ogle the entire sight of Gojo Satoru. Because oh…oh, was he such an utter sight.
Your slick sheens the entire lower half of his handsome face- all the way up to his damn, ruddied cheekbones. Dripping down in sticky sloshes all across the hollows of his cheeks, and down his pointed fangs. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in just how glistening they were with all your glazes of sweet juices.
He was wearing it like a mark of honor.
“So. Hopelessly. Devoted.”
Staining his neckline of his dark cassock even darker, you can’t help but notice that you were completely exposed while he was still dressed in his priests’ robes. Right down to the gold cross.
Gojo slaps down the edge of his coral pink tongue to lick up the cloying excess glued to his mouth, staring dead-on at you all the while. “Oh…are you aware that I can smell whenever that pretty pussy gets even wetter?”
“Y-you can?” You’re hissing, trying to close your legs but you can’t - not with Gojo pushing himself between them.
“It’s delicious.” Even deeper. Even wider, he stretches your legs and hunches over with his towering frame to fit a fat thumb between your spit-glossed lips. “I can smell your blood.” Sniffing your throbbing pulse, “Your need.” He glides his digit down your canines, so much more blunt than his fangs.
“And–?”
He looks down with a grin, “Your pussy.”
And Gojo could already sense your lewd impatience, holding onto the side of your waist with one hand- and the other pulling back to fumble with the golden buttons of his robes.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
“Satoru-”
“Ah ah.” He was such a damn tease. Unbuttoning only about halfway down his fitted cassock and black clerical shirt. Just enough for you to be spying his extremely chiseled front, from the bulge of his curvy pecs, to the ridges of his abs.
He was oh-so-naturally sexy that it made your mouth water. Ripped core flexing once he’s removing his belt and tugging down those pants of his, robes lifted now. Not enough for you.
But just enough that his red, aching cock springs free and hits the pure white happy trail on his abs with a thwack!
Nine- maybe even ten thick inches. And you can only speechlessly gape, because he wasn’t just rock-hard…he was so hard n’ heavy that it must’ve been painful, like every drop of blood in his pale body was surging up to the bulbous tip of his cockhead.
Gojo’s mushroomy tip blushes a scorching hot pink and leaks out hot precum as if he’s melting, a translucent splat! straight between the slitted slope of your pussy. “Any last words?”
You’re trembling, “L-last words?”
“Mmm—” He’s sandwiching the girth of his fat, veiny cock between your folds. Just so thick that your pussylips are already being spread near their absolute max- and was that…
You gasp, surging your head down and oh- you were feeling it right. Each n’ every time Gojo’s sliiiding his length between your cunt, your clit snags on the cold, bulging nib of something. A piercing. He had a piercing.
Like one of those you’d only heard they had in large cities and oh, you weren’t making it out of this alive.
“M’gonna eat you alive, my angel.”
As if he’d just read your mind.
And you wouldn’t be surprised if he could- pure cottony static entering your brain the very second that Gojo’s aligning his smooth tip at your entrance and pushing.
The stretch is so much that you can only blink your teary lashes and keen– “I-it’s so big- oh, shit, go easy on me, Satoru.” Especially when you’ve never been stretched out like this before.
So-very-vulgarly, Gojo only hovers his wet-glazed thumb down to tip aside your plush folds. It was so cute, like your swollen pussy was puckering right up at him every time he nudged his hips back to give your tight hole a good probe.
“Is that all?” He’s inspecting with a grin, ringed fingers pryin’ your dewy cunt apart. Mindlessly rutting- bucking- “Six hundred years and s’that all you can take, beloved?”
Clearly teasing, but the thought of taking all his barrelling shaft makes your back arch wildly. Whimpering after every smooch of his orbed piercing, “I-I can make all of that fit?”
“No.” Gojo snickers, but even that sounds unsteady. Even that sounded like it was on the very verge of shattering into a zillion pieces, and he’s only sinking a finger inside your pussy to stretch you out. To force his raging dick to break off from your clammy cunt to push and push. “But I will make it fit.”
And then it’s like you’re losing your mind- seeing white behind the lids of your eyes when he’s sinking in a few fat, heavy inches.
Hissing underneath his breath, Gojo’s moving the hand at your hips over to your throat to pin you down.
“C’mon-” Chortling, he uses it to keep you still as he ruts- “C’mon c’mon-” And ruts, burying your upper half into the couch cushion as he swerves his hips deeper. The stretch just vicious, your elastic entrance is being oh-so-tugged to his very size. “Acting like such a sinful girl– and you shall be dealt with as such. Now, open those legs wider, my darling.”
“Oh-oh, god- Satoru-”
Choking you, his big, beefy biceps flex once he’s pulling you down by your neck. Meaty thighs gluing flush against your own, his fangs peek in a grin. “Yes and yes.”
Languidly, Gojo’s pumping himself deeper to fill out each slick ridge and orifice. Prince Albert’s piercing decorating the very line of his sensitive slit, he’s acting like it’s a spotlight to massage every spot inside of you.
Letting the puffy entrance of your pussy stretch-stretch-streeeetching-
“F-fuck.” Gojo lets out, all of a sudden. Barely even audible over the resounding plop! that lets off from the damp space between your thighs when he’s finally - finally - bottoming out.
Finally.
And oh– it takes a few seconds to register inside your mind, did you just make the infamous Gojo Satoru stutter? Mewling in bewilderment, “D-did you just…did you just fit all- hck!”
He groans—“Sure did.” But there’s something dopey in his tone, something that sounds like utter fucking disbelief. Gojo rovers his hand over your plump cylindrical tummy bulge - he was so big that he could tap his thumb down on the hill of his cockhead poking through. “Fuck.”
Then it’s like the floodgates open. The floodgates shatter.
Gojo’s fangs elongate, his eyes slit almost menacingly- and he’s throwing your boneless legs over his shoulder to push you down into the tightest possible mating press.
A mating press.
Hand slamming down on the couch’s oak frame hard enough for it to splinter, “Fuck.” He’s croaking out like a broken record as soon as he’s gifting your goopy cunt with the first thrust. “Fuh-fuck.”
Then the second, the third, the fourth- smashing against that cute spongy cervix at the bottom of your pussy. Gojo rubs his swollen veins raw on the gummy texture of your walls, feeling a little part of his sanity crack each time.
“Oh my- ngh- fuuuuck, Satoru–” You’re wailing out whimpering, fingers valleying through the locks of his ivory hair and pulling. “It’s so big- h-hngh- how’s it even going in-”
“If only your eyes may gaze upon what I can.” The edges of his blue eyes sizzle with power, and shit, he’s seeing right through your drooling cunt.
Using the lecherous advantage of his powers to swerve his hips just right, he knocks the flared end of his tip right at the target of your g-spot. Extra, extra blissful with the way his chilling piercing slips n’ snags just right across that particular orifice.
“Then you’d know that this is the only- ngh- heaven that a creature like I shall ever taste. The only heaven that I shall…fuck.”
Digits twitching on his clammy scalp, “O-oh.”
And you just look so pretty like this- lips sprayed with bubbles of drool, your eyes rolling cartoonishly every time he struck the bottom of your pussy, chest heaving.
So Gojo can’t help but feel your gushing pussy clench ‘round his cock and gasp- and slouch. Maw sagging fully open, cross hitting your chest, he’s furrowing his brows down at you- yeah, the most beautiful thing he’s seen since he was turned six hundred years ago.
Letting go of teasing that tummy bulge, he holds your left hand - tenderly.
And Gojo, for all his riches, might not have an engagement ring ready yet; which is why you’re feeling the cool slip of his purity ring make way onto your ring finger. Blinking dazedly, “C-can the Father even- ngh- propose?”
“For you? I’d burn down every soul, building, and flora upon this land.”
Dead serious.
Gojo tilts his flustered features down at you and asks one simple question, “Feel like flying?”
“Flying? What- oh, fuck!”
And he could fly, if he so wished to grow his wings- but what Gojo meant right now was to pick you up. Cleanly off the broken couch, he stands tall with only a singular inhuman hand supporting your weight.
The other turning your head up to watch the twitches in your expression as gravity slides you doooown his aching cock. From the ruby-red globe of his crown to the wide circumference of his hilt, each squirm leaves his prominent veins grazing your walls sensually.
Your ass cheeks nuzzling his heavy balls, you whimper, “I-it’s in again?”
“Oh, beloved, it’s more than in…” Trailing off with a husky groan, Gojo leaves a wet, open-mouthed kiss on your lips that makes you whine. “-I don’t think m’gonna make it out of this with my life to spare.”
Oh.
Oh.
Then Gojo’s fucking you like he’s angry his thick, ravenous cock can’t delve deeper inside your pussy - just furious, slobbering strokes.
He thwacks the curve of his ballsack against the front of your cunt and then hisses when it won’t go any further. Usin’ a firm grip on your ass to get you to arch even further, “More- come on. More, little human.”
Rolling your hips back with each hit after hit to your g-spot, he’d mapped you out perfectly at this point. Shaft just so extremely long that you were feeling it in your very lungs.
“R-right there mmm–” Spittle pours from the edge of your mouth and lavishes Gojo’s deltoids, where you can only hold on for dear life. “Oh my god, Satoru-”
“You think your Lord’s lookin’ down at you right now, my angel?” Gojo has the audacity to giggle with his fanged canines - pussydrunk and gone once his hips only slam harder into yours.
His golden crucifix repeatedly thumps your chest, and you can only watch when he drags up your ringed left hand right up to his mouth. Biting. “He can’t hear you-” Hard. “So maybe you should heh- scream louder.”
Louder and louder - your pitchy whines were utter music in Gojo’s blushing ears.
By now reaching a fever point as you’re feeling the sensations in your legs go numb, head lolling stupidly-
“My, no ngh- sleeping yet, my darling.” And this position just left you so helpless, completely at Gojo’s mercy when he’s deciding to slip a free hand between your legs and pinch your perky clit. Brushing the calloused fringe of his thumb down where you were the most sensitive. “Not until I bite every inch of you.”
Oh…it just felt too good. Those slender fingers knew exactly what they were doing, targeting the most delicate spots of your nub, until you felt all raw.
You babble at the carnal itch of his fingerpads rolling across your clit. Smearing the dewy droplets of slick that just kept on seeping out of you. “B-but I’m so- ngh- can feel it again, Satoru…”
“That so?” Absolutely no mercy. Gojo’s starting up a synchronization between his pre-glazed tip banging your g-spot, and the toying of your honeyed clit. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. “And yet…”
You’re shivering as he whispers in your ear, rasping. Dark. Something that makes your heart race and your cunt pound. “I will still fuck you until you can’t walk out the hah- steps of this very church.”
Another dollop of buttery pre sprays along your cervix, another kiss of his frigid piercing glueing to your walls, and yet another twitch of your useless legs. “I will still make everyone see- make everyone know. But first…”
And you knew from that delicate dimple dotting the side of his grin that the next few words won’t bode well for you.
You knew you were done for just as soon as Gojo leans back from your haphazardly dangling body, ever-so-slightly. Eyeing down your front with his superhuman sight, he still bites down on your purity ring as he grins.
“-I wish to make a statement even the heavens shall know.”
And he can see. He knows exactly where his stirrin’ cock is heading for - right towards the bullseye of your womb. Thrashing- the only carnal sensation you register before it’s all white.
Both your bleary vision and the thick, copious clumps of cum that Gojo was filling you up with.
Both hitting your highs at once - so hard that his fangs shatter the deep purity ring on your finger. Though, never once leaving even a scar on you.
“Oh, ya really are made for me.” Gojo gasps out a sharp pant, toned hips rutting so ferally upwards at the clenching squeeze of your heated insides. And oh- saying it was good would be an understatement.
The winding lines of his veiny cock dragged out your wave of bliss until you felt like your mind was melting. Bludgeoning his Prince Albert’s against your g-spot again and again and again at the precise peaks of your high.
You almost get the feeling that he’s milking himself on your overspilling cunt, twiddling a thumb over the button of your clit just to get you to clench. “H-heh-” Gojo watches as your creamy pussy driiiips with ivory syrup. “More more take more-”
You curl your toes in euphoria, dragging him into a filthy, filthy kiss. Slurring,“M-mmm- yes. I wanna-”
“Mhmmm–?”
“Hck! wanna be yours, Toru–”
Oh.
He had such a look on his face that told you he would just kill for you. Simply say the word.
“M’already yours, beloved.” Gojo’s meaty thighs shiver after each stringy ribbon of sap being pumped into you, and he’s sliding a thumb all over the drivelling mess of your slit. Cooing as you flinch, “Oh, you’re so fuuuuck- ripe.”
Ripe? What did that even mean-
You didn’t need to utter the question, because he’s already answering it in the next sultry instant.
You watch as he lovingly gazes at your tummy bulge, now stuffed with the weighty knots of his cum. There’s an almost tender note in his voice as he speaks, “Should you so wish, this one’s gonna be a ngh- boy.”
Oh.
Ripe for the picking, like a pomegranate.
Ripe for him to fuck you till you were all round and glowing- and it’s almost the two of you are moving at the speed of light. Gojo barely even taking a split-second to transport himself to the edge of his humble priest’s bed and bully you down.
Cock still buried deeply near your womb, he flattens the weeping head of his shaft against your cervix. Taking a loooong, languid glide of his pierced mushroom tip-
“Y-you’re still- ngh-” You hiccup, feeling the parched twitch of his length - still so red n’ swollen that it ached him to not be stuffed between your glossy folds.
Sheathing himself in sluggish gyrations that stir your insides, Gojo’s tearing off the rest of his holy robes. From his cassock to his roman collar- and that twinkling golden cross ends up dropped somewhere on his dampening sheets.
“Still hard? Heh-” Gojo snickers, oh, he’s going to have fun with you for the rest of eternity. “Now, you didn’t expect a vampire to stop at only one, did you, my angel?”
Fuck.
.
.
.
And maybe it’s been hours. Maybe it’s been days.
All you’re learning is that a vampire goes for seconds, thirds, fourths- that Gojo Satoru won’t be even the slightest bit satisfied until he’s well past the sixth round.
Your tired hips slumped on top of his now, riding him dry- well, as best as you could when your entire body was utterly helpless. At his mercy, he’s got his large hands clawing on your waist, moving you in steady figure-eight grins.
Long, achingly probing his sensitive divot into your battered and bruised delicate spots. So far gone that you could feel the slimy second skin of his cum from hours prior pool inside.
Gojo slaps his hip bones up to yours and lets out what sounded like a damn broken whimper, “Yeah- yeah, if this isn’t the most heavenly thing- nghhh–”
“Oh-ohhhh my god—” You whimper, the cheeks of your ass stinging as he perks a hand underneath your thighs to slam you down. Crushing your overstimulated clit against his soaked happy trail, “The sun’s coming up, Toru.”
And sure enough, tentative yellow light was seeping between the half-shuttered blinds of Gojo’s quarters.
With it, a new day. And a new victim of the vampire to be discovered - of his.
Though, that’s the last thing on your stupidly fuzzy mind when the thickened end of his thumb is coming down to draw out a cute lil’ heart on your clit. “S’that soo–? Heh-” He gulps from his completely dry throat, looking at you through unruly white bangs. “Better make this fast then, my darling.”
You had no idea where his stamina was coming from- even for a vampire this was ridiculous, surely.
At some point he was clinging onto your hips and maneuvering you up n’ down his vein-decorated cock as if it was nothing.
Slight sparks of power flying from his half-lidded eyes every time he’s swirling and swirling his flinching cock ‘round your walls. Each semicircle of him stretching you out gets you rewarded with the slightest geyser of milky pre- damn near cumming dry.
“Oh.” Gojo’s nostrils flare, and his flushed maw hangs wide open with a sliver of spittle. Turning into a torrent of saliva once he’s hit with that familiar candied perfume of your orgasm.
Close-
Before you can even babble out the word, you’re cumming- and not just cumming, squirting. All over Gojo’s…face?
Fuck, your hands dig into the sweaty locks of his pale hair. Half-melted mind realizing that he’d transported you with his powers just as soon as you hit your high. Moving you from his jolting cock to seat all prettily on top of his face.
Right on top for him to lavish his swollen mouth with the splosh of your velvety sap. Creaming all over his handsome features, leaving his lower and upper body soaked.
“Mmm- fuck.” He slaps his dewy-wet lips down your dripping wet cunt; simply drunken, Gojo lets the ribbons of your thick slick drench his sharp jawline. Puddle after puddle of cloying liquid that sprays across his mouth. A fucking mess.
“A-men…” Cum and slick bubbling down his rosy mouth n’ fangs, he babbles. Catching sight of the bleeding orange of the sun rise, “Oh, it’s time.”
Time for him to lick up the last few tingles of your orgasm. Time for him to keep pinning you down to his face as he turns his head towards your thighs and bites.
Hard.
Puncturing.
And just as soon as the hot crimson of your blood leaks into his mouth, Gojo finds himself smiling. “May God never forgive me.”
A different kind of mark, the book had claimed. And sure enough your body flashes hot- something churning inside your blood vessels. Something that makes him tenderly flip the two of you over so that you can lay across the ruined sheets-
Only for him to take sweet, sweet advantage of the crook of your neck and bite. Once more. Then twice on the other side, just to make sure. Just because he couldn’t stop himself.
Six hundred years.
Six hundred years that he had been searching for you.
You’re wheezing out weakly, “Satoru…”
Now to finally, finally find you.
“Rest. The transformation from human to vampire is quite taxing.” Gojo hushes you, ivory lashes lowered in pure loving. He plants a kiss on the bloodied bite marks at your neck, fangs peeking out just enough to tease. “We have a long eternity together, my beloved.”
.
.
[Excerpt from ‘Scripture of Shadows’: Latest published edition, author unknown.]
‘Chapter Six: The Vampyre’s Beloved
Many are unaware of the one weakness of the vampyre: their one true love. Yes, reader, the fated mate, only poetically comparable to a ‘soulmate’, is one that can induce a different kind of bite in the blood-thirsty vampyre.
It is an unexplainable soul tie that happens merely once in eternity - one that provokes even the most blasphemous creature of the vampyre to tear down heaven and hell. One such known vampyre in search was the famed Gojo Satoru, almighty of even these shadowed beings.
But through my journeys, I have found that our despicable being has come to find his fated mate, as of late. The latest whispers within the shadowed realm speak of an atypically happy life, and an even happier bride—expectably, leaving bloodied wedding favors behind.
Some even claim an heir of the Darkness to be within reach, God have mercy.
Six hundred years of terror, and it seems that He has found even the most undeserving worthy of being loved. Being seen.
For, perhaps even the cruelest of creatures can love.
Amen.’
A/N. Omg y’all I had to get permission from like five of my Christian friends before I could post this erm- obvi disclaimer that this isn’t a true representation of Christianity!!
Synopsis. The only birthday gift your brother’s best friend wants? You. And not just for fake-dating…
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, brother’s best friend! Gojo, annoyances to lovers, fake dating, PINING, jealousy (Gojo’s side), past Sukuna x Reader, matíng presses, vírgínity loss (Gojo), oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, size kínk, cervíx kíssing, he’s such a tease, cúmplay, p talking, making him WHÍMPER, spítting, pánty-steaIing, slight chokíng, reader is Geto’s sister, matchmaking, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.1k
A/N. In honor of my hubby’s birthday!!
“Wait, who’s coming to your party?”
“It’s not just a ‘party’, it’s my surprise party-”
“Satoru, it’s not a surprise party if you’re the one organizing the surp-” You’re cutting yourself off with a heaving sigh, massaging your throbbing temples. “Anyway- continue.”
Growing up, you didn’t suffer through years of endless torment from Gojo Satoru to hope that he’d ever use logic. No, of course not.
Instead, he’s brandishing the oversized birthday banner he’d bought himself, softly smacking the top of your head. “Besides- it’s not like everyone’s going to be there. Just our group, Nanami’s troupe, some Kyoto people, I invited Yaga but he kicked me out of his office- oh- and Sukuna.”
Ah, there it was.
The one person you didn’t want to see just as much as you didn’t want to be roped into your brother’s best friend’s “surprise” party planning for his own birthday. But, alas, here you were.
And here tumbled the next few words that would likely haunt you for the rest of your life.
“I need you to date me.”
“Oh? Okay.”
“Listen I know it’s stupid and I know-” Wait…what? Cutting yourself off with a choked-up wheeze- for the first time since he’d barged into your life, Gojo had truly and absolutely stumped you. “Wait- you agreed?”
He’s shrugging one broad deltoid, tinted glasses that you’d bought for his last birthday sliding down that high nose bridge of his. And the grin you’re graced with is blinding. “Well, I knew it was about time before you fell for my charms~” Before one strong arm swings its way around your shoulders, manhandling you against the thin black t-shirt wrapped around his sculpted body. He wiggles his cloudy brows, “What was it- the hair? The eyes? The body? Y’know I’ve been hitting the gym more-”
“Gojo Satoru.” you’re gritting out through tight lips. “I need you to date me- just for one night.”
“So it was the body-” he’s gasping dramatically, beefy arms frantically wrapping around your middle. You could feel the curves of his washboard abs against your palm. Purring voice pitching up into what almost sounded like a whine, “At least take me out to dinner first–! To think that you just want me for a one night stand-”
In a split-second, your palms slap over his nonsensical mouth - hard enough that you almost spy a stinging stamp of red on his skin.
And yet, Gojo doesn’t complain. Doesn’t display anything but a brazen gleam in his gaze that practically screamed out kinky~!
“Shut- up- my brother’s in the next room.” You’re hissing, eyes flickering behind Gojo’s toned figure and towards the kitchen door for any looming sign of Geto. “I need you to date me-” Your digits tighten over his mouth as soon as you feel it moving to prattle away once more. “-just for tonight- no, not as a one night stand, put that banner down- We just need to ah- pretend?”
Damn, it sounds more of a garbage idea out loud - and you didn’t even know that was possible.
At the question in his summer blue eyes, your hopefully explanatory words spill out a mile a minute. “S-so Sukuna has been getting around since our little break-up a few months ago- if you can even call it that…”
Ah, melding into such a big group with your brother’s friends and your own in university had always meant that there would be a few bumps along the way.
From explaining to an overeager Haibara that no, you and Gojo were definitely not dating, to making sure that your brother and his best friend didn’t make Nanami suffer from an aneurysm too early in life, to perhaps the biggest of them all - your fiery, yet short-lived fling with Ryomen Sukuna.
The most dramatic bump, according to Shoko.
Sukuna wasn’t a close friend, but it’d taken work to get over the worst of the awkwardness after he’d dumped you without a moment’s notice. And you weren’t exactly dreaming up a wedding with him…sort of, but you certainly did skip out on a few invitations to hang out if you knew that he’d show his smug face.
And right now it left you ironically wishing you’d heeded Gojo’s words when he’d first warned you that Sukuna “wasn’t right for you.”
Though, you think part of it came from his own unexplainable love-hate animosity with the man.
“-but I’ve still been painfully single since the last time I saw him, and you know how he is. I can’t face him like this.” You, in particular, knew too well. “You two still have that weird rivalry thing going on, right? So help me show him up just for tonight- then later we say it fizzled out and everything goes back to normal. It’s a win-win really if- eugh!”
You snatch your hand back as far as it would go the very second you feel the sodden drag of something against your palm. Staring in horror at your clammy skin…he licked you.
And Gojo almost winces at the loss of your touch - he almost drags your hand back himself.
But oh, it was worth it just to see the way your gorgeous features get scrunched up into an even more gorgeous glare - one that said if looks could kill, then he’d already be six feet under and having his surprise party thrown on his grave already.
Truly the way to a man’s heart, he swoons internally.
“Fine.”
And when has that particular tone from Gojo ever boded well for you?
“Fine?”
You find yourself gulping at the slight bob of his smooth Adam’s apple, the flex of his back muscles when he hunches downwards to crowd your space. Mere inches away. Somehow, he seemed too close and too far away at the same time. Too intoxicating with his cold, pinewood scent.
“Fine I’ll let you- heh, use me for my body.” Tone intentionally dipping into a low, rumbling territory. Gojo’s batting his long snowy lashes in a way you’d almost deem innocent - if it wasn’t for the next few words that tumble urgently from his mouth. “-only if you give me something back. A kiss.”
You jolt, “What?”
“I’m the birthday boy, and I say-”
Cutting him off with a thoroughly practiced scoff, “Well, I have common sense. And I say I should just ask Nanami instead-”
“Is the common sense in my five-star getaway cabin with us right now?”
“Okay! You two!” Geto’s roughened hands clap down on your shoulders with a little more force than necessary. His voice is patient - used to this. “Please try not to make this a funeral before we can make it a birthday party, Satoru’s decorations are non-refundable.”
Oh, shit.
How long had he been standing there?
Judging by Geto’s slight shake of your shoulders as if scrambling the practical part of your brain back into functionality - and the way he wasn’t lecturing your ear off just yet - you guessed that the two of you had been lucky this time.
Face burning, you pray you didn’t look as guilty as you were. Swatting your older brother’s well-meaning hands away. “Speaking of, for a busybody hosting his own surprise party, I’m shocked you didn’t want any gifts.” Quirking a brow, “Is there even anything you want? Anything else?”
Gojo knew what you meant - you weren’t just talking about the party anymore.
And, well…he avoids your eyes. Yes. Yes, there is .
You.
But, woe, even the utterly shameless Gojo Satoru couldn’t possibly say that out loud - especially in front of his best friend, and your brother - so he settles on an obnoxiously dragged-out, “Awww- Trynna make my birthday special f’me, sweetheart~?”
And even that was toeing the line.
He can’t help the way his rosy lips curl smugly at the edges when you’re hissing out a heated, “S-see if I try and have a civil conversation with you ever again, Gojo.”
“Ouch!” Gojo’s clutching dramatically at his heart with a willowy faint that leaves him hanging off of Geto’s shoulders - and it wasn’t too hard to fake with the way his heart lurches uncomfortably at the sound of his last name on your pretty tongue. “Right for the jugular- is this your way of throwing the towel on our truce?”
Truce…is that what he’s calling it?
You catch your own brother - that traitor - stifling a bout of laughter behind his hand when his towering best friend seems to cower in your mere presence. Because, really, who was Gojo Satoru against you?
Sighing with that slightly infuriated pout you haven’t lost since you were a whiny, teary-eyed brat meeting him at his Digimon-themed birthday party many, many years ago.
Gojo takes the moment to truly appreciate how you’ve grown since.
He hadn’t technically invited you back then - but what else was there to do when your older brother was off making friends in kindergarten already and being invited by his “new best friend”?
You’d been pouty the entire evening at that, he remembers, and his mother had gotten a ton of photos just of your bickering duo. A year younger and just barely an inch shorter than him, but to a freshly six-year-old Gojo that made all the superiority - enough to tease you badly enough that you’d left him with a tiny, throbbing pink handprint across his cheek, and his poor heart in your palm.
“No.” Your voice rips him out of his reverie, as it always seems to do these days. “So you better k-keep up your end of the truce, too.”
With you stomping your way back to your cabin suite, Gojo finds his twinkling eyes straying right after. Hot on your heels. Unable to tear away. You really have changed since then, all grown up - as is he - and yet-
“That’s after a truce?” Geto wonders out loud for the both of you.
Well, he’s eyeing his best friend. And Gojo was nothing if not a good- well, he was good at everything, quite frankly. Everything except for when it came to you. “Suguru, we might have to plan a surprise engagement party tonight instead of a surprise birthday party.”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
Because he still feels as much the bumbling six-year-old with his first-ever crush as he was back then.
---
“Matching colors?”
You sigh, “Check.”
“Matching backstories?”
“Check.”
“Kiss me?”
“Ch- wait not yet-” you’re managing to shrill out, fingers curling even tighter around where Gojo had insisted you latch onto his bicep. And you feel him flex boastfully under his velvety button-up, “And do we really need to make some grand entrance? You literally planned the entire party.”
He’s flicking your forehead - softly, you’ve seen Gojo roughhousing with your brother before and he didn’t use even half his strength on you. “Surprise party- the birthday boy has to make a dramatic entrance with his girlfriend. How else will we make a statement?”
You’re grumbling to yourself about why you needed to make a statement at all - but you can’t argue, this was your idea after all.
And Gojo seemed well and fully intent to excel in his role…perhaps too intent.
Now, you always knew that his family was disgustingly wealthy; but Gojo practically dragged you to the nearest high-end mall this morning. Insisting on the latest twinkling bracelets and bejewelled necklaces to match his fitted shirt. Cooing that you looked “absolutely gorgeous” in every single one.
Was this official girlfriend treatment from Gojo Satoru himself? You’ve never known him to have had a long-term relationship in all the years he’s been your brother’s friend but…but it was all so much for just one night of acting.
And when you’re twirling that flowy silken fabric of your dress around your fingers, you wonder if that’s all he was thinking.
“Hey?” The rounded pads of his fingers skim over your cheeks, “Nervous?”
“A little.” you admit, trying oh-so-desperately to escape from his blazing sapphire gaze.
And Gojo crushes you close to his body, one massive palm resting firmly on your hips, hardened front pressing up against yours. Warm. Steady. Voice so close now that you could catch every slight crack towards the end, the heat of Gojo’s feverish breath - practically burning - against your ear.
You wanted to feel his hands more - everywhere.
Woah. You’re shaking your head, thankful it simply looked like you were gathering your wits. Maybe you were more tired than you thought.
“We’ll be alright. Trust me, it’ll go smoothly.” Was- was Gojo Satoru comforting you? He’s cracking a smile, like the thought just occurred to him, too. “And if it doesn’t then I can beat up that b-”
SLAM!
“Why are you taking so lo- What. The. Fuck.”
Your first instinct is to wrench away from Gojo’s hold - but unluckily for you, his first instinct is the exact opposite. And you find his firm digits tensing to dig into the plush of your hips, both of your heads snapping towards that gravelly new voice.
Catching a jaw-dropped Shoko with her half-burnt cigarette dropped to the floor, she looked nowhere near even thinking of picking it back up. You could practically see the gears curdling around in her head.
“Ah-” You’re gasping out in what you hoped was believable scandal, fingers latching around Gojo’s own cold ones. Not to remove - no, Gojo almost has a heart attack when you intertwine them with yours. “Hope we’re not too late, Sa- Toru here wanted to go shopping.”
“Wait-” Shoko runs her hands through her silky locks like she was pleading to the skies above. “Wait wait wait- wait- when did this happen no-” She’s baring you with her most aghast look, “Why did this happen?”
Gojo comes to your rescue, face falling into the crook of your neck with a grin. “Told ya she would fall for my charms eventually~”
“Yes, but I didn’t think she was that stupid-”
Yes! You have to fight to hide your smile, despite the blatant insult. One down - if you could get everyone at this party to believe in your little act, then Sukuna would have to.
“Still here–” You’re deadpanning, hoping that your friends didn’t catch the slight tremors in your voice. Damn- why did Gojo have to be so warm. “-and uh- maybe we should head inside? After it is a certain someone’s-”
“Shhh! You’ll ruin my surprise.”
It all goes according to script - well, your entrance with Gojo and his entrance into the party.
As soon as your duo steps in, the dim lights flicker on and you’re deafened with the cheery yell of surprise! Blinking your startled gaze to adjust to the blinding decorations upon decorations that Gojo himself had put up, you can’t help but let out a chuckle at the smiling faces that meet you.
Geto and Haibara holding exploded party poppers, the rest of the group from Kyoto standing around a brightly lit cake you’d baked, Nanami the one turning on the lights - the farthest away from the birthday boy. Purposefully so, you imagine.
And there - in the center of it all - Sukuna.
Arms crossed, a pink brow raised as he drinks in the sight of you - all of you.
As was the rest of the room, eyes widening in true surprise.
Gojo’s clutching the front of his shirt with almost-frightening theatrics. “You guys- You did this all for me? You’re the absolute best-”
“Eugh.”
“What did you blackmail her with?”
“Congratulations on your relationship!”
Your eyes latch onto Geto - who only takes a long look at you and cackles.
Gojo’s huffing ever-so-slightly as he gets cut off, and that’s what it takes for you to realize that you still had his fingers looped undeniably with yours. In fact, he’s tugging you even close to wrap one heavy arm over your shoulder, the very picture of sappy devotion when he nuzzles his cheek into your own. “They’re bullying me~”
He was laying it on thick.
He’d barely steered you into the living room before you catch a flash of white and two firm arms curled around your neck - away from your supposed boyfriend.
“My lovely!” Utahime cries, cocktail abandoned somewhere to wrangle you free from Gojo’s treacherous grasp. She’s cupping your face with visible concern, “Is your head okay? Did you knock it somewhere? I know a good doctor that can help with-”
“Hey! She’s my lovely-”
“I’m fine, Utahime.” You’re subtly stepping on Gojo’s toes before things can escalate any further. Eyes meeting red ones from across the room, “-I promise. We’re just ah- giving it a go. It’s very new and we didn’t want to make such a big deal out of it, honestly.”
Lies. The entire point is to make a big deal out of it.
Shoko crosses over in a flash, droopy eyes flickering between you and a sheepish Gojo. “Giving it a-” Slicing their way over to the decorative blush on his cheeks, “-go…huh.”
And as you’re surrounded by the tittering crowd, you’ve never felt more like one of those cell samples that Shoko would dissect in medical school and proudly show your reluctant self pictures of.
Ogling everything from the weight of Gojo’s hand on your shoulders to that soppy smile on his face when he smushes his cheek into yours like some overgrown cat. And you can’t help but wear a grin of your own.
Can’t help but feel relief when she cracks a wicked smile, “Fucking finally.”
Haibara gathers your hands in his own, “I-I’m so proud of you two! Nanami and I have been hoping for this for the past five years-” Flitting his strangely wet eyes to a Nanami who couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried. “-isn’t that right Nanami?”
“No it’s not.” he’s rolling his eyes, but you catch the slightest hint of a twitch at the corners of his lips. And it hits you that he’s happy for you.
Really, truly happy.
“Right right!” Haibara plows on, and you have half the mind to wonder if the obliviousness was a skill. “It’s been more like the past seven years-”
Geto slaps! his hand on Gojo’s shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “So he finally grew the balls, huh?”
“Eh? I mean-” you’re strangling out at your brother’s sudden comment. “-I mean of course. Had to practically force it out of him though, y’know?”
Shoko nods, eyes far away like she’s remembering something you can’t. “Of course, you did- pining fool.” And in the corner of your eye, you sneak a glimpse at the way Gojo’s sharp jaw clenches. Grinding ever-so-lightly as she calls out, “Well, I was almost at my wit’s end with your horrible taste in men. No offense, Sukuna, not that this one’s any better- let me know if you ever need his balls chopped off in his sleep–”
Utahime’s narrowed glare stays locked on Gojo, “Hurt her and it’ll be more than your balls.”
Sukuna, notably, says nothing.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru was a liar.
The guestlist for his birthday wasn’t simply your friends - it was damn near the entire campus by the time the cake had been cut and you’d all settled into your usual conversations.
Body after body filtering in through those towering mahogany doors of his. Invitation or not. Rapidly and steadily, it was growing into another one of Gojo’s famed parties. Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d actually bumped into Professor Yaga somewhere in there.
“Eheh- whoops.” His apologetic words hit hotly against your ear over the thumping music. Your body jostling precariously where you were sat all prettily in his lap on the overpriced living room couch. “I don’t even know half these people.”
And, yet, more than half the people seemed to know you - or, at least, your relationship with Gojo.
Sure, you were aware that your brother and his best friend were amongst some of the most popular students on campus, but this was ridiculous. You couldn’t pass two minutes without a few guests sauntering up to wish the two of you well and leaving Gojo with a “congratulations for finally growing the balls.”
“They sure know a lot about your balls, huh?” You’re raising a brow, back pressed up against the massaging ridges of his abs. And some part of you felt guilty for deceiving all of these people - they really did look curiously happy for the two of you.
Gojo’s bemoaning, “I can assure you that you are the only one allowed to talk about my b-”
“Ugh, couples.” Comes your brother’s voice to the side of you, the cushiony couch dips as he takes his seat. “Though, it is much better than having him mope around.”
“Suguru…” Gojo murmurs. Low.
“What? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your girlfriend?” Geto was such a provocateur despite that serene expression he’d constantly wear on the outside. Taking a long swig of his beer before musing, “Remember, she’s my sister, Satoru. And I think she should know about that book of pick-up lines you bought for her. And that picture in your-”
Immediately, two engulfing hands find their place on either side of your head, covering your ears so blatantly. Gojo’s strained screech is only slightly muted when he drags out, “W-we haven’t gotten to that stage yet!”
“Oh, I see I see-” And Haibara - dear, sweet Haibara - always chooses the worst times to pop up from behind the two of you. Ringing voice commanding the attention of about half of the room nearby when he’s humming, “So you two are still in the honeymoon phase, then? How romantic!”
“No.”
“Yes.”
There’s such dangerous possessiveness in Gojo’s limbs when they tangle in a mess with yours. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other gliding its lecherous pathway up and down your exposed thigh. Slowly. Savoring.
Gojo’s fingers twirl over the short hem of the dress he’d bought, lips pressed up against your throat as he mutters. “Aw, c’mon– no need to be shy, sweetheart.”
And you’re sure whatever strange little flip your heart did showed on your face - because immediately, you’re being showered with awww’s and squeals from all around you two- when did you even draw in a crowd?
“Then why dontcha give ‘er a pretty peck to prove it.”
But of course, Sukuna was in it, too.
“What?”
You try not to let your true feelings bleed into your words when you take a long look at that unchanged smirk, the way he’s tilting his tattooed neck in defiance. Shrugging up sculpted shoulders, “M’just saying. If you were my girl, I’d want to prove it to everyone here.”
Damn.
Geto nudges his best friend, and you grit your teeth - because proving it was exactly what Sukuna did when you two were dating. Often these parties found you sneaking away if he felt generous, and Sukuna’s lips hot against yours right on the dance floor if he didn’t.
All in front of a fuming Gojo.
And, hell, if he could be petty then so could you.
You’re ignoring the boiling in your veins to run a few stray fingers through Gojo’s angelic hair. Soft. It drags his steely gaze from Sukuna over to you with a gulp, “S’that okay, Toru–” Oh god, that nickname has Gojo wondering whether he’s in heaven. “-wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“Tch, are you kiddin’ me-” He recovers quickly, and you didn’t know whether the raw awe in his voice was part of the acting or simply just Gojo being himself. “-provin’ to losers than I’m yours is the best birthday gift I could get.”
The last thing you see is that tiny, curvaceous dimple at the end of Gojo’s grin before he’s smashing his lips onto yours. It’s messy. Disorganized. The very beginnings of a sodden French kiss.
Sheer teeth and lips and need as he suckles lightly on your lower lip, pearly white canines sinking in ever-so-lightly until you keen. Lost into the wolf whistles erupting from the party-goers - it seems to knock some sense into you two.
And Gojo breaks the kiss with a panting pah! sugary sweet taste of his birthday cake lingering on your tongue - over as soon as it started. “Happy birthday to me.”
“You are so corny-” you’re croaking, more so because you didn’t know what to say than anything. Because all your mind was whirling with weren’t words - it was the feeling of wanting more more more-
Shit. Your eyes widen, peering down at Gojo’s half-drunken gaze - even though you’re sure his lightweight self hasn’t had a single drink tonight. You wanted to kiss him more.
“I-I think I’m going to get a drink.” you’re mumbling out, hastily standing on two unsteady feet. Mere moments away from stepping into the kitchen - from making your escape - before long digits clasp around your wrist. With a plastered smile, you turn to Gojo, gaze flickering down between his begging eyes and that vice-like grip of his. “You need anything, babe?”
“Ah-” Gojo lets you go as if your skin scorched him - as if he didn’t even realize that he’d been holding onto you this way. “No no, nothing for me- don’t take too long, m’kay~”
Every step you take, Gojo’s watching after you like it couldn’t be fast enough.
Because after that? That kiss that had him feeling like a pathetically melty puddle of teenage hormones? Shit, he’s almost on the verge of getting out of his seat and running after you like a maiden himself-
“So…ugh- was that part of the truce?”
“Huh?”
“Was that- dammit, Satoru fuckin’ look at me- she’s not even in your line of sight!”
“Oh- what?” Gojo’s veering his eyes over to his best friend, gaze still trailing after you like a lost puppy even when he registers the other man talking to him. Your little audience had mostly dissipated by now, leaving him to act as much of a fool as his idol-like persona on campus didn’t allow.
Geto lets him stew in the strobing silence of the party music for a little longer, before heaving out a sigh that was much too worldly for a young man of twenty-something. As a younger sister, you really did give him grief - and he finds himself almost wishing he hadn’t interrogated Gojo after overhearing your strange agreement earlier today. “Man, you really are stupid, huh?”
“I know.”
“And this charade of yours is even stupider.”
“...I know.”
“And you realize that you might just be helping her back into the arms of that Sukuna all over again, right?”
“WHAT?” He’s so desperately loud that a few guests in the vicinity jump. But Gojo didn’t care - he didn’t give a shit about anything other than grasping onto Geto’s collar, shaking him stupid. “Have you lost your mind- I’m supposed to be the nonsensical one in our duo-”
“I-I’m just saying.” Geto’s putting his hands up as if a shield, “Getting an ex-boyfriend jealous using the same man he was threatened over when they were dating? Sounds like the textbook recipe for jealousy sex if you ask me.”
Oh, Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone. Brows marrying together, he only wobbles his best friend harder. “B-but no- that can’t be- they hate each other, don’t they?”
And, ah, he hated how Geto always knew what to say.
Hated how he already knew by the devilish curve of Geto’s lips that nothing that was about to fall out of it was going to do his sanity any good.
Gojo flails, “No wait-”
“Don’t you two claim you ‘hate each other’? And yet, here you are.” Geto’s patting his best friend on the back as if consoling him, shaking his head with the patience of a mother with a few problem children. “There there, you complete imbecile. Now you might want to stay here sulking with a singleton like me, or- you might want to go over there and avenge the honor of your fake relationship, because I see an ex-boyfriend coming in hot.”
“What?”
He’s jerking his head around so urgently that Gojo’s vision blacks out for a bit - and that’s exactly the excuse he’ll use for years to come when he shoots up to his full height. Snatching a glass of liquid courage from Geto-
“Satoru, that’s-”
Knocking it back within seconds before storming off to just where he could just peak your beautiful self in the kitchen being crowded by Sukuna. That adorable furrow in between your brows betraying your thoughts, lips moving furiously with a frown.
“Do you think he knows that what he drank was just water and not alcohol…” Geto tilts his now-empty cup at a lounging Nanami nearby, head bowed like he couldn’t give a single fuck if this party burned with him in it.
“No.”
“Do you think he realized the ‘jealous sex’ was a bluff?”
“No.”
Geto lets out a slight huff of laughter, “And do you think he realizes that more than one person in our group knows it’s pretend?”
“No.” Nanami didn’t care if he risked sounding like a broken recorder, after spending almost a decade with you two dancing around each other, he thinks he’s owed that privilege at the very least. “I don’t think he realizes that had your sister so much as looked his way, let alone date his sorry self, then the entire campus would have been hearing about it for the past month.” For the first time since he’d found himself accidentally dragged into Geto’s conversation with him, Nanami raises his head to catch the tail end of Gojo’s lanky legs disappearing into the kitchen. “After all, Sukuna did break up with her because they were in love with each other. Just too stupid to see.”
Now, you might not exactly be his yet like he’s wished on every single birthday candle since he was six - but Gojo Satoru was to be damned if was going to let any other bastard steal his fake girlfriend.
“Sukuna-”
“Awww…what happened to ‘Kuna’, baby?”
You snort, arms crossing over each other while you fixate your glare on Sukuna’s leering form. God, the kitchen just seemed too small for the two of you. “I think you lost that privilege when you dumped me.” Attempting- failing - to sidestep, “Now if you’d excuse me, my boyfriend is-”
Scoffing, “Girl- what boyfriend?”
Sukuna looked to be on the very verge of laughter, and you were on the verge of breaking into a nervous sweat. He’s rasping out a rumbling snicker at that look on your pretty face, “Oh come on, now- you can’t really expect me to believe that sorry excuse of a kiss came from the same man that’s been wantin’ you for years, right?”
Shit.
Wait…years?
Your fingers curl tighter around the beer bottle, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
And you watch as Sukuna’s mouth drops - now fully laughing in your face. “Damn- not even a hint? You really did downgrade after me, ma. At least I was honest.”
“Honestly an asshole, that’s for sure.”
But the rest of your fire swims down the drain as he inches closer. And closer. Heat radiating off the rippling muscles of his body when a big, beefy arm of his cages you against the polished marble counter. Head inclining slightly towards the door, “Well- why don’t you and I-”
“Take your fuckin’ hands off my girlfriend.”
“Satoru?”
But the sight you’re met with seems anything but - gone is that softly teasing demeanor, vanquished is Gojo’s easy smile. His pretty features are twisted into such a feral snarl; and where his tone was ice-cool, his eyes were blazing with raw fury.
Gojo looked like he didn’t even hear you as he echoes, “I won’t say it again.”
“Well alright then, Mr. Boyfriend.” Sukuna lets go of the cool counter surface with a knowing chuckle, walking horrifically towards a seething Gojo himself. The two stand eye-to-eye, glare-to-glare. “Are ya sure you and your third-rate acting wasn’t interrupting anything between myself and my girlfriend?”
“Satoru, ignore him–” You’re pleading, trembly voice jolting Gojo out of his hypnotized stupor, and making him drag his heavy legs around to you. Fuck, that was close. You didn’t know what-
“That’s right. Comfort your friend the only way you know how- s’not like you can do anything other than pine for decades until the next one comes around to steal her away, anyway.”
CRASH!
In a split-second, Gojo has Sukuna pinned against the wooden cabinets by his cotton shirt. Ego and desperation wafting from the two men as his feet dangle a few centimeters off the floor. Gojo had his teeth bared - eyes wild, looking like he was seconds from foaming at the very mouth. And Sukuna’s own lips quirked upwards into a grin.
“You better watch your fucking mouth.” Gojo hisses.
“You wanna tell her or should I-”
“What is happening here-” Shoko’s sharp voice snaps the three of you from your little bubble of violence, and it’s like all of a sudden the music and the party comes pouring back into the kitchen. Strangers and friends alike hot on your heels to watch the drama unfold, being pushed back by a frantic Haibara. “You’re acting like children.”
Sukuna shoves the other man off of him, and makes his way out. “Well, I know one of us hasn’t grown up.”
And Gojo is just about to stride forwards- until you catch him with a hand hooked around his elbow. Feeling the washing sense of deja vu from not too long ago. Hastily spitting out, “N-now- oh! Look at that, let me get that bruise cleaned up-” There was no bruise, and there was no reason for you to drag Gojo from the kitchen as fast as you did. Yet, you did anyway. “We’ll be upstairs–”
“Man…Sukuna.” Geto whistles lowly, watching you lug his 6’3 mess of a clingy best friend up the stairs and into what he assumes to be Gojo’s bedroom. “I know you wanted to set them up together badly but wasn’t that a little much?”
“Oh shut up- I don’t give a shit if they get together or- or if she’s happy or not.” he gruffs, stalking off.
Yet, Geto guffaws at the angry rouge that colored the very tips of his ears, and the slight wobble in Sukuna’s lower lip when he stops to watch you two make your escape.
Yeah. “Didn’t give a shit” his ass.
“Ugh.” Utahime rolls her eyes, signalling at the DJ to raise the volume on the music just a tad louder. She had a dreading feeling they’d strangely need it. “Men.”
.
.
.
Ugh, men.
You roll your eyes, the soft pads of your fingers tracing over where Gojo’s knuckles were slightly reddening after knocking against the cabinets. You were only glad that it didn’t escalate into something even worse - damn this stupid idea.
“I’m sorry.”
Gojo breaks the thickened silence between you two, his sullen voice echoing across all four wide corners of the master bedroom. But all you can hear is the thundering of your own pulse when he blinks his eyes up at you, “I didn’t…didn’t think it would go this far.”
The two of you are sitting on the edge of his king-sized bed, practically sinking into the plush mattress. And you can’t help but notice how much the room smells like him.
“Ah, well- y’know…” you’re trailing off, and the way you look at him - so soft and raw will forever be etched into his honeyed mind. You were comforting him…what a night. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. B-beside- it’s over now, isn’t it?”
He can only nod.
And you feel your fingers twitch where they were cradled in his much larger ones. Fuck. Here goes nothing…
“So that means I have to hold up my end of the bargain now, doesn’t it?”
Oh.
Gojo blinks.
Oh.
“Wait- so was it the body or the char-”
“Unless you finish that sentence right now. In that case I’m never speaking to you again.”
And shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut Gojo Satoru up then you’d have been wielding this power much, much sooner. Breath hitching when his plump, pinkish lips instantly zip shut, and he’s scrambling off the bed to kneel in front of you.
Kneel.
Gojo was kneeling in front of you, knees clacking to the floor so hard that you think it must hurt. But all that he wears on his expectant face is the rosiest of blushes, and the slight pucker of his lips when he leans in. “I-I’ll shut up- but can I have my kiss now?”
You couldn’t gift an answer even if your dizzy mind could somehow conjure up one.
Because with the slightest nod of your head - barely motioning even a few millimeters - Gojo’s crashing his lips onto yours like he was starved.
Like he didn’t want to breathe - didn’t need to - when his mouth was meshing against yours. Addicted from that faux kiss downstairs. Keening out a low whine at the very back of his throat, he’s gulping in steady heavals of your essence. Greedy hands circling your body-
“O-oh shit.” he kisses, mouth parting from yours ever-so-slightly because fuck, he had to breathe. But he’s completely and utterly sure that he could die happy right here and right now, lips firmly pressed against yours.
You’re half-heartedly sputtering, “We should– the party–”
“D-don’t talk to me about a fuckin’ party, pretty.” His teeth pull lewdly on your lower lip, “One more- that was a practice run. O-one m-”
This time, it’s you cutting him off.
Swallowing up the rest of Gojo’s sentence and forcing his body to wreck with a sudden bolting of lightning. And Gojo swears he tastes heaven on your lips, thumbing open your jaw further to pry out your lolling tongue and suck.
You moan out what sounds like a slurring string of his name over and over - praying that these walls were as soundproofed as they looked.
Fingers nimbling their way over to the first few open buttons of his shirt - the very graze of your skin down his burning one sends shots of electricity down Gojo’s body. It makes him jolt. It makes him drag in a heaving lungful. It makes his heavy palm drop its way to the curve of your ass and squeeze.
“Wait-” he’s drunken. Seething. Silvery strings of rope snapping in the heady lack of space between you two when Gojo pulls away. “-what’s it that they say- one more for luck?”
One more. And another. Another. Another and another and it’s still not enough even when Gojo’s mouth was throbbingly red and raw from crashing against yours, whimpering at the slightest wet glide of your candied lips across his.
Meshing in a sodden pucker he’s trailing his plumpened lips down the splatters of dribble that’d made its way down the corner of your mouth.
As lazy as his hands were, long digits drawing circular massages up, up, up your thigh. You’re gasping when the fat curve of his thumb nudges in through your drenched panties, drawing a sopping wet line down your teary slit.
“I think…” Cutting himself off to let his tongue slide out and lick a languid stripe down your drivel. “...think I needa hah- kiss those other lips of yours for good measure, sweetheart.”
Oh.
Fuck.
He looked like he was seconds from drooling at the very thought. Nervous energy bleeding into his words, making them sound almost like a whimper. Gojo Satoru wasn’t asking - he was begging on his knees right before you to eat out your pretty cunt.
Sharp inhales being sucked through his drunkenly parted lips when you slide your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and pull. “Th-then you better make it worth all the trouble, Toru.”
Oh, his head tumbles backwards at the sound of that nickname on your lips once more.
Chuckling - chuckling - all humorless and crazed. Bleary eyes locked on you and only you, he doesn’t move them a singular inch once all the while dipping his fingerpads into the hem of your panties and pulling. Dragging out the drenched excuse of your panties, they’re splotching a glistening coating of your sweet, sweet juices down your thighs.
And Gojo only turns to look once he brings them eye-level - up to his face and-
“Toru, you’re so nasty–”
“Ya think?” Gojo huffs out through the slicked-up fabric of your underwear, breathing in your essence like it was his favorite scent. And you swear you catch him sneaking in a few droplets of your syrupy juices that splatter onto his mouth. Groaning, “Oh, sweetheart- m’gonna make you realize just how nasty I really am.”
Without any apologies, without any warning, your thoroughly hypnotized self is being shoved down roughly onto the mattress. You bounce a few times against the navy sheets, legs hiking up on autopilot - exactly the way that Gojo wanted them.
You really were made for him.
Mewling, “Wh-what-”
“Shhh sh sh-” he’s whispering out in ragged rasps, still pressing a few pretty pecks against the mound of your translucently glossed panties. It was taking everything in him to part- to set them down…Well, perhaps not that far. Gojo stuffs your panties mindlessly into the back pocket of his pants, tongue swiping a moisturized coating over his lips when he takes back in the sight of you. “M’talking to her.”
All splayed out on the bed for him - it was like all his dreams materialized into real life.
Literally.
“Oh, look how wet she is–” His creamy fingertips push up your dress to make such a slurring mess all over your pursed lips. On purpose. Swirling the edge of his manicured thumb over and over in the tiniest of circles over your pulsing clit. And Gojo snickers at how greedy she was for his attention…how cute. “-whaddaya think she’s ngh- tellin’ me, pretty?”
Rubbing your fists over your eyes, you’re seeing stars when Gojo’s rude digits give your clit a sudden pinch. “I-I don’t know–”
“Awww- are you sure?” You’re being showcased the most innocent pout you’ve seen him plaster on his entire life, lower lip jutting out and looming so dangerously close to kiss the drizzling trail at your puffy folds. “Because she’s so talkative to me- might jus’ be nicer than you.”
You wish you could snap back as you usually would - oh, how you wish.
But you’re sure that any and every noise that showers out from your dazed mouth wouldn’t even be heard. Because for one infuriating time in your life, Gojo was right.
Those sugar-coated squelches from your dripping cunt replayed in your ears over and over. Every teasing pattern of Gojo’s fingertips has you rambling in a saturated song that sticks to your ears like cotton. And Gojo couldn’t get enough.
He couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t falter no matter how much he wanted to keep up this ever-cracking facade of being suave. Heeding to practically every word from your pretty pussy when his heated mouth gruffs closer and kisses you.
Slow. Filthy.
“T-Toru–” you’re whining, your fingers entangling with his snowy locks. And no matter how hard you tug, Gojo doesn’t move even an inch. “-make sure you ngh- b-breathe- fuck-”
“Don’t need to..don’t- don’t need it…” Gojo’s slurring out into your saccharine pussy lips, intentionally dragging out his words so that they vibrate all down your spine.
Button nose massaging against your ample clit, the decadent room rings! with a sultry squelch. And you’re peeking down at that sinful sight of Gojo’s tongue smearing your puffed-up pussy lips agape. Swiping around and around the circular hole of your entrance before plunging in-
Oh.
Gojo looked like he was so in bliss.
Eyes sliding all the way to the back of his head with one taste of your bawling cunt on his tongue- shit. Shit.
Shit shit shit. He’s out of control when he gasps, two hands curling under and around your thighs to haul you down the bed. Maw hanging ferally open when he’s gashing your poor pussy with the most sodden French kisses - Gojo’s never kissed a person like this before. And he doesn’t think he ever will - other than you.
Doesn’t think he’ll ever feel as feverish as he does right now when he’s craning his deft fingers into his mouth. Sucking. Tasting. Each and every one with a messy pop! pop! pop!
He really was nasty.
You gape at the way your slick hangs all down his lips and coats a sparkling glaze that drips down his chin and forms a little pool at his neck. His collarbones. Trickling down with pearly beads of sweat that sift between his perky pecs so mouthwateringly.
“F-fuuuuck-” Gojo’s hissing, brows scrunching together like he couldn’t even believe what he was seeing. “You jus’ got ngh- wetter. S-so much wetter…”
It’s said like a prayer.
Like a plea because your cunt was driving Gojo crazy.
“It’s all because of ah- you–” You squirm at the way that these were the words tumbling from your mouth. And you already know that Gojo was about to tease you for this for the next few years - if he even remembered, that is.
Because just about the only thing that he can do right now is twirl the edges of his fingers over your winking hole. Once. Twice. Before feeding you inch by long inch of his middle finger - in your lusty haze you think you manage to count about six inches from his staggering size.
And it only had you imagining his size down below.
“Don’t squeeze around m-me- fuck who am I kidding-” Gojo’s sleazy pumps of his hand has your cunt slobbering all down to his working wrist. Adding in one more, two. “-drool all over me- make a mess- hah- fuckin’ ruin me.” Mouth bumbling a mile a minute when his drives build up sloppily, swiveling around your gummy walls to nudge over all your tenderized sweet spots. “Yeah- heh- yeah suck me up like that. S-such a slutty girl, aren’t ya?”
“S-stop being so-”
So what?
Talkative with your cunt? So greedy when he shovels his face back in between your tottering thighs? So heated when he utters. Like a death sentence. All that he could. “I-I can’t stop- do you know how long I’ve ah- imagined this? Dreamt of this?”
Your palm constrict on his silky strands and Gojo’s so pliant when he lets himself be rummaged even deeper against your pussy. So ready to be used. “Th-think I like you better when you ngh- shut up–”
And even through it all, Gojo finds it in himself to roll his eyes - though, you think it’s a way to disguise the way he’s agonizingly swimming in euphoria more than anything. Chuckling out wetly, “Th-think I like it better when you’re ah- actually on m’tongue and n-not jus’ in my fuck- dreams when I have my cock in hand.”
Shit.
He’s so shameless.
Fingers jackhammering in and out in and out in and out-
“Where is it-” he’s spitting out into your squirming pussy, the lower half of your body being pinned to the mattress with one of his strong arms. You’re feeling the way his biceps bulge against your skin. Getting faster. Faster. “-where is it where is it where-”
“What are you even ngh- looking for, Toru?” you’re crying out - it was all so much now. So close.
But the only answer you get are your ankles being tugged to wrap around Gojo’s fervent head, pinned with one hand behind his back. “Lock it.” Keeping you held there until the ends of your feet knot as vice-like as possible to mash his face into your drooling cunt.
Gojo wraps his rose pink lips around your weepy clit and sucks through furrowed brows when his thorough digits surge upwards at a bruising pace into a bulbous magical spot. That spot.
“Found it.”
And you find yourself cumming with such a loud yelp of Gojo’s name - throat rubbing sore with every peak of your high. Your orgasm crashes into you over and over as he laps up every bead, every splatter, every drop that you’re giving.
And he’s still parched.
Spitting out a wet slew of saliva into your quavering hole, Gojo’s making such a mess of you. Absolutely ruined when he sucks up every wet smear that waterfalls from your cute cunt - so thirsty.
It’s only when your high has died down to a few tingles, when your limbs twitch with overstimulation, that Gojo finds himself pulling away. His lips stinging rawly, nose slicked and dripping with your sweet, sweet juices - you’re hearing the most pained grunt from between your legs as he pulls away.
It hurt him to.
“Oh, w-would ya look at that—”
You weren’t sure if you trusted him enough to look - already knowing that whatever it was would have your mind reeling.
But how could you not when Gojo’s fat fingertips squeeze your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, opening your glazed mouth just wide enough for him to salivate. A thick wad of spit hitting your lolling tastebuds, his thumb swipes over the stray slops that’d made their home on the corner of your slack jaw.
He grins, “I said look, sweetheart…”
Groaning, your eyes blink downwards - and you weren’t even sure what you were witnessing at first. Not even sure if you were daydreaming - because Gojo had his black dress pants unbuttoned. Shoved down until his thick, milky thighs just enough for you to witness his massive length.
Yeah, his fingers were definitely an indicator of something.
Because Gojo was so big that you felt nervous. His length swollen and thickened to an incredible girth. All pretty with a red, rotund ruby tip that blushes a cute strawberry pink all the way down, down, down until neatly trimmed tufts of white at his base. Saddling his tight, hefty balls that looked much too heavy.
He made your mouth water.
But that wasn’t all - no, what really catches your eye and snaps you from your orgasmic haze and into a half-lucid state were the creamy rings upon rings that laminated his shaft. Frosting-like dredges of cum sliding lazily down his angry cock, spurting out a few more from his weepy divot at the very end at your unwavering attention. Did he-
“Yes.” Gojo gasps out in a condensed puff, his voice sugary and embarrassed. Shit, did you just say that out loud? “I-I came just from…you’re just so-”
Damn, he curses his stupidly babbling mouth. So drunk on you that he can’t voice all the sinful thoughts sprinting through his melty head right now - all the thoughts that have been already for years now.
It was impossible - even for his big fat mouth.
So without another word, Gojo tuts as he’s rolling his shoulders as if on instinct to pop a few joints; in one, fluid motion your body is being sidled into such an easy princess carry.
Patting you down right into the cushiony middle of the bed, he looms over you - stalks over to you. And you can’t deny that the absolutely feral smile twisting his features makes your cunt twitch.
“Too many clothes.” Gojo tugs on your dress - that darkened glint in his eyes not boding well for you or-
RIP!
-for this dress.
At the sight of your jaw dropping in adorable surprise, he chuckles out a rough, “Don’t worry- I’ll buy ya that again. I’ll buy ya the ngh- whole fuckin’ store jus–” And oh with a few masterful flicks of his fingers on your bra, you’re left in nothing underneath him. Nothing to hide your perfect body away from the way he was fucking you with his half-lidded eyes. “-just let me f-fuck this cute cunt, please?”
It takes you a few sloppy seconds of Gojo nibbling down your neck for you to realize that he’s waiting for you. For anything.
Huffing, your shaky fingers clench around the glaringly open lapels of his button-up. “S’unfair th-that you’re the only one in clothes-”
And, well, who was Gojo Satoru against you?
You’re demandingly helping him shrug off that branded shirt, buttons hitting the ground, his pants hitting the floor-
“Whoops.” Gojo grins sheepishly when his pants and those tight boxers collapse onto the floor in a tatter of fabric and your panties. “Jus’ consider it a uh- birthday gift, pretty–”
No longer having his flaps of fabric to reel him in by, your fingernails dig neat little patterns of crescents on his heated skin as you drag him down to you. Heady breaths mingling with one another, “You said no gifts, remember? If you ngh- really want those panties- y-you’re gonna hafta earn it, Toru.”
And earn it he will.
Because as soon as the bulging spherical shape of his fat head swipes a sopping kiss down your pussy lips, you feel yourself already moan. He was so hot.
Already so pussydrunken when he says, “Hope ya don’t mind–” Teeth sinking into your tender earlobe, “-this is my first time.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
You barely even have the mindpower to register those words before you’re being split apart - gasping at the almost-unnatural feeling of being so thoroughly full. Of having our steamingly hot insides being fucked open with just the simple tip of Gojo’s staggering cock.
“C’mon- c’mon–” He’s lunging up in slow, mindless gyrations trying to force his thick length inside. Powerful arms keeping your wrangling legs spanned wide open for him, they barely even let you budge. Biting down on his lip in frustration, “F-fit inside- shit, your pussy’s so tight, sweetheart– s’it too big for you?”
Stubbornly, “No-”
And Gojo only has to glissade the curves of his palm down to that inflationary nudge of where he was drilling into your cunt. “No?”
“...no.”
Pressing down. Hard. “No?”
“Fuck- yes- you’re just too big-” And you meant it as a complaint - you really did. But those words only have every ounce of blood remaining in Gojo’s shivering body galloping down to his gluttonous cock. Pushing at the seams to make him expand even fatter, bigger- “Why are you getting bigger?”
Shit, you really needed to watch that mouth of yours.
Because it has Gojo’s hulking body falling onto two elbows on either side of your head, like a heavenly cage you didn’t ever want to get out of.
Sweat-simmered forehead bumping into yours, you feel his large fingers interlace dangerously on top of your head. “You need to-” He’s crashing his lips against yours in such a filthy open-mouthed kiss. “-s-stop talkin’ outta ya ngh- pussy. Leave that to her.”
Her.
And you’re so utterly distracted by all his little ministrations that you didn’t even realize the way he was snugly fitting himself into your cunt.
The stretch is impeccable when it hits you like a train at full speed, feeling the tiny nooks and crannies of your magical spots being brushed up against the thrumming upright curve of Gojo’s cock. He’s leaving no millimeter of your elastic walls unturned, unstretched. Untainted.
Gushing out a sweltering hot wave of buttery pre that sloshes all the way against your womb. “Oh- oh what the fuck-” Gojo hisses, chest heaving. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered if he was in pain. “-what the fuck- th-this is what you feel like?”
Right - shit. In all the chaos, you’d forgotten those words he’d confessed just earlier - Gojo Satoru was a virgin. Because of course, he was. Don’t make him laugh, who else would he have ever wanted to see him like this other than you?
A virgin that was currently pacing his slender hips back and forth to instrument the most syrupy squelches from the very gooey bottom of your cunt. His drooling mouth spreading wider and wider with every sultry half-thrust.
You mewl, “H-how does it feel, Satoru?”
“I-I feels so- so–” But the words are failing him - the words are escaping him with every gummy squeeze of your walls like you wanted to swallow down more and more of his solid inches. And hand on your hips swirls your hips around ever-so-slightly to feel his sobbing tip paint tiny circles of gluey precum inside you. Gojo snaps his eyes open - wild. “-is it even l-legal to have ya cunt feel this good, sweetheart? This- oh! Heavenly?”
And he was sounding genuinely concerned. Genuinely worried for his sanity once Gojo manages to feed your needy cunt all of his length.
Now in.
Fully.
And it feels too good - too blissful to have almost every single prayer in his life finally answered that Gojo can’t help but scrunch his eyes shut and cum.
Loudly. Pathetically.
One hand dancing downwards to give your plump clit a punishing little squeeze as if it was your fault. The other curling around your throat to have you meshing your mouth with his panting one, you can feel it in the vibrations how his voice cracks at the very same second your gooey cunt is filled with such copious dumps of his seed.
There’s so much.
As if he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life, every splatter of stifling hot cum managing to paint the bullseye of your g-spot in pure white. Ounces of his seed creaming around his hefty base, it smears and slide around your thighs as Gojo continues to fuck you into the mattress. Pound after pound that make him see overstimulated stars.
And it makes Gojo giggle - giggle - head lolling deliriously into the crook of your neck, now covered in a slather of his drool. Every slow ram into your splurging cunt has him grunting out the tiniest ah! ah! ah!
“Shit- fuckin’ embarrassing-” You hear him groan into your neck, licking a languid column from his tongue before biting. Hard. Hard enough that you’re wondering whether he’d draw blood, “Can ya believe- s-saved my virginity for the ngh- girl of my dreams n’ m’cumming already~?”
He leaves a few final pecks against your lips, “Th-this pussy’s got me too haaaah- addicted, pretty–” As he’s moving to part sloppy ways, you’re gasping at the splatter! of something warm. Wet. And only then do you register the literal tears crinkling at his eyes from overstimulation. Crying.
“A-are you okay– Satoru?” You’re whining, limp fingers skimming away the strands of white that cling to his prespired forehead.
“No.” Comes the answer, comes the heaving gasp when Gojo’s fatigued limbs force themselves through his trembling muscles to heave back upright. “One m-more. That was a practice run.” Throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, you feel his flexing deltoids underneath you when Gojo brings one ankle up to his mouth and kisses. Muttering - more to himself than anything. “B-but m’gonna make y’feel good- oh- fuck- m’gonna make you t-take this big cock.”
His words have you just as stupidly fucked as his fat shaft does.
Those lightning bolts of his veins thump down the upperside of your goopy channel, massaging your sweet spots over and over and-
“Th-think it was here-” Gojo’s palms feel everywhere and anywhere down your tummy for the vicious back and forth of him inside you. To feel that bulging opening, the way your snug channel clenches every time his bouncy tip recoils back from your cervix. Wanting more more more- “-or w-was it- here.”
“Fuck!” The entire expanse of your spine arches off of those thoroughly and filthily dampened sheets now, meshing up sluttily into Gojo’s body until his prespiry-glossed abs cushion your front, plush pecs so comfortably collapsing on top of you. “There- there there hngh- more-”
“More-” Gojo chuckles, hitting that precious spot over and over. His chubby head mashes in slurping soppy collisions until he was out of breath. Dizzy. “More she says- Greedy girl, wh-when you have me already ngh- dripping out of you. Shit- squeezin’ me so. Oh-”
And his vigorous fingers scoop up such lecherous volumes of his own milky cum, toying with the gushing waves of white your poor pussy leaks with every pound.
He’s bullying them between your lips - cerulean eyes dilating, mouth sagging unsealed when you eagerly suck on his digits. Tasting his candied self, tasting you. Somehow managing to muffle out, “M-m’not greedy.”
Gojo can only grin, “S-say that to me when this oh- cunt of yours isn’t sucking the fuckin’ soul outta me.”
And Gojo would love to tease you more for this - to mouth away for hours on end into your ear about how drenched you were getting and muse out loud whether you’d dreamt of this just as much as he has, too.
But instead, he’s pecking a flurry of lovely kisses all down your face. Gasping into your lips, “M-move that pretty hand f’me-” So rudely swatting those fingers of yours that’d snuck their way down to toy with your neglected clit, Gojo’s taking over himself to rub steady, methodical circles. Thumb peeking pressure on the hood of your clit just the way he’d read online. “-I’ve always w-wanted to ah- do this. To fuck you raw. T-to ruin you and ngh- fill you up-” As his words spill, so do a few ropey wads of pre. More. Frequent. “-a-and eat you out all over again. See how you taste like mine…”
“Y-you’re gonna-” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. “Again?”
“Of course, sweetheart- why? Scared I- oh.”
That’s when he does it - the mistake of peering his barely-open eyes down.
His weightily smacking balls that smooch against your ass with each thrust clench oh-so-painfully at the vision of your puffed-up pussy lips gaping around him. Drooling. Swallowing. Accommodating his ruthless cock for all you can, practically broken in half and still yearning for more.
Shit, the sight’s so hypnotic that Gojo doesn’t even realize when he’s letting his thoroughly overwhelmed body lock into yours like a puzzle piece. So hefty and sculpted.
His abs practically melting into your body, and his sloppy hips pistoning into you even deeper. Harsher. Every raring grind of Gojo’s lengthy shaft probes into your g-spot so hard. Like he wanted to leave widely battered bruises of his circumference on your sweetened spots, your cervix, anywhere and everywhere he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop.
Doesn’t even know the very word right about now in this filthy, filthy mating press. “C’mon- c’mon one more for ah- luck?” Whimpering, “My sweetheart, I-I’m gonna-”
Gojo sees white when he cums once more this night - and you do, too.
You’re not sure if it’s because of the violent streaks of electricity that run down your entire body, or because of the treacly spurts of cum that overspill from your poor cunt. But fuck- did it feel so good.
Your entire body tingles all the way down from your toes up to your bleary head - and the entire room feels like it’s fucking spinning at this point.
Black tinging your vision with ever overfilling thwack! of Gojo’s tight, cum-filled balls as they empty out, out, out into your depths. It’s coating your insides like a sticky second skin, leaving stringy drizzles of seed seeping from between your slit. Adding to the ever-growing puddle before.
You’re feeling it swashing around you with every drivel of his hips. Overstuffing your elastic walls until you felt like they were about to burst.
And all you can do is simply grapple your nails into the bulging muscles on Gojo’s back, whimpering out a broken, “T-Toru–”
“M’here I-I’m here–” Yet his voice sounds airy, hitching like he was on cloud nine. A beefy arm wraps around your body and manhandles you close to him like some sort of ragdoll, “M’here- shit-” His lips graze against yours in what you assume must be a kiss, too oversensitive to even perk his head up and peck you senseless like you knew he wanted to. “Never lettin’ ya go- haaah- never- ah-”
Whatever promises Gojo always imagined whispering into your ear can be said and done later.
Right now, the only thing he can streamline his body into doing for him is to search blindly for his discarded pants by the side of the bed. Searching for that bulge in the back pocket- no, not the panties he’d swiped right in front of you - instead, he’s feeling for the shape of his wallet.
Pulling your tired body back into his, Gojo’s carding it lazily open to show you that.
Exactly what they were talking about.
Splayed out proudly in the front and center of his wallet was a picture of the two of you. Years and years ago exactly on this date, the aged photograph showed a smiling Gojo Satoru in front of a candlelit birthday cake, tiny cheeks all pinkened. A small, surly you standing by his side - eyeing his Digimon hat more than you were eyeing the camera.
But that didn’t matter, because Gojo wasn’t looking at the camera, either.
He was looking at you - exactly the way he was right now.
Glowy eyes half-lidded, a mysterious little smile playing on his lips. Gojo nuzzles his face against yours and breathes out a tiny, “I…I might have loved you ever since then, y’know that?”
You’re gasping, eyes shining with…something. And Gojo’s heart stutters as he wants to find out. Wringing your hands to wrap around his broad chest, you’re coiling your legs together until you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts.
Whispering three lovely words into his ear - and three more into the honeyed air.
“Happy birthday, Satoru.”
---
Gojo’s one wish was to wake up next to you - like this. Under soft blankets, with your sleepy breath puffing softly into his collarbone, your body tucked safely into his.
And he never wants to let go - could never even dream of anything that could ruin this precious moment-
“Mind explaining who ordered wedding decor last night on MY account?”
Ah, that would do it.
Bleary blue eyes wrench open, taking Gojo every shred of will in his body to not jolt at the unwelcome greeting of Shoko peering down at him…while he was all wrapped up with his best friend’s sister in a bedroom that could almost be mistaken for a crime scene.
Would it really be too late of a birthday wish to hope that she hadn’t noticed your tattered clothes on the floor, the ruined state of the sheets, and the way that the bedframe sagged suspiciously on one side?
Gulping, he’s pressing your body even tighter into his, careful not to let you stir - well, at least it couldn’t get worse than this-
Footsteps.
Close.
And an unmistakable few voices - and laughter. “Is that my sist- SATORU, YOU BASTARD-”
“Eugh.”
“WHAT did you blackmail her with?”
“Woahhh- congratulations on your relationship!”
A/N. Lowkey has the spirit of a crackfic, I fear. This was SAUR fun.
synopsis ▸ the "friendly competition" you incited at your new year's party only left you in shambles and jiung and intak's rivalry more strained than ever. what made you think another one would fix things this time?
δ — nsfw (mdni 18+), threeway, f/m/m, m/m (yaoi!!), oral (both rec), threeway kiss, unprotected sex, sub!intak, switch!jiung, dom!reader, rough handling, rough sex, power dynamics, multiple orgasms, creampie, tandem blowjob (?? idk what else to call it but you’ll see), face fucking, facial, general filthy shit (very)
ᯓ an — a sequel six months later... this is me being a sick pervert who wants jitak to get it down and let me watch. and yes that scene is inspired by challengers
MASTERLIST // PART 1 (can be read as standalone but it's good for context)
“You know, I thought fucking me would get you guys to finally stop arguing.”
Jiung and Intak, sitting at your sides and across from each other at your small breakfast table, freeze in the middle of their petulant glaring and angry chopstick pointing.
It hasn’t even been an hour since they stepped into your apartment—you’d invited them to smooth things over since that night only seemed to unravel the tension into something messier.
The peace had lasted all of ten minutes before the subtle bickering started up again. And now, here you are, in the middle of yet another battle you were unwittingly drafted into.
They turn to you, their endless ire towards the other slipping away to shock, one flustered and one appalled.
“I didn’t even get to fuck you,” Intak huffs, dropping his chopsticks with a clatter into his bowl. His round eyes sharpen and snap back to Jiung. “He practically hogged you the whole damn time.”
Jiung’s hand tenses around his chopsticks before he neatly places them down. “You’re just bitter that you lost,” he responds coolly, though the tic in his jaw as he returns Intak’s glare is anything but.
You sigh to yourself as, like clockwork, they spur on. You were foolish to think you could ease things over with a peaceful dinner and drinks, but the further they get into their bottle of soju, the further they seem to settle in their pettiness.
“Guys,” you warn.
“I won, fair and square,” Jiung states, completely ignoring you.
Intak sputters, hands flying wildly as he attempts to defend himself. “You cheated! What happened—that was—you weren’t supposed to—“
“Nothing happened,” Jiung cuts in, his demeanour of calm a fickle thing in the face of being reminded of the… unforeseen events of that night.
Jiung refuses to acknowledge what happened between them. He chooses to live in complete denial. You, however…
Flashes come back to you—of an angry kiss, pushing hands, low grunts. None of anything that had any involvement from you.
Your thighs clamp together as a sharp sting of arousal shoots through you at the reminder. The amount of times you’ve had to physically restrain yourself from touching yourself to that memory is a number you’re not willing to admit.
But now, with them in front of you looking as frustrated and flushed as that night, you can’t help that your body reacts to it.
If only they would stop fucking fighting.
“Guys,” you repeat, louder but all the same ignored.
Intak has a sly grin on his lips now, one that can only mean trouble. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.”
You could be wrong, but Intak seems to be in the same boat as you. Unless it’s just another one of his tactics—to hold it over Jiung’s head that he might have actually been into what had happened.
“I just had to do what I had to do,” Jiung snaps, unable to hide the red that starts climbing up his neck to settle at the tips of his ears. “That’s it.”
Intak just preens, feeding off of Jiung’s fluster. “Is that it, hyung? Hm?” The wider his smirk grows, the sharper Jiung’s glare turns and the redder his cheeks go. “I felt you, you know. I could tell how close you were—“
“Intak,” Jiung cuts in, low and warning.
But in pure Intak fashion, he barrels through. “You don’t want to admit it.” He crosses his arms on the table, his smirk going lazy as his eyes crawl down the slopes of Jiung’s pretty face and rest on his lips.
Suddenly, you’re not in the room anymore. You might as well be a fly on the wall, just watching the scene unfold right in front of you.
“But I think you liked it.”
Jiung doesn’t respond, whether to prevent what regrets he might let slip out or simply because he can’t find the words, you don’t know.
And Intak takes the opportunity to press on. “And I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes traveling further down, “you’re hard under the table right now just thinking about it.”
The pause that follows is thick and nearly tangible with tension in the small space between you three.
But there is also the chance that Jiung might throw something. To save the peace of your home, you cut in.
“If you two are going to fuck, can you not do it where I eat?”
All at once the tension breaks—Jiung clicks his tongue as he picks up the empty bowls and rises for the kitchen (he’s not hard), and Intak beams with the satisfaction that he’s won the argument for once.
Intak turns to throw you a cocky grin. “Dont worry, we wouldn’t leave you out of it.”
You roll your eyes despite the smile tugging on your lips as you rise with your bottle of soju and escape to your couch.
“Keep dreaming, lover boy,” you tease without commitment as you drop yourself on the cushions.
Honestly, you wouldn’t want anything more. But you can’t let yourself admit that. Rather, you can’t let them know that—you don’t know just how much more insufferable they can get. You don’t want to know.
As expected, Intak follows you with his complaints.
“But that’s not fair,” he whines as he drops down beside you with a pout. “I didn’t get a turn.”
“Because Jiung won, fair and square.”
“Oh come on,” he huffs, his warm hand landing on your knee and clamping down pleadingly as he fixes you with those big eyes and that cute smile that he knows you’re weak to. His voice drops to a low purr as he crowds into your space. “I can do so much better than him.”
Your body seems to not want to heed your inhibitions; instead it welcomes his heat in your orbit, subtly seeking it out.
Intak notices the way you falter, and he braves to slide his hand up to settle on your thigh. The heat of his skin is a searing presence through your jeans.
“Don’t you wanna find out?” He asks, a low whisper as his eyes settle on your lips. The tip of his tongue flicks out in a subconscious tic, one you’ve become familiar with, and leaves his lips looking even more enticing.
You do want to find out. Your body pulses with a need to.
So you swallow down the tension in your throat, shifting just a little closer.
“Don’t fall for it,” comes Jiung’s deep voice as he settles on your other side, another wall of heat encasing you. It sobers you immediately. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
You mentally shake yourself out of your stupor and sigh to yourself, leaning back on your cushions to escape the line of fire.
“How would you know?” Intak immediately bites, his attention easily pulled from you and fixed on Jiung. Though his hand remains clamped down on your thigh. “See for yourself, and then you can talk shit.”
“I’m not fucking you.”
Intak sputters. “I didn’t mean that!”
“Yeah? Then what did you mean?”
“I just—you—just, go back to the kitchen!”
“Not until you get your dirty paws off of her.”
“Dirty? I’ll show you dirty—“
“Oh my god, are you guys going to just fight or fuck me?” You snap. Two sets of eyes turn to you, bewildered. “Or are you going to actually fuck each other finally? At least let me watch.”
They gape at you like fish, jaws slacked and eyes wide.
“You—was that a serious offer?” Intak asks, gaze practically glittering at the prospect.
“Fucking each other?” You raise a brow. “If that’s what you want, go for it, I’ll happily sit back and w—“
“Cut the crap,” Jiung snaps, and you quickly close your mouth.
Your body grows hot at the tone of his voice, so demanding and so similar to then. He narrows his sharp eyes at you and somehow makes you feel like you should be the one apologizing.
“Why did you really invite us here tonight?” He asks.
Well. You certainly weren’t fooling yourself.
You let out a sigh, leaning forward to drop your bottle on the coffee table. “Guess there’s no point in pretending.”
You become hyper aware of their presence, their prying eyes. The air becomes more heated with each passing second that they wait for your answer.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” you admit.
Your gaze flits between the two of them. Intak just looks hungry, like he’d been waiting to hear that all night. Jiung looks… a little shy.
He avoids your gaze, looking instead at Intak’s hand fidgeting with the inner seam of your jeans, but he isn’t really looking.
The thought of making him squirm makes you preen internally. Is this what Intak feels?
“What is it, Jiung?” You coo teasingly. “Don’t tell me you’ve been thinking about it too.”
“How could I not?” He defends weakly, eyes flicking up to you for half a second but they run away, land on Intak, then flit quickly away again like he can’t figure out where he can look without exposing himself.
It’s cute. Really cute.
You chance a look at Intak and see that he feels the same, watching Jiung with that same dazed smile you’ve caught him looking at you with.
And it makes you ponder.
“Hm…” You lean back, smiling when both pairs of eyes follow you. “Glad I’m not the only one.”
Neither of them respond. They simply wait and watch, like they’re waiting for a cue. Or a demand.
You bite down on your lip, reaching for Intak’s hand still on you. You lace your fingers through his, his hand twitching in response like he wasn’t expecting the touch. You give it a light tug.
“C’mere, Intak,” you call quietly, and like a sailor falling for his damnation, he gives to your beckon.
His lips press to yours slowly at first. Like he’s testing the waters to see what’s safe despite already having been here before.
You lift your hand to his jaw in quiet encouragement and he takes it well, pressing more insistently against you with a settling sigh.
You tease your tongue against his lip and he groans like it’s his ruin, his fingers clamping down tighter into your flesh, almost painfully so.
Magnetized, he parts his lips for you and you lick your way into wet heat, meeting his tongue halfway. There’s something about him that isn’t as eager as that night. He isn’t trying to prove anything to you. It’s like he’s just… giving himself over.
It makes you dig your hand into his hair and pull, drinking up that pained whimper he lets out into your mouth.
“You’re so good for me today, Takki,” you whisper with a swipe of your tongue over his parted lips as he heaves.
He pouts, blinking his hazy eyes into the present like he’d already been floating away with a simple kiss. “‘M always good for you,” he weakly argues, giving with a soft moan when you kiss him again, short but demanding.
When you pull back, he latches onto your jaw, not quite keen on being separated from you. Your eyes flutter closed for a quick moment when he mouths at the sensitive spot under your ear.
They open again for your vision to clear on Jiung, who watches the scene completely enamoured. His breathing is a little laboured too, like he’s affected just from watching.
You reach for his thigh, squeezing down onto the thick muscle and he jolts. “Don’t just sit there.”
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes flicker down to where Intak has attached himself to your neck, leaving biting, wet kisses down the smooth expanse.
“Come here,” you whisper.
It doesn’t take more for him to give into your orbit too, crashing his lips to yours in a kiss that’s more fervent than you’re prepared for.
But you meet his fire with your own. He tries to claim you from the get go, but you don’t allow it. Not this time.
You push against his seeking tongue with yours, reaching up to grab his collar and pull him further into you. He gives almost immediately, melting under your hands and moaning into the kiss.
His hand finds your shirt and clutches it in a fist in an attempt to keep it from wandering. But it explores anyway, climbing up before resting just under the swell of your breast, heavy and warm as he lets you drink him in.
He whimpers when you bite down on his lip, parting his lips like an instinct to welcome your tongue into his mouth.
You don’t get much time to map him out. Intak, still present and still insistent, starts nipping impatiently at your jaw.
You pull from Jiung to meet him, but Jiung doesn’t allow it. He grabs your jaw and turns you right back to him, stealing you with a searing kiss.
Your gasp gets swallowed up as you momentarily lose yourself to his magnetic pull, the one that demands control at all times.
But Intak doesn’t let it slide, not like last time.
He bullies his way into the kiss, carving out his own space as he tongues in through the corner of your lips.
You’re overwhelmed, your body thrums alive and simmers with nerves as they kiss your senses out of you, both in tandem and selfishly.
It’s a clash of tongues, it’s carnal and dirty and wet and loud and messy. You’re pressed back into the cushions as their bodies mould over you. There’s a hand in your hair, tilting your head back to make more space. There’s a hand on your chest, grabbing and kneading, one at your thigh and dangerously close to your needy heat.
You don’t know your left from right, your up from down—just that Jiung and Intak have a hunger for you so raw, the need to kiss you so pure, that they don’t even realize they’re kissing each other.
You pull from them slowly, careful not to startle them away, and watch it unfold.
Intak parts his lips for Jiung’s searching tongue, accepting it with a choked gasp that Jiung swallows right up. Intak tries to fight back with his own tongue but is immediately tamed when Jiung bites down on his lip. It’s a push and pull; they even kiss angry.
You’re still not sure if they even realize. But whether or not they do, you can’t look away.
You don’t know how long it goes for, how long you have to clamp your thighs shut to keep yourself from losing anymore dignity. How long Jiung and Intak try to devour each other whole.
But the hunger ebbs away as they sober for breath. Your own breaths get caught as their eyes slowly blink open, seeing through their lust driven haze. When the clarity brings them reality of what they’d been doing, they don’t clash like you expect them to.
Intak’s lips turn up into a lazy half-smile, smug and self assured as he pants his words. “I knew you were into it.”
No, they clash in an entirely different way.
Jiung is on Intak in a flash, leaping over your lap to claim the space on Intak’s as he smothers his surprised yelp with a kiss that looks more painful than anything.
“You’re the freak who couldn’t shut up about it,” Jiung spits into Intak’s mouth, digging his teeth into his lip and soaking in the pitiful whine he gets with a low laugh. He’s out of breath and heaving and a little deranged, but he argues anyway. “Don’t act like you haven't been practically begging me with your eyes for it to happen again.”
Intak doesn’t take it lying down. He grabs Jiung’s waist, takes his claiming kiss for another moment, before rolling his hips up in a pointed grind that has Jiung stuttering and throwing his head back.
“Is that why you’re so hard?” Intak gasps, grinning at the pinched expression that grows on Jiung’s face. “Because you’re not enjoying this?”
When Jiung grinds down, hard, it’s devastating enough that Intak’s expression breaks down to nothing but pure bliss, a loud moan ripping through his throat.
“I am, actually,” Jiung says, voice gruff as he shoves at Intak’s body to bully him onto his back.
Thrown into motion, you quickly scamper back to make space, with no power to do anything else.
“Where’s all that talk now, huh?” Jiung grits as he hastily tugs open Intak’s belt and the buttons of his jeans, scowling a snarky grin down at Intak’s wide, glazed over eyes that can do nothing but watch.
Jiung is a man of patience. But not in this moment, you surmise, because he just slips his hand in through the layers he couldn’t be bothered to rid Intak of and grabs ahold of his cock.
Intak wails, body jolting at the sudden pressure as he flails to grab onto Jiung’s thighs.
“J-Ji—ah!” Intak breaks off with a cry, head thrown back as moans fall freely from his parted, slick mouth.
You can’t see much from this angle, but you can see enough of Jiung’s arm moving in a rapid, merciless rhythm to know just how undone Intak is getting.
The lewd, slick sounds of skin on skin fill the air, of Intak’s pleasured little whines and grunts. It takes away all your restraint.
You clumsily loosen your jeans, pushing your hand in to press against your throbbing heat. It quells some of the ache but it fires up tenfold when Jiung pulls back his hand, spits into it, then uses it to drive Intak into tears and a babbling mess.
“Ji—mm, m’gonna—“ Intak breaks off with a loud cry when Jiung seemingly twists his fist, his head tilting back as those tears slip through the corners of his eyes.
“Yeah?” Jiung taunts, slowing his hand down enough for Intak to settle just a bit. He grabs Intak’s jaw to hold his fraying focus, looking down at him with a grin twisted with a sadistic sort of pleasure. Like he gets off on driving Intak insane. “Am I gonna make you cum? Again?”
Intak, the poor thing, can only latch onto Jiung’s forearm with both his hands and nod eagerly, rolling his hips up in mindless little bucks to chase the heat of Jiung’s fist.
“P-Please,” he sobs, parting his lips when Jiung’s thumb digs into his lower lip. “Need’ta… need you…”
Jiung falters entirely, his expression falling blank for a second that feels like it stretches longer than it is. You hear him curse under his breath before he shoves two fingers into Intak’s mouth to shut him up then starts fisting him again, rapid and unrelenting, a pace that has Intak thrashing and sobbing under him.
You dig your teeth into your lower lip to hold back your noises as you rub your clit harder in tandem, your thighs clamping down on your hand.
You can’t remember being this turned on or this wet—what does that say about you? Getting off to being ignored as the two people you want the most have at each other?
Intak’s body grows taut as it starts to bow up off the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. You drive yourself there too, to the same precipice that Jiung pushes Intak to—before it all gets ripped away when Jiung suddenly pulls back.
Intak comes crashing back down with a cry of Jiung’s name, the call tangled with a pained sob.
You refrain from shuddering too, trying to hold yourself still as you climb back into your body, your hand going still where it stays pressed against your core.
“No!” Intak sniffles. “N-No why did—I was so close,” he pants through his tears, blindly reaching for Jiung through the blur, his body quivering with the loss.
Jiung gathers Intak’s wrists and holds them to his stomach, his own breaths laboured as he watches the boy untethered under him, because of him.
“Because,” he starts, then lifts his gaze to you. You nearly jolt under the intensity of it, forgetting entirely that you yourself were even there. “You wanted to prove you were better, right?” He’s not talking to you, but the words sink into you and pool low in your gut anyway. “Prove it then.”
Intak tilts his head back slightly, blinking like he’s seeing you for the first time. His eyes turn starry at the prospect, watching you intently for your signal.
If it were anatomically possible, you’d pull Intak to you and fuck him into oblivion.
“You’re so bossy, Ji,” you say instead, slipping your hand out of your jeans and shuffling closer.
Intak bristles when you get close, squirming to get out from under Jiung but Jiung doesn’t let him go.
You press your hand to Intak’s cheek, and he immediately turns to nuzzle into your palm.
“You want to?” You ask him softly, endeared with how he blinks up at you again and nods eagerly.
“Want it—want you… Please?”
You smile at his big, begging eyes, glancing up to see Jiung watching with his hands idle on Intak’s lap, mindlessly brushing his thumb over the clothed ridge of Intak’s hard on. You meet his eyes and give him a conspiring smile that he meets with one of his own.
“You can,” you say, having to grab Intak’s shoulders and push him back down when he immediately tries to push Jiung off of him. “If you can make me come before you do.”
He makes a confused noise, one that goes unanswered as you pull back to start shucking off your jeans and your panties.
“Otherwise, Jiung gets to fuck me while you watch. Again.”
His complaints die on his tongue when you shuffle to kneel over him. As soon as your dripping cunt moves in line of his vision, his brain reroutes. He grabs onto your hips and sits you right on his mouth without another complaint.
You gasp at the first swipe of his eager tongue, tremors rushing through your body as he immediately starts to tongue at your clit.
You’ve fantasized this so many times since that night; you don’t think you’ve met anyone as talented with his mouth as Intak. And he proves it now as he starts a mind numbing rhythm of circling your clit and tonguing at your hole like it’s what he was born to do.
Seeing how quickly affected you are, Jiung gets right to work. It’s a better angle now as you watch him tug Intak’s jeans and boxers down, freeing him fully.
You bite down on your lip at the sight. Intak is thick and long, curved enticingly and so, so hard that he’s almost purpling at the tip.
“Poor thing,” you mumble under your breath, gasping when his tongue drags through your folds while he whines against you.
Jiung seems just as dazed by Intak’s cock as he wraps his hand around it once again. He has big hands, but even they look small in comparison.
Intak jerks under the pressure as Jiung squeezes down, mouth faltering against your pussy as Jiung slides his fist up in a slow drag.
You watch, mesmerized as a pearly drop of arousal beads at the tip then trickles down over Jiung’s knuckles.
You nearly forget where you are as you're barraged with the sudden urge to lean down and lick his fingers clean, then maybe seek out more straight from the source.
But you’re pulled right back when Intak’s lips wrap around your clit and sucks down hard enough to seize your body tight for a hot, blinding second.
“Fuck!” You gasp, bracing down on Intak’s stomach before grinding your hips down, dragging your clit right over his tongue.
It seems to set everything in motion—Intak grinding you down on his face as he mouths helplessly at you, Jiung holding Intak down with a hand on his hip, the other vigorously working Intak’s aching cock, and you clinging desperately onto your last morsel of sanity.
Maybe you were in way over your head. There’s no way you can last longer than Intak with the image in front of you, Jiung fisting his best friend like his life depends on it and watching as Intak devours you like he wants to devour him whole.
So you opt to look away, shut your eyes, but that plan gets immediately derailed when Jiung leans down and wraps his lips around Intak.
Intak falters with a choked moan, his hips driving up to instinctively chase the wet warmth but Jiung immediately pulls off and brings his hand down on his hip with a harsh smack.
“Stay down,” Jiung grits before he dives back down, taking him in his mouth again.
Your clit pulses dangerously at the sight. Of Jiung’s lips stretched around the girth of Intak’s cock, of the furrow of concentration between his brows as he tries to sink deeper. He stops before he can even take half of it, but seems satisfied enough with the way Intak is tensed up and just panting under you, his fingers digging harshly into your hips as a way to brace himself.
You feel Intak’s moan as a hot breath fanning over your cunt as Jiung slides up his cock, gives an experimental suck on the tip, then sinks back down with a breathy grunt.
You nearly cum on the spot when Jiung bobs his head and starts to fuck his mouth on Intak, his hand wrapped around whatever he can’t take, his eyes rolling back as they flutter shut at heady the taste of Intak on his tongue.
His cheeks are flushed, the sounds are vulgar and obscene, and you can just tell it’s not about the dumb little bet anymore.
He’s not blowing Intak because he wants to win—he’s doing it because he likes it. Because he fucking wants to. Jiung never does anything he doesn’t want to.
“Fucker,” you hiss. You reach back to clamp your fist into Intak’s hair and hold him still before you rock your cunt back down over his panting tongue.
You don’t even care anymore, especially not when the tip of Intak’s nose starts to nudge at your hole. You ride his face and chase that burning pleasure right to the end with the sight before you, of Jiung looking drunk on Intak’s thick cock and struggling to take it as Intak starts to clumsily fuck up into the wet heat.
You snap with a startled cry, the orgasm hitting you so suddenly that you nearly topple over.
You catch yourself on Intak’s stomach, shuddering as Intak dutifully licks you through the high despite being in near shambles himself.
When Jiung pulls off of Intak, it’s slow and hesitant, like he doesn’t quite want to stop. There’s a thread of saliva and precum that strings momentarily between his lips and the tip of Intak’s cock, one that you want to reach over and bat away. Jiung’s eyes are nearly glazed over, lips parted as he pants, like he was the one that just got his shit rocked.
“Pathetic,” you mutter without thought and his wide eyes snap up to you.
He looks clueless as he stares at you. “Huh?”
“You’re fucking pathetic,” you double down, pushing off of Intak, who lays there limp and unresponsive. You grab hold of Jiung’s chin, forcing his eyes to stay on you. “You’ve been wanting to do that for a while, haven’t you?” You prod, and his eyes widen with each word, red climbing up his skin.
He starts to shake his head but you tighten your grip on him and hold him still.
“What, did you really need me to mediate? Are you really that much of a coward?”
He grits his teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tries to argue but you push him back against the arm of the couch. He falls against it without fight. “Hands behind your head. You’re going to watch Intak fuck me.”
At the sound of his name, Intak bristles alive and starts to climb out from under you, settling behind you.
Jiung’s jaw goes slack as he rears up to argue. But one sharp look from you has him snapping his mouth shut, hands rising hesitantly to lock between his head and the couch.
He parts his legs to give you a little more space to settle in the compact area, but all that does is expose just how hard he is, his cock straining against his dark pants, a damp spot seeping through at the tip.
But you don’t get much time to grill him for it.
Because Intak latches himself to your back, completely bare from what you can feel of him. He mouths at your neck as his hands climb up under your shirt, clumsily grinding his still hardened cock against your ass.
“It hurts,” he whimpers into your ear with a press of his hips against you, before he hastily tugs at your top.
When you pull it off, one of his hands immediately latches onto your chest, kneading at your tit through your bra. The other presses low on your naval to push you back into him and you hiss softly as his cock brushes right against your sensitive mound, his movements eager and hurried like he can’t quite figure out what to do with himself.
“Please,” he begs, dropping his face into your shoulder to sniffle into it. “Please lemme fuck you, can’t take it anymore—‘t fucking hurts.”
Your heart tugs at the genuine distress in his voice. You’ve been stringing him long enough, and really, he’s been so good to you that he deserves much better than this.
You card your hand through his soft hair, urging his head up so you can turn to press your lips to the corner of his. He immediately turns to push his lips into yours in a weak but heartened kiss.
“C’mon baby,” you urge gently into his lips, arching your back to push your cunt against his throbbing length. “Put it in.”
Intak nearly sobs in relief, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist to hold you still as the other reaches down to guide himself into you.
His tip drags over the length of your pussy, slow, heavy, hot. You think for a second he might turn it around and tease you, get back at you for putting him through everything. But Intak was never one for patience, not like Jiung.
So he catches against your hole and pushes, not bothering to ease you around him as he drives himself all the way in despite your body’s resistance at the sudden, nearly unbearable stretch.
Your mouth falls open in a loud, pained whine at the feeling of being practically split open by his cock. You nearly fall over, your body’s weight giving out, but his strong arm around you keeps you up against him.
Your walls clamp down on him, resisting against the impossible stretch. He’s big, so much worse than Jiung, especially with barely enough prep. But there’s something mindnumbing about the pain that sears through you.
Intak is a mess too, gasping into your hair as he gathers his bearings from how tight and warm you are around him.
You barely get the chance to recover before he’s pushing into you with shallow, uncontrolled thrusts that send a flare of stinging pain through you with each one.
“Fuck, Intak, s-slow d—ah!” You cut off with a yell at a particularly harsh thrust, one that has him nearly kissing your cervix.
“Can’t,” he pants, his hands sliding down to claw onto your hips. He holds you tightly before he pulls back and punches into you with a hard thrust that has you falling forward and grabbing onto Jiung’s thighs to brace yourself.
You choke down the pained yelp that rises in your throat. Intak plasters himself to your back, wrapping his thick arms around you again and holding you down as he starts to fuck you with fervour.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t,” he pants into your neck, his hand lifting to grab onto your chest once again. His hips slam into you, rocking your body with his, his cock piercing in and carving out space inside you, brushing against your walls in spots you didn’t even know were possible. “Can’t—fuck—can’t hold back, need to cum—“ He turns to dig his face into your hair as his hand tugs your bra down so he can paw at your bare tits. “Needed this—needed you for so long…”
All you can do is take it, take it as Intak pounds into you like a man possessed by his carnal desires, ones that he’s been caging inside and letting fester for who knows how long. Of course he can’t hold back anymore.
“Yeah?” You ask, gasping when he brushes against that gummy spot inside of you. The pain isn’t so much pain anymore as it is fire and bliss. You turn to press your lips to his ear, letting your breathy moans spill right into it as you speak. “Take whatever you need baby… m’all yours.”
Intak falters, his weight dropping on you as his cock pulses inside you.
Then he rises up, the heat of him against your back ripping away and leaving you cold. He grabs your hips and lifts them, arching your back before he pulls out until his tip catches against your hole, the swollen head stretching the tight ring of muscle.
Then he slams into you, once, twice, then again and again, with unrestrained, unyielding thrusts.
You cry out as he starts to insistently piston against your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the precision almost terrifying in his state of carnal chase.
“Intak!” You yell, your cries muffled when Intak’s hand lands on the back of your head and pushes you down.
You’re helpless to him and his brutal cock, forced to just lay there with your ass up and take the barrage of pleasure laced with remnant pain. It clouds your head with a fog so thick that you don’t even realize you’re pressed into Jiung’s lap, not until he bucks his hips up in an attempt to press his boner to your lips.
You blink up through the fog, your vision clearing on Jiung’s pinched expression, his brows furrowed and jaw tight over clenched teeth. His hands are still caught behind his head, though his restraint seems to be hanging on by a thread. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he watches Intak pummel into you and babble mindlessly about how you feel so good, how he’s gonna fill you up, and never gonna pull out.
Jiung’s hips buck up again, more insistently this time that his clothed cock bumps against your nose. You dig your fingers into his thighs in retaliation and he hisses, eyes snapping down to you in a weak glare.
You manage a weak smile, smug and teasing, before it wipes away with a brutal snap of Intak’s cock against your cervix.
“Fuck!” You scream, your pussy clamping down on his pulsing girth. He’s close. You’re not sure how he’s lasted so long.
He drops onto your back again, arms tightening around you as he grinds his cock into you with deep, uncoordinated thrusts.
“Gonna cum,” he warns with a gritted whimper, his dick kicking inside you as he pushes in and seats himself deep.
But he doesn’t finish just yet; he reaches down for your clit and presses his thick fingers into it, flicking against the aching nub with quick movements.
Your body thrashes under the sensation, your walls fluttering around him as you get drawn up to another orgasm.
“I-Intak…” You gasp, squirming under him.
He only speeds up, holding you tighter, rapidly rubbing at your clit. “Come on,” he pleads, rocking inside you once. “Come for me first.”
And then he pinches your clit, pushing you right over. You come with a cry of his name, pulsing violently around him as you cream over his cock.
It drives him over too. He groans and shoves his cock into you once, twice, three times before he spills inside you with a choked grunt, his entire body trembling as he shoots into you and fills you with his hot seed.
He whines like he’s pained as he releases into you, before dropping his entire weight on you after the wave passes and trapping your body between his and the couch.
…his and Jiung’s lap, you realize after a moment of coming back into your body.
You blink your eyes fully open to see Intak’s head settled on Jiung’s other hip, his eyes already open and fixed on the raging hard on right in the small space between your faces.
You nearly laugh. Until you see the fucked look on Intak’s face.
Jiung squirms under you, as if trying to shift away.
“If you two are done,” he starts with his voice low and gruff, like he’d been the one exerting himself. “Can you get off?”
Intak’s eyes meet yours and you know then that that won’t be an option. The idea pulls a tired grin on your lips.
“I dunno,” you hum, shifting a little under Intak. You shudder as Intak, still buried inside you, twitches anew. You sigh as you turn your face, nuzzling into the side of Jiung’s boner, your eyes flicking up to see him desperately trying to hold in his reactions. “It’s pretty comfy here. Isn’t it, Takki?”
Intak hums in agreement, shifting in to bump the tip of his nose against the hard ridge.
Jiung gasps a sharp breath then, his hips twitching up in reflex. “Don’t fucking play,” he seethes, though he doesn’t move, nor does he move either of you. His hands remain right where you told him to keep them.
You just giggle, letting the vibration of your voice tease him through the dampening fabric. You’re sure it’s painful with just how much he’s seeped through his jeans.
“When do I ever?” You taunt, leaning forward to end a bit of his suffering.
But Intak beats you to it. He presses over your shoulder and runs the flat of his tongue against the rough fabric, leaving a damp trail up until he reaches the tip of Jiung’s cock and latches down.
Jiung’s hand flies into Intak’s hair, letting out a choked grunt as he pushes his head down and grinds his crotch up into Intak’s face.
“Fuck,” he hisses, grinding up again when Intak lets out a startled whimper.
It only spurs Intak on as he starts tonguing over the bulge, trailing his lips tightly down the length before settling at his base.
“Shit,” you mutter, watching with your jaw slack and another nagging pull at your gut. “I should’ve just made you guys fuck. Would’ve fixed—“
“Shut the fuck up,” Jiung snaps, grabbing your hair with his free hand and pushing your face into his lap.
You go down easily, lips landing on and wrapping around his base, but not without digging your nails into his thighs in retaliation.
But he doesn’t respond to that, too occupied with both your mouth and Intak’s on him. The denim of his pants dampens under your tongue as you suckle on him, Intak still mouthing over his heated length.
“Talk too fuckin’ much,” Jiung pants as he lets you both go, only to tug open his belt.
Intak immediately reaches over you to help him pull himself free with single minded focus, tugging his pants and boxers down to let his cock spring free, hard and leaking with need.
It’s embarrassing how quickly your arguments die on your tongue, the space too occupied with your drool.
You don’t bother with your hands, reaching instead with your mouth to swallow his tip in.
You hum as the salt and musk bursts on your tongue, giving it a firm suck to milk more out of him. It’s nice, the heavy, velvety taste of him.
Jiung groans, his hand landing in your hair once again, not to push but just to have something to hold onto.
You can hear the wet sounds of Intak’s mouth sucking and tonguing at Jiung’s base, and you drag down the generous, ridged length to meet him there.
You don’t even care how obscene it is, the fact that you’re both mouthing at Jiung’s cock like filthy whores while Intak is still buried balls-deep inside you, where you can feel him hardening up again.
All you can focus on is the sounds Jiung is making, the ones Intak makes as he and you lap at Jiung’s cock in tandem, practically making out with it and each other.
You don't think you’ve done something so dirty, ever felt so dirty yourself. You don’t think you can have it any other way now.
“Look at you two,” Jiung breathes, his fingers carding through both your and Intak’s hair, fingers scratching down both affectionately and condescendingly somehow.
You moan against him just as Intak does, dragging your mouth up to swallow him in again, tonguing at the gummy tip.
Jiung lets go of your hair and takes your chin instead, digging his thumb into your hallowed cheek. “You sound better with my cock in your mouth.”
You let out an offended whine, sucking down hard to watch him hiss and jerk.
“Brat,” he grits, grunting when Intak starts prodding at the corner of your lips with his tongue in a silent ask.
You hum, popping off to let Intak in, but you don’t move away. You both tongue at the swollen tip, mouths tangling together as you practically make out with each other on Jiung’s cock.
You swirl your tongue over the tip and give it a suck before dipping into Intak’s mouth, sharing the salty taste, letting him do the same before he dips into your mouth and sucks at your tongue.
It’s brainless, completely devoid of any direction, any thought—just pure, animalistic instinct.
Jiung curses under the barrage, pushed to his limits. He holds you both down with fists in your hair and starts to fuck up into the space between your mouths, poking into your tongue and Intak’s in a mindless alternation.
Intak’s eyes roll back at the heady feeling, his body spurring to life to start halfheartedly fucking his cock into you, fully hard again.
You just lay there and take it, let the drags of his cock ease the burning that flares up between your hips again.
You let Jiung chase his orgasm between the messy press of your mouth and tongue against Intak’s—it’s frantic, lewd, head spinning.
And it’s completely over for you when Jiung starts whining.
“Gonna cum,” he whimpers, hands tightening down on your and Intak’s heads. Intak grunts at the pressure but he opens his mouth like you do, just letting Jiung rut against your tongues and faces like a bitch in heat. “Fuck, y’r gonna make me… nngh, fuck fuck fuck—”
He breaks off with a choked yell, forcing you both off of him before he takes his cock and frantically fists himself to completion.
He cums with another yell, head thrown back as he gasps through it, hot ropes of his cum landing on your faces. You try to catch them with your tongue but it’s far too messy and uncoordinated.
So you turn to Intak’s blissed out, cum splattered face and start lapping it up from him instead, your brain reduced to nothing but a filthy caricature. Intak seems to share that same mind, licking off whatever he can from your chin and cheek before he forces his tongue into your mouth and tries to take from there.
You moan against him, sharing the taste of Jiung between what you suppose is a kiss, but you can’t really tell anymore.
It’s when he cums inside of you again that you realize Intak was still fucking into you with rocky, noncommittal thrusts. It’s much less intense than the one before, but the feeling of him spilling into you again does you in, coaxing out a similarly languid orgasm out of you.
You settle with a shudder, dropping down on Jiung’s stomach, the cotton of his shirt a soft reprieve against your heated skin.
It’s a quiet moment of hard breaths and slow realization, with Jiung dead against the couch’s arm above you and Intak laid on your back and panting into your shoulder.
You don’t move. Don’t think you even can.
The first bit of motion after a handful of moments is Jiung’s voice over you, low and gruff and a little fucked up.
“What the fuck was that?”
It pulls out a startled laugh out of you. You shift, nudging at Intak’s weight to let you free.
He whines against you but obliges, though hesitant, slowly sliding out of your cunt with a hiss before he rolls down onto the floor, splaying onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.
“Heaven,” he says, all too serious as he blinks his starry eyes slowly, a giddy grin climbing onto his swollen lips.
He looks all cute and boyish with that dimpled smile, his bangs fanning over his eyes. Like he hadn’t just blown the guy he’d been fighting with over a girl, while fucking said girl.
You snort, shuffling down the couch to settle at the other end while Jiung pulls up his pants and tucks himself away with syrupy movements. Of course he’s the only one clothed while you and Intak remain almost completely bare.
You tug your bra back in place as you curl back into the cushions. “Needed is what it was. To get you dickheads to finally stop fighting.”
Intak giggles from the ground. “He’s too stubborn to stop.”
“Hm. You’re right.”
Jiung glares at you, still boneless where he lays. “I’m right here.”
Intak’s head pokes up from the ground, looking at Jiung with an impish grin. “So? Can you admit it now?”
“Admit what?” Jiung grumbles, refusing to look at him and opting for the ceiling instead.
But Intak, annoying as he is, shuffles closer to rest his head against the arm of the couch, his face right below Jiung’s. “That you wanted it,” he says, waiting with that smile still plastered on his lips. There’s an honest anticipation behind that gaze though, one that seems to be waiting for a particular answer. “Did you?”
Jiung is silent. You watch his throat bob, his eyes flicker down, his jaw work around his teeth.
“No.”
Intak’s smile pulls wider and only then do you see the corner of Jiung’s lips twitch up.
“In that case,” you start, finding yourself grinning too. The heat pooling low in your gut is starting to feel something like a permanent fixture. “Same time next week?”
sex with jungwon is good, no doubt about that. but the thing is… he doesn’t know how to stop.
content tags: established relationship, unhinged jw, explicit content (smut): soft dom jw (is he really?), cuffs, usage of toys, fingering, nipple play, overstimulation, basically this fic is an actual torture so read at your own risk, squirting, unprotected sex, jw has a big dick (yum🤤), creampie, cnc. MDNI. WC: 3.3K
note: it's been a really long ass time since i last wrote a smut so please bare with me. my mind is so fried but atleast i tried ahuehue... not proofread, anw, enjoy reading and reblog!
One thing about your boyfriend Jungwon? He has a bit of a collection—of sex toys, to be exact.
It’s the kind of surprise that catches most people off guard, especially considering how incredibly gentle, soft-spoken, and genuinely sweet he is.
Well...he’s still soft-spoken—his voice never rises, never loses that calm, steady tone but gentle? Not quite.
Behind closed doors, there’s a different edge to him. His sweetness doesn’t disappear, but it’s laced with dominance, control, and an intensity that contradicts his daytime demeanor. If there’s one rough thing about him, it’s the way he takes control when you’re underneath him.
Sex with Jungwon is good, no doubt about that. But the thing is… he doesn’t know how to stop.
Once he starts, it’s like he falls into a rhythm only he can hear, and you’re just along for the ride, trembling and breathless and completely at his mercy.
Your wrists are cuffed to both sides of the bed, the metal cool against your heated skin. Your legs are spread and tied down, leaving you completely exposed—open for him. At first, it’s fine. You can handle it. The slow build, the teasing. The way he slips the toy inside your pulsing cunt, then drags it up to circle your clitoris with frustrating precision.
Each slow movement of the toy has you dripping onto the sheets, your body reacting before your mind can even catch up. You don’t miss the way Jungwon’s eyes light up with excitement, a sparkle in them. A small, satisfied smile curves on his lips as he watches your pussy clench around absolutely nothing, the vibrator pulsing against you while he teases, never quite giving you what you’re begging for.
That’s the thing about Jungwon—he knows exactly how to ruin you without even touching you properly. He hasn’t taken off a single piece of clothing, hasn’t even laid a finger on your most sensitive spots. And yet, you’re falling apart.
He makes you crave everything. His touch. A simple brush of his fingers. Even just a glance at what’s hidden behind his pants—his huge fucking cock, so painfully hard. You’ve barely seen it tonight, and that alone makes you dizzy with need.
Your head is spinning. Your throat burns from all the begging, the moaning, the hoarse screams you’ve let out over the past hour. Your legs shake, your wrists ache against the cuffs, and your eyes—God, your eyes can barely stay open. Every time he pulls another orgasm out of you, they roll back with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. You’re so, so tired, and so wrecked.
“Please, please… just fuck me. Just fuck me already!” you cry out, voice cracking from exhaustion.
Jungwon is still sitting at the edge of the room, completely composed, watching you with fascination. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, still spread wide, still bound, as another orgasm rips through you. The loud hum of the vibrator fills the room, blending with your high-pitched moans and hitched breaths.
You try to shut your legs, to push the toy away from your aching core, but you can’t. You’re strapped open, so damn helpless. Your clit feels raw, burning from the endless attention. It’s been nearly two hours of this, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire. You’re drenched in sweat, heart racing, muscles twitching from the constant tension. And still… Jungwon doesn’t look finished. He watches you like you’re the most captivating thing he’s ever seen.
“L-Let’s just finish this and sleep, okay?” you gasp, trying to meet his eyes. There’s desperation in your voice, but you still try to sound sweet—still trying to bargain with the man who holds all the control.
Finally, he stands. His gaze travels slowly down your body, from your tearful eyes to your heaving chest. And then, he leans in and kisses you softly, almost tender. You melt into it, sighing against his lips, your body automatically responding despite the ache. You try to kiss him deeper, tongue desperate against his, hands twitching against the restraints as you try to pull him closer.
“Love you, my sweet little angel,” Jungwon whispers against your lips, smiling so gently it almost feels cruel.
You smile weakly back, eyes watery but soft. “Love you too… now please—please untie me?” you beg.
For a moment, your heart lifts in relief as you see him walk toward the cabinet beside the bed. You think he’s going for the keys because finally. But then your eyes widen in horror when he pulls out a small collection of toys instead and places them gently on the nightstand.
Your stomach drops.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“No!” you cry out, yanking at your cuffs even though you know it’s useless. Panic surges as he picks up a pair of nipple stimulators and places them over your already sensitive chest.
"Shit— no! Don't! Stop!"
The moment they turn on, you jolt. The soft suction and flickering pulses send electric shocks through your breasts, focusing on your nipples and making your back arch off the bed.
“Ahh—n-no! No more!” you shout, writhing, body bucking against the restraints.
Jungwon doesn’t say a word. His fingers trail down slowly, tracing the mess between your legs, spreading you gently. Then, without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, curling and sliding them.
“Hahh… J-Jung… ahh—” Your head falls back, and your eyes roll. The pleasure blurs everything—your thoughts, your words. “I c-can’t… anymore…” you whisper, voice trembling, barely holding together.
Your thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm, lost to the overwhelming flood of sensation. Every nerve in your body is lit up, every inch of you trembling, wrung out, and oversensitive.
Jungwon, on the other hand, looks like he’s in bliss. His chest rises and falls with labored breaths, eyes locked on your body. When he feels your walls tightening around his fingers, his lips part with a quiet moan. The way you grip him—so hot, so wet, so helpless—nearly drives him insane.
Your head lolls to the side, arms stretched and chained above you. Your mouth hangs open, tongue slipping out slightly, drool tracing a path from your lips to your chin. You’re panting, muttering broken, incoherent phrases that even you don’t understand.
Underneath his pants, Jungwon’s cock throbs with the weight of restraint. Finally, he pulls his fingers out of you and quickly undresses, his hands shaking in urgency. He barely blinks, barely breathes, as he climbs back onto the bed.
Before you can even register his presence fully, you hear another vibration. A sob tears from your throat as a small egg vibrator slips inside you, humming to life with a relentless buzz. Another one is pressed directly to your clit, making your hips jerk violently. The stimulation is too much, all-consuming and now you’re crying, tears running freely down your cheeks.
Your mind is barely there when Jungwon settles over you. You feel his body hovering close, the warmth of him mixing with yours. He cups your cheek with one hand, gently brushing away your tears, while the other supports the back of your head.
“Shhh…” he soothes. “It’s okay, baby. You can take it, can’t you? Be my good girl, hmm?”
You can’t even answer. Your lips tremble, a sob stuck in your throat, your body wracked with pleasure that borders on pain. The buzzing on your clit, the pulsing deep inside you, the suction on your nipples—it’s too much!
“You’re my good girl, right? Answer me, angel,” Jungwon repeats.
“I-I… I’m y-your… nghh… g-good girl,” you manage to choke out, eyes squeezed shut. The moment you say it, Jungwon smiles—and not just any smile, but the one he gives when he’s deeply, thoroughly satisfied. It’s the kind of smile that says he’s proud of you.
He shifts on the bed, straddling your hips, his knees on either side of you. His cock is flushed, rock hard, and leaking precum. From this angle, you can see it clearly—aching and ready. Your breath catches.
“Say you can take it,” he says again, eyes burning into yours.
“I-I c-can t-take it… F-FUCK!” you scream as the vibrator inside you kicks up to a stronger setting. Your nails dig into your palms, your back arches off the bed, and your legs jerk against the restraints. Another wave crashes over you, and you’re gone again, mouth open in a silent scream before the moans pour out helplessly.
Jungwon groans at the sight of you. He tosses the remote aside and his hand wraps around his length, the slick glide of his palm a poor substitute for what he really wants, but right now, it’s enough because what he’s seeing? It’s everything.
You’re trembling, legs shaking uncontrollably, arms pulled taut by the cuffs. Your entire body is soaked in sweat, flushed, and still, you’re clenching and twitching, hips jumping with every surge of overstimulation. You’re crying, sobbing softly through parted lips, but your body won’t stop responding. And to Jungwon, there’s no more beautiful sight in the world.
Ecstacy.
He never understood the word fully before you. People always talked about it like a fleeting rush, a peak that fades as quickly as it comes. But with you? It lasts. It blooms slowly.
"Hahhh.... 'Wonnie, c-close again!"
Jungwon whines, an unfiltered, almost desperate sound as his hand speeds up. He braces himself on the mattress, panting through clenched teeth as the fire in his gut coils tighter and tighter.
You’re nearly delirious, legs quaking, sweat dripping off your skin in soft trails. The small toy is still pulsing relentlessly between your thighs, buzzing away mercilessly, and you—his perfect, precious girl—can do nothing to escape it.
Your body jolts, then locks up. Another wave crashes over you, and Jungwon can see it in real time—your stomach tensing, mouth falling open, eyes fluttering back as you climax again. It’s like your soul momentarily leaves your body and crashes back into it, all in one breathless scream.
He groans loudly, the sound raw and shameless, as his orgasm builds at the sight. His cock throbs painfully in his grip, aching for release.
“Stop! Please… stop! Make it stop!”
You’re sobbing, shaking your head side to side, tears streaking your cheeks as your voice breaks entirely.
A strangled gasp escapes Jungwon’s lips as his climax slams into him. His body jerks forward as he spills across your stomach and chest. The orgasm tears through him, spine curling, muscles locking, vision flashing white at the edges. His hips twitch helplessly as each pulse escapes him, breath ragged, mind floating somewhere far away.
Between his high and the aftershocks rolling through his body, he still hears you screaming his name, begging him to stop.
Jungwon blinks, disoriented. For a moment, his mind is blank, floating somewhere between euphoria and guilt. But then his eyes land on you.
With shaky hands, he reaches for the remote and flicks off the power. The hum of the toys dies, replaced by silence—save for your ragged breathing, the hiccuping sobs that break his heart, and the faint creak of the bed as your body finally begins to fall limp in exhaustion.
He moves fast but gentle, slipping the nipple clamps off first. His breath hitches at the sight—your nipples flushed deep red, firm and oversensitive. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to touch, to kiss, to soothe with his mouth.
Then there’s the vibrator still buried inside you. It’s soaked, your slick dripping down your thighs, clinging to the toy as it slips out with a wet, lewd sound. The air is thick with the scent of sex, of release, of everything you gave him tonight. His stomach tightens again at the sight, but he forces himself to stay focused.
“D-done?” your voice comes, barely a whisper.
Jungwon doesn’t answer right away. He’s still staring. His body might’ve just finished, but his mind is caught somewhere in the afterglow.
His fingers fumble briefly with the small key before unlocking the cuffs, one by one. You don’t even lift your arms—just lie there, shivering, twitching occasionally when a breeze brushes across your skin.
You let out a shaky breath as your wrists fall free. A sob leaves your chest, but this time it’s soft—relieved. Grateful. Your arms weakly pull inward, cradling your own chest as you collapse into the sheets.
But your body… it’s still trembling. You’re still soaked. That last orgasm hadn’t even faded, and the aftershocks have your thighs twitching with every shift of your hips.
Jungwon swallows hard as he kneels behind you, watching your body try to recover, the way you curl slightly into yourself like you’re trying to keep your insides from spilling over.
"J-Jungwon?"
You feel his hands gently reposition you, guiding you slowly onto your stomach. You let him, barely resisting, only sobbing quietly, the kind of sound that makes his chest ache and his cock twitch.
“One more,” he whispers near your ear, brushing his lips over your cheek. “Just one more, baby. Then I’ll stop. I promise, okay?”
You cry out, he gently pushes your legs apart and lifts your hips just enough, guiding you into position.
“Fuck,” he hisses, as he presses forward slowly but your body reacts instantly.
"Ahhh!" You gasp, then squeal as your walls clamp down, and without warning, a gush of liquid pours from you. You’re fucking squirting.
Jungwon groans, forehead dropping to your back, overwhelmed by the sheer sensitivity of your response. Your hips try to jerk forward, trying to escape, but he holds you in place with one arm curled around your waist.
You’re still spasming when he finally sinks inside, forcing his huge cock inside you. Your soaked walls resist him in a trembling way, trying to push him out while also drawing him deeper.
You scream again as he fills you, your voice breaking around the sobs. He hushes you gently, lips brushing your neck.
“Shhh… it’s okay, baby. Almost there. You can do it—just a little more,” he whispers, his own voice shaking.
He stays still for a moment, buried inside your pulsing heat, feeling your body flutter and tighten around him. His chest presses to your back, arms wrapping around you, holding you close as you sob into the pillow.
“My good girl,” he breathes, kissing the space behind your ear. “You’re doing so well. So perfect for me.”
You whimper brokenly, clenching again as he slowly draws his hips back—just an inch—and thrusts forward again.
Your body goes pliant beneath him, letting him take the lead, letting him guide every motion as his hips begin to roll with slow, fluid strokes. The drag of his cock through your drenched heat makes his head fall forward, jaw clenched, breath shuddering against your neck.
“Little more,” he pants. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks back into you, the tight grip of your body drawing another moan from deep in his throat. “Just… like that.”
You sob again, your hands claw at the sheets.
Jungwon groans softly and leans over you more. His hand slides gently around your neck, His thumb brushes your jaw, tilting your head up so he can see your face.
Your lips tremble. Your eyes flutter, barely open, hazy and wet from tears, but locked onto him.
He exhales sharply at the sight. He leans in and kisses you upside down, the angle is awkward, but lips finding yours between moans and movement. The kiss is messy, wet, desperate. His hips never stop, and the rhythm begins to build again, more urgent now. Each thrust hits deeper, heavier, guided by the way your body clings to him, keeps him buried.
He moans into your mouth as you whimper against his. Then his tongue drags over your bottom lip, over your cheek, catching the taste of your tears and sweat. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he licks up the salty trail along your face.
“Mine,” he breathes against your cheek. “All mine.”
Your only response is a faint cry as your body clenches again, another sharp squeeze that makes him falter, hips stuttering from the overwhelming sensation.
His hand leaves your throat and presses between your shoulder blades, pinning you gently into the bed as he pulls your hips higher, changing the angle.
“Ahh, f-fuck!” you squeal. Your thighs quiver violently, and Jungwon nearly loses it right there at the sound.
His pace falters for a beat, then picks up again, faster, more erratic. “So good—so fucking good,” he stammers out, neck slick with sweat.
Your walls clench again, fluttering around him, and he lets out a wrecked sound, almost pained in how much he needs this.
His hips slam forward as he grits out, “Pretty… you’re so pretty. So good for me.”
His hand moves from your back to your waist, holding you tight as he keeps grinding in. “I love you,” he gasps, not even meaning to say it again, but it falls out of him in a choked whisper. “I love you so fucking much…”
His voice cracks at the end, moaning into your skin.
His lips find your shoulder—he kisses it once, then again, moaning into your skin as he thrusts harder. He’s unraveling. His rhythm turns desperate, your name falling from his lips.
"J-just a little more, hmm? I'm gonna creampie this little pussy t-then— fuck, we're done." Jungwon pants, voice cracking with emotion, every word shaking as it leaves his mouth. His eyes are blown wide, focused on where he’s buried deep inside you. “I love you—ahh, I love you so much…”
Jungwon grabs both of your arms, pulling them back gently, lifting your upper body just enough to tilt your chest off the bed. Your back arches, his hips slapping against you, skin to skin, the sound filthy and wet.
Your breasts bounce with every motion, your body jolting under his force. You barely register your own scream before your entire frame begins to convulse.
"Holy shit." Jungwon gasps at the sight, eyes wide with stunned, reverent awe as he breathes out.
You let go completely—again—and it’s overwhelming. A fresh, hot stream releases from you uncontrollably, drenching everything. His thighs. The sheets. The space between you. The air fills with the scent of arousal and sweat, with the stuttering breaths of both your bodies falling apart at the same time.
His thighs shake violently as he spills his cum into you, a strangled, low moan escaping from the pit of his chest. He doesn’t stop moving—keeps thrusting, dragging his length in and out as he pours every last drop inside of you, desperate to make it last.
The warmth floods between your legs, and the way your body pulses around him only draws more out of him. And it’s almost an afterthought to you now, dulled by the overwhelming waves of pleasure and exhaustion. You’re beyond feeling it fully, your body too far gone from the overstimulation he dragged you through.
He whines high as he buries himself to the hilt again, staying there, pushing in as far as you’ll let him. Your body quivers under the weight of his release, and he presses his chest to your back, wrapping both arms around you.
"Thank you, thank you, my angel."
The room falls into a heavy silence.
When Jungwon finally, carefully pulls out of you, he pauses—eyes drawn to the mess he left behind. His release slowly trickles from you, glistening down your inner thighs, and he can’t help but stare.
Then his gaze drifts up.
Your body is limp against the sheets, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Your face is flushed and dewy with sweat, eyes barely open, lips parted like you’re still floating in that lingering euphoric high.
And yet—something about the sight of you like that makes heat stir in his gut all over again.
Jungwon swallows hard as he feels himself twitch, already starting to thicken with the urge to take you again.
your body is so sweet, sweet, sweet — sugar on my tongue, tyler the creator
⤷ ゛yang jungwon just can’t get enough of your sweet taste on his tongue. ˎˊ˗
jungwon x fem!reader ──── smut, pwop, mdni ⟡ munch jungwon, pussy drunk jungwon, oral (f. receiving), dacryphilia, overstimulation, light dubcon (? reader tries to push jungwon away but she doesn’t rlly want him to stop), cursing, jungwon referred to as wonnie / 1k wc
a/n: first fic on the revamped acc. just a few small drabbles for now while i work on some longer fics. i have a few more practically finished so i’ll post those soon too. i have so many fic ideas i’m so excited to start posting again !! also boycott belift and enhypen is 7 <3
your boyfriend was a very generous man. jungwon would gift you expensive shoes and gorgeous dresses that sparkled with each step; would bring you food every few hours just to make sure you’ve been well fed; would drop anything and everything for you, even when exhausted and busy.
he was generous, but he wasn’t a saint.
jungwon expected a gift of his own.
you were flat on your back with your hands clenched tightly in the crumpled sheets—a position you had been in for hours by now. if you had pulled any harder you’re sure your nails would’ve ripped lines straight through the dark fabric. every slurp and smack of his lips against your soaked cunt sent shivers down your spine with each filthy noise that hit your ears.
you had absolutely nowhere to go; jungwon made sure of that. he gently took hold of your calf and slowly slid your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, his strong arms locking around your hips while his hands find their way to the plush skin of your thighs to keep you from crawling away. while you were being forcibly turned into a whimpering and crying mess, jungwon seemed perfectly content where he was. his thick brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his eyes drifting shut so his dark lashes now rested on his flushed pink cheeks. his tongue licked eagerly at your essence like a cat licking up cream.
you were trying so hard to be good for him, to let him take what he wants from you and not shove him off from the constant stimulation. he always gives so much to you after all, you didn’t want to rip this away from him.
“oh, god.” jungwon murmurs, his brain nearly just as fuzzy as yours.
from where you stood—or laid—he looked nearly angelic, if it weren’t for the sinful things he was partaking in between your thighs.
“so fuckin’ good… fuck, you taste sooo fuckin’ good.” jungwon groaned. the praise made you clench down and grind your hips against his face, though you’re only half sure he was addressing you and not just murmuring to himself. he licked slow stripes up your slit, gave your clit a soft suck, then dipped back down to slide his tongue into your entrance. he repeated this over and over, moaning against your hole and pausing occasionally to give it soft kisses.
after what felt like hours upon hours of orgasm after orgasm being wrung out of you and into his mouth, you started to feel like your mind was truly melting. tears gloss over your eyes and your hands come up to push at jungwon’s head, your hips bucking up as if your body was fighting between chasing after his mouth and wanting it off of you. “wonnie, please.”
jungwon growls low against your skin, his large hand spreading heavy across your lower stomach to pin you back down to the mattress.
“stop fucking moving.” he spits, his sharp eyes finally opening and locking onto yours. you freeze up immediately, his intense gaze spearing straight through your complaints and stopping them dead in their tracks. a long whine leaves your lips in protest, but your head lolls back into the pillows and exposes the pure, clean skin of your neck. one hand stayed loosely laced in his hair as the other slid back down to cling to the bed sheets.
your submission makes jungwon grin wolfishly against you, his eyes fluttering shut as his voice dips to a low, raspy tone that makes your tummy flip. “that’s it... just lay there and take it.”
jungwon’s tongue pushes back into you. the feeling of his wet muscle licking deeper and deeper with each kiss to your entrance made you clench and gush around him. his hips start to slowly drag along the mattress, his cock heavy and throbbing in his gray sweats. he groaned at the friction, the vibration against your clit making you jolt.
“oh!” you gasp out. your nth high of the night starts to build and build fast, your back arching off the bed once more as your hand starts to yank at the mattress beneath you. gasps and moans rip from your throat sharp and loud, your chest heaving with sobs as your thighs attempt to snap closed around jungwon’s ears. “jungwon! no—hng!”
your sobbing doesn’t deter jungwon; if anything it only spurs him on more, his eating getting messier and twice as intense as he straight up pushes his face into you. his curved nose slides along your slit and bumps into your clit over and over again, the extra stimulation finally sending you over the edge.
“f-fuck, fuck! wonnie!” your body shakes as your nth climax of the night crashes over you, your brain blanking out and your nerves lighting up like you’d been shocked by a live wire. you’re pretty sure that you might’ve passed out for a second. jungwon’s tongue eagerly laps up each drop of your cum that leaks out of you, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the sweet taste of your finish in his mouth. he gently licks you through it and slides his palms back and forth lazily along the soft skin of your thighs, only pulling back when you weakly bring your hand down to tap his head.
he grins up at you, and despite the lower half of his face being slicked up with spit and your cum, he looks proud of himself. jungwon presses soft kisses along your trembling thighs to soothe you and help you gently come down from your high. your fingers instinctively rake through his soft hair, contented purrs rumbling in his chest each time your nails scratch against his scalp. your chest rises up and down steadily as your breathing finally starts to level out.
jungwon presses one last kiss to your thigh before pulling back to stare into your eyes. the action seemed sweet at first, but when his jaw went slack and his tongue poked out between his teeth, his heavy panting escaping with each heaving breath he took, you quickly realized he was still hungry. a shock rushes through your body at the mere thought of him wanting—no, needing more.
“no, wonnie—“ you shook your head, your hands coming up to his shoulders to try and keep him off of you, but he just smacked them away.
“we’re not done yet.” jungwon growled before his head dipped back down again.
⤷ bestfriend!jiung x brat!reader ༉‧₊˚. ─────── (2.0k)
˚₊‧꒰ა a couple of shots in are enough for you to start wondering how far your bestfriend's body hair goes. ˙ . ꒷
⌗ nsfw, dom!jiung, oral (m. rec), semi-public, slightly praise kink, cum swallowing, facial cum, dirty talk, face fucking, jiung has a bush, alcohol consumption, mentions of throwing up, p1harmony cameo.
𑣲⋆ (kinda) requested by: @mydearandy .✦ ݁˖
Given your well-known low tolerance for alcohol, you would have done your best to avoid drinking even a single drop that night. But how could you have avoided it? When Keeho teased you for being a wimp and Intak practically shoved the bottle of tequila down your throat, saying it would “make it more fun”.
And while it might have actually been more fun for them, you had your head in the clouds. More specifically, you were fixated on the way Jiung’s boxers peaked every time he stretched to grab something from the coffee table.
You wouldn’t be worried if it were just his underwear peeking out every now and then; the problem was the nagging doubt that had been bugging you ever since you noticed that perfectly irritating line of fine hair below his belly button.
As much as you love all your friends equally and spend almost every weekend at one of your places, Jiung holds a special place in your heart. You grew up together, and he’s seen you at your most vulnerable, so looking at him with desire left you feeling confused.
You tried to force yourself to stop looking, to stop wondering if the hair continued and what it would be like down there, but you just couldn’t. It was as if a magnetic field were forcing you to stare at his pants every time he moved even slightly. All you could hope for was that everyone around you was drunk or tipsy enough not to notice how blatantly you were staring at your best friend.
Luckily for you — and unfortunately for Jongseob, who were eating more than anyone — Jiung announced that all the snacks on the table were gone, causing an imaginary lightbulb to go off above your head with an idea that wouldn’t have occurred if you were sober:
“I’ll help you grab more,” you spoke up as you were already getting up, a little unsteadily, leaving him no choice but to accept your help.
The others didn't seem to mind; they were too engrossed in talking about whatever it was. Jiung, on the other hand, followed you in silence down the hallway leading to the kitchen. “You are such a weak drinker. Can barely walk.”
You gave off every sign of annoyance, even with your back turned: clicked your tongue, shrugged, and rolled your eyes. He was so intriguing, but just as annoying as ever.
Halfway down the short hallway, you find yourself passing by the main bathroom, not thinking twice before pulling the boy behind you into the room and closing the door.
“What are you doing?! Gonna throw up?” Despite the obvious mocking tone, you could sense a hint of concern. You weren't such a lightweight that you'd throw up after just a few shots.
Not knowing how to say “I want to see your dick,” in a way that wouldn't scare him or embarrass you for the rest of your life, you decided to just grab Jiung’s face and press your lips against his, eventually pushing him up against the door.
His reaction was almost immediate and unexpected: he kissed you back. His hands quickly found their way to the back of your neck, leaving you at his mercy as he took control of the kiss. His lips were, as expected, soft thanks to his daily skincare routine, and deep down you could taste the bitter flavor of the absinthe you’d refused to drink.
Both of your breaths were ragged and desperate, as if you were willing to practically suffocate if it meant you could practically devour each other.
“I've wanted to do this for so long,” he said, breaking the kiss to rest your foreheads together. "Seriously.”
“Then why haven't you?”
“For the same reason you dated that jerk,” and your eyes widened. You knew he didn't like your ex — but jealousy? You just bit your lip to hold back an excited smile.
“And why did you do that?” Jiung looked you up and down, making it clear what he meant by his question, still holding onto your head as if you were going to run away.
“It’s stupid,” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at his face. “Your happy trail made me wonder…”
Jiung raised his eyebrows in surprise at your answer. He couldn’t help but laugh at your silly confession, causing you to look back at him in astonishment. “Wonder what?”
His hands began to slide dangerously down to your shoulders, then brushed innocently against your breasts before finally coming to rest on your waist, gripping you tightly.
“What are you like down there,” a quick answer, without further ado. Alcohol is really dangerous.
You felt him grip your waist and his gaze drift down to your revealing cleavage. “You have no idea how many times I've wanted to know what you look like down here. But you didn't see me going around grabbing you in the hallway.”
He really couldn't change his attitude, but you were horny enough to let him do whatever he wanted with you. “Check it out then.”
“Let's put your mouth to a better use,” you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the situation, but Jiung’s rosy cheeks were a sight you hoped would be etched in your memory forever. With that, he moved his right hand to the top of your head and pushed you toward the floor, making you kneel in front of him without much effort.
“Now you check it out,” he smirked as he gently ran his fingers through your completely messy hair. As much as you wanted to tease him back, you were desperate to see your best friend’s cock. Without breaking eye contact, you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, finally breaking the intense eye contact to slightly lift his shirt and get a close look at what had led you to this situation.
Not only did his happy trail fascinate you, but the three butterflies drawn to the right of it took your breath away. “You’re so pretty, Ji,” you could feel his body react to the compliment as you took your hand to drag it along his lower abdomen.
“Hurry up,” a gentle tug on your hair made you turn your attention to his face. “The others will miss us.”
“Let them,” even though you wanted to take your time with him, he was right. So you hurried to pull his pants down to his ankles, blessed with the sight of his erection screaming for attention inside his boxers. “But it would be cool if they watched it... it's quite a sight.”
You could feel Jiung’s tension and urgency as your head was pushed right up against his bulge. You could feel just how hot and hard your best friend was, even through the single layer of fabric covering it, which made you rub your thighs together in anticipation.
“Do you want me to help you? Fucking hurry up,” he thrust his hips forward to rub his covered member against your face, seeking any kind of self-relief.
“Maybe if you asked more politely…” You could have sworn he whispered that you’re a bitch, but you were too distracted by something else to care in the slightest: Jiung taking off his boxers right in front of you
It was better than you could've asked for: he was surprisingly bigger than you expected, and you couldn’t help but notice that the color of its tip matched the color of his lips. But what caught your attention most was his bush. You didn’t expect someone as meticulous as Jiung to let the hairs go untrimmed.
“Ji, it's so pretty,” instinctively, you grabbed his cock in your hand and began to slowly stroke it, admiring the way the pre-cum pooled on the tip. “Fuck, so pretty.”
The alcohol had completely taken over your body by this point, because there was no way you could have been that brave on your own. But it was worth it when you looked up and saw Jiung looking right back at you, clearly holding back any sound that might escape his mouth.
But that wasn't what you wanted.
With that in mind, you leaned in and took as much of his dick into your mouth as you could handle, drawing a scream from him loud enough to make him cover his mouth.
You smiled at your conquest and kept pushing it all the way down your throat, not caring about the lack of air or the uncomfortable sensation.
Since he wasn’t pushing your head anymore, you pulled your mouth away from him and went back to jerk him off, looking at him with the most innocent expression you could muster at that moment.
“You taste so good too, you know? Wish I had you earlier,” you moistened your lips before leaning in and scattering gentle kisses along his length, never once breaking eye contact — you couldn’t bear to take your eyes off a completely flushed and utterly flustered Jiung. “Bet it would fill me up so well. Bet you'd fuck me so well…”
You didn't give him a chance to answer, because you were already taking him into your mouth once again. And that's how you kept going: bobbing your head up and down his dick and reveling in his struggle to hold back his moans.
The sight was obscene: Jiung, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open, flushed face, and a bit of sweat forming on his neck. You couldn't help but let out a moan, sending shivers down his length that made him pull away.
As you tried to catch your breath, you looked at him, confused, trying to figure out if you had done something wrong.
“Don't wanna cum yet. Wait a sec’,” As you wiped the drool from around your mouth, you chuckled to yourself at your best friend’s lack of self-control.
“And I’m the weak one?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you knew that Jiung hated being teased and enjoyed annoying him every day, but you’d never seen that look on his face before. By the time you realized it, he was already guiding his cock into your mouth again, this time grabbing your hair so tightly that your scalp started to hurt.
All you could do while he fucked your mouth was moan. The only relief you felt was digging your nails into his thighs as he ravaged your throat.
“I’m the best dick you'll ever take. ‘m still gonna fuck you so much- fuck- fuck you dumb,” his other hand joined the one already on your head for extra support. His hip movements became more frantic, leading you to believe he was about to cum.
And all you could do was take. Staring at his face, which was contorted with pure lust, you waited until he had released almost everything into your mouth; what was left ended up all over your face.
He came so beautifully, too — the broken moan and the furrowed brows as he jerked off to milk every single drop onto your face.
“Someone was waiting for this day”, you mocked as you used your thumb to wipe away a trace of his cum that was tickling your cheek, immediately bringing it to your mouth.
“I was serious. I still wanna fuck you,” he said in the most serious tone he could manage as he pulled up his pants and buttoned them, helping you up from the floor right after.
As you stared at each other, a deafening silence fell over the bathroom, making you feel awkward and prompting you to sneak over to open the door. “Let's just go,”
When both of you arrived at the living room — hands empty — everyone was staring at you. A wave of embarrassment washed over you, and your body immediately grew hot: your hair was still a mess, and some of your makeup had completely smudged.
On the other side, Jiung just moved to sit down where he originally was, not even bothering to explain the absence of snacks.
“I threw up,” you quickly stated, looking at your friends’ faces to check if they bought it.
“Right,” Taeyang started unbothered, “and that's not cum on your chin.”
Not only your eyes, but Jiung’s eyes widened too. Embarrassed, you quickly wiped your chin and rubbed your hand on your top. Not knowing where to hide, you just went back to the bathroom while you could hear Keeho complaining about people fucking in his bathroom.
SUMMARY: Kim Jongseob has always been one of your brother’s closest friends. All your life, he’s made you feel nervous, insane, and completely off balance, but that’s what crushes are supposed to do, right? When Intak convinces you to join him and his friends on his birthday trip to Japan, it seems like a perfect plan! But what should have been a simple vacation quickly turns into a minefield of stolen glances and accidental touches.. now suddenly, everything feels different.
DISCLAIMERS: NON idol au! Smirk. brothers best friend! Reader is pining (It makes her feel insane…..) , LOSER!!!!jongseob Who else is shocked???? , casual stoner older brother intak #NeedThat Heh. She fell first and WAITED, he fell harder tho I think. vacation Hurray! kang haerin & kim dohoon mentioned , #Duo i made up but also not. im crying.
Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the most dangerous underground fighter in all of Japan - and the…hottest, too. You, the cute nurse that takes care of him, and totally not his favorite prize, right? Right?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! nurse! reader, underground fighter! Gojo, scarred Gojo, he wears a muzzIe, slight vioIence, he’s a little (very) ínsane, muscular Gojo, manhandIing, full neIsons, semi-public, thigh grínding, edging, Gojo goes FÉRAL, tummy buIges, creampíes, face-sítting (fem rec.), cúmplay, BIIIG stretches, running from it, making it fit, HEADLOCKS, chokíng, fighting talk, squírting, dúmbifícation, víbrators, marks (on him), L bómbs, Sukuna cameos, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.0k
A/N. Happy 100 chapters on AO3!! Here’s a lil’ something for my hubby <3
They say that Gojo Satoru could take down the strongest of fighters with only six moves.
Audiences adored him, opponents insisted that the man wasn’t even human. And it was well known around these parts that one had to be brave enough that it inched into stupidity to ever even think about challenging him.
Hell, they’ve had to muzzle him in thick leather just to give his opponents even the briefest advantage.
Some trembled in fear at the very mention of his name - peering ‘round, making sure they wouldn’t catch a glimpse of those haunting sapphire eyes, or those scarred fists that left no evidence. No witnesses. Others scoffed at the exaggerations of what were obviously little more than sketchy underground scraps. A publicity stunt, surely.
That is, until they saw him.
And you have, too.
With the nature of your job, you had to constantly be present after rounds to tend to bruises, scratches and - if Gojo was involved - broken bones, after all.
Only…you were here for him.
“OH! King of Curses down- Six Eyes knees him in the ribs so hard that I’m sure you could hear it, ladies and gentleman! Is he the one who’ll take the Shinjuku Showdown grand prize tonight?!”
You’re grimacing at both the booming volume of the eager commentator, and the cracking slam of flesh-on-flesh. Having your special nurse’s position smack-dab on the first row meant that you could see n’ hear everything.
Everything.
From the roaring cheers of the bustling crowd on their feet, to the way that Gojo was gritting through his dark Stygian muzzle and grinning. Wild. Gorgeous.
Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily - despite the way the entire underworld had his name in their mouths, the one thing nobody ever disagreed on was how…hot Gojo Satoru was.
A devil masquerading like an angel. All curtains of silky, sweat-slicked white hair, and muscles for daaaays. His skin-tight t-shirt was hanging off of him in nothing but rings of tatters, showing off a snowy happy trail that makes you gulp. Milky skin glistening in the beating stadium lighting, all decorated in as much battle-won scars as sultry, sultry veins.
Gojo’s towering shadow falls right in front of where you were gawking up at him, and fuck- he makes a big show of letting the rest of his shirt riiiip—! with only a mere tug.
Well, there was a reason he was your favorite patient.
And you swear he was so close that you could practically taste the scorching iron dripping between his lips, lacquering his pearly whites with a thin film. All red and raw when he turns to you and winks–
“HOLY SHIT! The King makes a comeback- he’s still on his feet! And he’s swinging wide at our monster Six Eyes.”
The thundering, thick stadium air simmers a few degrees tenser as Ryomen Sukuna crashes his meaty, closed fist right into the other’s right cheekbone. Shocked inhales ring out all around you - because if Gojo was the monster of underground fighting, then Sukuna was the curse.
The only fighter in history to ever get a solid few knocks on the other. Both massive.
And if this was anyone else, the sheer force would have made them pass out right then and there. If this was anyone else, then they wouldn’t be snickering-
“Cute.” Gojo’s deep sing-song voice is cold. Seething. Just barely audible enough that your buzzing eardrums can make out. He throws one arm over the stretchy fighting ring ropes, “But I gotta lady ta impress.”
Crimson eyes flicker to you for nothing but a split-second, but it was long enough for the other man to grow rigid. On edge for the first time.
Smugly, Sukuna spits right into Gojo’s face. “Heh- Hell yeah, that chick’ll be impressed in the locker rooms by a real winner later. Me.”
Just a word about you is all it takes.
A breathless gasp departs from your lips as something in Gojo grows…different.
Without another word, he’s drifting over a hand to one of the bulky bands wrapped firmly around his wrists. Unlatching them. So often mistaken for somewhat of a fashion statement, but after so long spent in fighting company, you knew what they really were.
They were weights. Yet another disadvantage.
And they crack the ground as they fall.
“Weights? Weights?! OH- Gojo headbutts! The King of Curse’s is down-” He’s bleeding and accomplished, every trace of humor wiped. Every degree of a smirk clenched into a steely scowl, and suddenly you’re feeling that perhaps those rumors about him being superhuman are true. Perhaps. “SHIT! He snaps back with an elbow strike-”
Gojo’s big, beefy biceps tense and flex as he curls it menacingly around Sukuna’s throat into a fucking headlock - and your thighs clench.
“You- fucking-” He chokes out past the sculptured harness, cushioned palms coming to slam down on Gojo’s forearm. “For- for some girl-”
Tightening, “What was that~?”
“The King misses- oh, he’s in some real trouble now! Place your bets, you greedy watchers, there’s a reason they call Six Eyes ‘The Strongest’.”
And you knew that underground fights had no rules other than attempt not to die - or, at the very least, try not to make a mess when you do. It’s hard to get stains out of the felt. But Sukuna’s vein-popped face was going purple now, and Gojo was blank-featured through it all.
Barely even flinching as his opponent grapples a hand into his ridged obliques, lunging and lunging. And yet, the strongest doesn’t even flinch.
Doesn’t even notice, it seems.
His ghostly cerulean eyes drift to you, seated on the edge of your chair, and he slams a knee into Sukuna’s rugged face. Letting the man drop onto the frictional ground with a resounding thud! - before his fists continue.
Once. Twice. Clawing at his throat-
“FUCK- CALL THE MEDICS. SIX EYES IS MAKING A SLAUGHTER-SCENE–!”
And no one needed to draw the count, for fear of getting near. Why would they risk death incarnate?
Continuing and continuing until Yaga barks at four- five other referees to even get Gojo to budge. They only just manage to throw a few arms ‘round his powerful ones, and pull him far back enough to giggle down at the carnage he’s created.
Voice octaves higher. Crazed. “Don’t you talk about my lady, ya hear?”
Yaga, as Gojo’s burly coach and former champion, is the one that dares break his harrowing eye-contact to shake him into a stand. Ordering the organizers to get the awards ceremony done as swiftly as possible lest they wanted one of their top-earning fighters down for the count permanently.
“S-Six Eyes is the champion of Shinjuku Showdown! And in LESS than his signature six moves- oh what a fight it was! One for the books, folks!”
Of course, Six Eyes is declared the winner.
And as Gojo is handed a glinting winner’s banner - dominant arm being thrust in the air - you watch as Sukuna’s barely half-conscious firm slurs out a ferocious, “Rematch. T-tomorrow.”
Cash. A shoddy belt. Champagne.
Tens upon hundreds of reporters and photographers scramble and keen to get the most-selling shots of him. The glare of the flashing lights illuminating him into some sort of other-worldly figure.
A fighter so dangerous that they claim he hides six eyes. And yet, they only remain on you.
Though, it’s not as if you’re any better - you can’t look away.
He stands tall, proud. Button nose overspilling with a wisp of cherry-red, perspiration-dampened shorts clinging onto thick thighs and showing you a pretty tuft of white in a way that was unintentionally sexy. Gojo’s leathery mask now dangles haphazardly to show off such a wicked grin.
And Gojo points. Right at you. In front of everyone.
“Later,” he’s mouthing, whilst interviewers scream for a quote.
Oh…
.
.
.
“Fuh-fuuuck, Toru–!” Your mouth floods with sheer bucketloads of drool through each wailing whine n’ whimper, back arched like such a slut into Gojo’s bumpy, Herculean front- though, what else could you have expected when the great Gojo Satoru himself accompanied you to your dingy clinic above the fighting ring?
Ready for his real prize of the night.
And lo and behold, bandages and rubbing alcohol forgotten, you’re finding yourself draped right over his lap so prettily; struggling to close your jittery legs ‘round his huge, meaty thighs.
The fringes of your teeth nip right along Gojo’s plush, scarred deltoids once he tugs on your nurse’s outfit and clings onto a good handful of your ass, draaaagging you to grind all over his quadriceps. Dribbling out a fresh line of candied slick that smears on top of every dip and curve of his bulging muscles.
Your drenched panties catch onto his velvety boxing shorts and you have to hold back a tiny sob. With a deep inhale of his musky cologne, you murmur, “T-Toru, I wan’ you ngh- so bad, y’know?”
“Awww, how cute~” He’s crooning from above,muzzle still on. The pointed curve of his nose tickling your throbbing pulse. Dangerous. Gojo breathes in your sweet scent until it’s all he can smell, “But yer gonna get us caught, mama.”
And he’s so mean.
He fought mean, and he teases you even meaner.
You’re frowning, kiss-swollen lips down-turning into a pout once the sensory pads of his stern digits rover up to your cheeks and smush them together. Crashing your jutted mouth into his frosty mask–
“C’mon now, gotta- gotta be quiet.” Gojo groans at the way you’re getting ever-more soaked when he’s toying with you like this. Lazily, he drops his muzzle to let his plump, bubblegum-pink lips tickle down your own, “Suck on my tongue, there- you can do better.”
So filthy.
Huffing out, your further unfastened jaw basically floods with the damp rivulets of saliva that just kept on watering out of you. When it rained, it poured - and Gojo finds himself smirking at the slop. “Yeah- yeahyeah, you got it. Theeere’s a good girl.”
Weepy pussy positively throbbing at the scratchy texture of his tongue like candy, you couldn’t help but let your fuzzy mind wonder how it would feel inside-
“Oi, nasty girl.” Your pitchy yelp fills the paper-thin walls as Gojo gifts the right of your ass with a rude spank, and then one more just to hear you make that cute noise again. Gruffing out, “Can feel ya getting wetter on top of me. S’like a damn waterpark.”
Before you have the time to even catch your breath, he slouches back sensually to watch you - letting your thin patient bed ring out with an ancient creak!
And Gojo stares at you lecherously- oh, he was devouring you with his heavily half-lidded gaze.
The way you’re pouring out syrupy sap with every urgent back n’ forth of your hips, the way all he has to do is hook a thumb past your gluey stuck panties to watch you pulse and quiver.
Hazy, summer blue peripherals roaming all over your needy expression for a split-second before he’s tap-tap-tapping the doughy mound of his heel on the tile floor. Bouncing you with every motioned lurch, your puffed-up clit catches on one of his zig-zagging veins and you squeal.
Oh? Speeding up, you’re struggling desperately at his whims. One hand grappling onto Gojo’s dimpled back, and the other clawing at the starchy bedspread, no matter how much you were trying to regulate the tempo - he would just speed up more.
And more. And more.
Over and over he’s lurching just a few carnal inches off of your bedsprings to chase your sensitive nub. Reeling you down - hard - with a hand stuck to you like adhesive, to pap! against his thigh, letting white-hot bliss spark all that way from your pressurized clit and up your clammy spine.
“F-fuck!” You’re babbling away, fingers interlocking with the soft creamy curls at his nape. Clawing. “Toru– k-keep that up and I won’t…”
Gojo perks his calloused thumb to swivel over your sloshing mess and promptly plugs up your unfastened lips, muffling you. “Shhh shh sh- Wouldn’t wan’ any of those fucks to hear those pretty noises, my girl.”
He was brutal.
Your lower tummy was tumbling and spinning and doing gymnastics you didn’t even think existed. And it was times like this that the strongest from all those headlines peaked his head through.
Swirling your tongue around his plummy fingerpad, he tasted so much like caramel salt that made your legs grow weaker. Cadence springing to jerky. To oversensitive. “P-please- ngh!”
“Now, what was that pretty lil- hey now, c’mere.” Your lungs cave with a soft ‘please’ as soon as an engulfing, bruised hand crowns your sweat-oiled scalp and holds you still. Gojo doesn’t even have to try, and yet he’s showing off a few sexy flexes of his biceps just for you to ogle at.
Rutting his jerky leg up into you until your head throws back, he can’t help but leave a sweet, innocent peck right there on the tender spot of your throat. “Don’t run. Don’t run from me.”
Another wet kiss near your slobbery maw, and yet another swat of his thickly tipped fingers right over the slivery slope of your pussy. The sharp sting was just enough to get your glassy eyes to focus on him, “Yeah? Look at me- gimme a lil’ kiss, mama.”
Oh, he always was such a ruthless opponent.
Because as soon as your spit-glossed lips are crawling towards his, Gojo’s prying them open and spitting inside with a soft coo. Watching as the treacly wad of splashing syrup slides allll the way to puddle the back of your throat.
“T-tease.”
“I think you mean…champion.” He hunches you over until you’re slipping n’ sliding all down the ridged rollercoaster of his abs. The fragile points of your hardened nipples massaging into his sensual scars and driving you mad. Sweaty and needy. Boring dead-on into your half-shuttered heart eyes, “Now, tell me what you want.” He hums, still tugging on your bloated outer cunt, watching you gasp. “Tell me what’s got this lady here so fuckin’ wet.”
Your words choke with every viscid tear - tears of bliss. Close. “Want t-to-”
“Mhmm–?”
“To-” You’re just so far gone, your gushing orifice only getting soppier and soppier by the second. And before Gojo’s fourth and final spank comes slamming down on your clit- you’re crying. “Cum- fuck fuck fuck- m’so close. So- m’gonna cum–”
And as soon as it was about to happen - it’s gone.
Immediately, your lungs depart with a disappointed whine. “Nooo–!” Scratching at the pronounced back of his throat, you’re struggling to maneuver your body within his merciless hold. And the entire time Gojo only watches in amusement at his sheer display of strength, “I was so close- fuck! Was about to cum, Toru…”
“Nuh uh.” Gojo’s grinning - grinning. And oh, despite the way that makes his cheek indent with a cute, cratering dimple you already know this won’t bode well for you. “M’starvin’ after that match.”
Before you can dredge up enough brainpower to ask what that meant - he’s already showing you.
Falling back onto the stark white bed until his head hit the pillows with a dull whoosh! and for the moment you’re simply admiring just how pretty he is.
This wasn’t the Six Eyes that everyone knew and feared.
With his ethereal locks splaying out on the cushion like a halo, looking oh-so-pale in comparison to the pretty pink that he was flushing all the way from forehead to neck. Irises half-lidded, crazed. Gojo’s broad, scarred chest heaves with every murked out pant he was whistling out.
Twiddling over the shoulder strap of that tight lil’ number you called your nurse’s outfit. “Take this off f’me- show me my hah- show me my lady.”
Oh, it would never get old when you do that.
The way that Gojo’s toes curl, the apples of his cheeks staining with a scorching whirlwind of blushing red. Fuck- his heavy tongue droops even heavier with a slick covering of watery spittle, just watching you in your matching set of bra n’ panties.
All in light blue.
“Knew I’d win, huh?” He’s quirking a snowy brow smugly as he does away with your bra, too. “C’mere.” Gojo’s long lashes flutter up at you delicately, his crowning smirk plastered permanently across his handsome features. And as you’re tentatively making your way on top of him, he cups a roaming grope of your left ass-cheek.
Squeezing for a second - two - before the strongest simply lifts you up to straddle his face. He doesn’t even waste a second. Doesn’t even hesitate.
Setting you down gently - you think he of all people would even need to try to manhandle your pretty self this way?
No introductions, no welcome mats necessary - your throbbing pussy was already pouring out in torrentials of translucent sap right through your underwear. Copious, dolloping droplets that hit his readily awaiting pinkish tastebuds in claggy splats!
“Mmm—” He’s swirling his soaked muscle all ‘round the insides of his mouth to just savor your sugary taste. Through a sharp, three-second spank to your ass once more, Gojo grunts, “No need to be shy. Sit on my face, mama.”
And Gojo was always such a messy eater - not even the slightest bit afraid to get his hands dirty.
No wonder all his opponents complained that he had the filthiest mouth. His tongue was lengthy, dexterous enough to slither past your panties with a sapping squelch! the very nanosecond your drooling core hits the tip of his tongue.
Oh- Gojo’s eyes agonize shut simply to memorize the pattern in which your strands of dangling slick slipped into his mouth. Lathering his chin all glossy, “Yeah like that-” His rugged palms stick to that perfect curvature of your spine. “-sit properly. Sit.”
You’re mumbling out something barely audible, cut off when he curls a firm hand around your throat and pulls you down onto his ravenous face. “Said- fucking sit-”
Sweltering hot breath strikes your geysering hole and makes you keen, your cracked eyelids open just barely enough to spot the way Gojo lands a shimmering glob of saliva right inside. And more when it only adds to the steadily-growing pool you were formulating on his pointed chin, his neck.
Whimpering when your weight settles on a purple-ish spot on his cheek where Sukuna had caught him off-guard.
“Watch this.” He’s moaning throatily, making such a show of letting your slippery slit streak out utter cascades all down his tongue. “Told ya- s’a fuckin’ heh- waterpark. Come ride my mouth, my girl- come- come.”
Your head tumbles back with a loud ‘fuck’ when his parched muscle bullies right past the rubbery ring of your entrance. And he takes the time curling his mazing tip into your slicked hole and streeeetching out a cute lil’ heart that makes you whine your poor heart out.
With a scoff at the way whoever walked by your clinic definitely knew what was happening, Gojo’s slapping the tender skin of your ass raw. “Yeah yeah, louder n’ maybe that ngh- bastard Sukuna will hear.”
Slowly yet sensually probing his tastebuds into every mushy ridge and corner embedded inside of you, he was roaming so deep. Raking a thorough grip on your right ass cheek to gyrate your sodden cunt rougher.
Fucking you wiiildly with his tongue - so wide. Fast.
He was impatient.
“Y’know with you sittin’ and- nghh-” You’re mewling once he tapes off that sentence with a pinch of your perked clit between his plush lips. Hollowing out those attractive cheeks to tug n’ tug until you’re sobbing. “-and- and squirming in the seats tonight- this was alllll I could think about?”
He spits back a loaded wad of drool that slides away back down to your flooded hole, pushing the webbed mess right back with the fat crown of his thumb. “Couldn’t wait-”
“Ngh- Toru—” You’re recanting like your own personal mantra, the crackles in your voice following every flop of his textured tongue in and out in and out in and out. “Keep going- hah! Feels so gooood–”
“Mhm, I know.” Gojo bites back cockily, chewing on the squishy inside of his cheek to stop himself from fucking moaning outloud at how your pussylips were just throbbing. The very same pulse you felt in your tight throat. “Had to stop myself from- ngh- making out with this lady right ‘ere all in front- in front of those cameras.”
“Y-you would-”
THWACK!
Oh, he’s snapping at the stretchy elastic of your panties to let the slimy fabric spank your precise pussymound.
Taking the filthy, filthy opportunity while you’re thrown into a dumbstruck daze to skim a few strong fingers underneath your stringy panties, Gojo pulls-pulls-pulls until it’s torn cleanly off of your hips. Freeing you completely bare, and gifting him with the perfect scented fabric for him to draw up to his nose and sniff–
Your jaw dangles widely agape, the same greedy oh! that your dewy hole makes when setting it aside to dip a finger sloppily inside your cunt.
Stocky and long. And yet you take Gojo’s length middle finger with great gulping clamps of your dripping pussy, so much so that you’re hearing a growling “Fuuuck, mama- m-made for me.” from underneath you.
You just made the strongest…stutter?
And you’re just pouring wet from the idea, but before you can stupidly open your mouth to taunt the big, bad fighter below you - Gojo squeezes his hold on your neck and draaaags you further down. Until you’re so pushed against his hot maw that you don’t know where you end and he begins.
He’s spitting, there’s another pop! as he adds another girthy finger to scissor apart your treacly slit. Rovering and rovering. Your voice shatters into numerous pieces so cutely, and he can feel the way your core pulsates frantically once he’s smudging the doughy tops of his digits nearer to your g-spot.
Hmmm, he’s snickering internally. Gojo’s swirlin’ his manicured fingernail right over your bulging magical spots with such ease. It was so cute how obvious you were.
“Got such a pretty cunt.” You’re arching desperately on and off his vibrato of words, the very same vibrations curdling that tightness in your stomach. “Such a pretty- pretty…”
“Sh-shiiit, Toru–” You hiccup, warbling shrills filling up Gojo’s ears like his favorite song. And it was. Almost as much as the plap! of a fresh wave of sap spraying a sheen across his face as he slithers in a third finger.
Sliding his pearly whites over your neglected clit, “Tha’s my name.” Gojo’s mouth hangs open with every slop, slapping alllll over the hood of your nub before trying to squish the very mound of his tongue in past your overstuffed entrance. Stimulating you. Driving you insane.
He’s swatting your ass a few more times until the mere touch of skin-on-skin sends your eyes sliiiding all the way to the back of your head. Gurgling – wet. “Say it a lil’ louder f’me now.”
“Toru–” you’re raking your hands down his pecs, nudging your plump clit right into the very tip of his button nose. And oh, you’re feeling the frigid whoosh! of air once Gojo leans his head in and takes a deeeep breath. Tugging gingerly on his unruly hair and he groans-
“Louder.”
“T-To-”
“No stutterin’.”
And you don’t know if you could comply with all his mean rules even if you could, the locked vice of his warm palm jostling your watery eyes until they were dead staring at him.
He was peering up at you through angelic, white lashes with such loving. Cerise lips swirling all over your beating clit, he could practically taste the rapid ba-dump–! of it coating his heated mouth.
Starting to crawl straightly up but you don’t even mean to. All he has to do is grasp your throat until all the air drains from your lungs and you’re held there. Solely by his monstrous strength.
Swallowing back the leaden lump that’s permanently branded on your throat, with a flex of broad arms you’re being lazily shoved sloppier and sloppier by each passing second. And as you’re resting your dribbling slit back on his sensual chin, a steamy cloud of Gojo’s giggles hit where you’re stretched the most tautly tight.
Blinking eyes flickering with primal need, your bleary vision is just filled with the heavenly sight of him him him. Urging your rickety knees to knobble faster, he murmurs into your folds. “Say it.”
“P-please.” The outdated bed sings as you’re shivering. Shaking. And no amount of cute gasps that you intake is enough to stop your heart from racing. “Toru. Please l-let me ngh- cum.”
“Hmmmm. Good enough.” He’s leering mean-spiritedly up at you, that very same wicked curve of his lips glued to your pretty clit. Gojo lets off a strained growl that almost makes you shy – desperate. “Now…you’re gonna squirt f’me, mama.”
Another hit thud! of hits at your g-spot, and another few steps closer to your inevitable high. So close, in fact, that you’re not even realizing what Gojo’d uttered until he lolls out his fat tongue like he was drunken, silvery slabs of spit hitting your inner thighs. “Spit.”
Fuck- the very same moment your glittery cobweb of saliva is hitting his sizzling tastebuds, you’re hitting your high. Well, more like crashing headfirst into it.
And Gojo was right, the way you squirted your brain-shattered release was in the most vapid spurts of juices. Spraying out of you like a fountain, sploshing all over the top of his face n’ gravitating down to his chin. “Squirt on my face- yeahyeah fuck, squirt on my face.”
One that he loooooves. Oh, how he loves it. Loves you.
“So sweet- fuck…fuck, always the fuckin’ sweetest, my girl.” His guttural syllables ring out and make your eyes immediately flap helplessly shut. Toes curling, “Thank you- was so fuckin’ thirsty after that fight. Thank you.”
Lets his swollen lips slip open to drink up the honeyed squirts in big, deep sluuuuurps–! Scraping near your g-spot to draw out more and more of those pooling splotches all over his face. Gojo knots his fingers ‘round your throat and shoves your pussy to cling to his mouth ruthlessly. You’re watching through the white-hot stars behind your lids at how obviously his prominent Adam’s apple bumps and propels.
Fuck.
Glossy layers of slick stick to your folds like a candied apple, and every lil’ suck Gojo leaves drives you craaazy. Soon enough, your thighs are twitching right on top of him, “Please, Toru–”
“Mmmm–?” He’s panting, positively blistered in sweat at this point. And even when he’s catching his eyes with yours, his own look…cloudy. Feral. Murmuring something like ‘round one’ into your outer pussy.
“Want you in me–” You’re babbling out the only few sets of words you know will work to draw him away from the sweet, sweet dessert he’s found between your legs. And you’re watching with bated breath as Gojo takes a sloppy second to consider, still nibbling his canines on your sensitive clit.
Huffing n’ puffing cutely, you’re reeling your sweet cunt back– only for Gojo to squeeze his hold around your neck and pull-
“Just one more-” He’s contaminating the heady clinic air with repeated saccharine, saturated squelches after every peck upon peck. Like it hurt to part with your pussy - it always did, n’ Gojo made sure to leave her more than enough goodbye kisses.
“One more-” Stringy oodles of slick washing over his face, “One- one more.” Again. Just another French kiss. “One…” And again.
And again and again until you’re dipping your hands through his mussed-up bangs of cloudy white and tugging, all that it takes for Gojo’s achingly hard cock to twitch.
“O-oh.” His voice breaks so many multiple octaves higher as he pulls away with a final - final - slimy graze of his stinging lips. Head lazing in an angle downwards, as if he’d just noticed the painful, rock-hard bulge tenting his too-tight boxing shorts.
And Gojo’s cerulean eyes widen, flitting from the slushy wet spot soaked through his dark pants, to the way your glistening hole was winking down at him. Needily - as if to beg.
The middle of your bowed spine tingles with the remnants of your orgasm as soon as Gojo opens his mouth to growl. Low. Rasping.
Depraved.
“On- on my cock now, mama.” He’s tracing his hands admiringly over your tummy, the edge of his thick thumb drawing a long line right across the middle and your teary slit - measuring you. Where he’d already memorized the sweet lil’ targets he’d be fucking deeeep inside. Could never forget. Gojo nudges his straight nosebridge between your dewy folds once more, “Gotta really celebrate w’my heh- lady here tonight.”
And as you’re scrambling on your still-tottering knees to slide yourself down his Adonis-like body, he scoffs.
With a blunt roll of his eyes, Gojo’s cupping the curve of your slam-driven ass and manhandling you easily. Trawling your weepy pussy down, down, down over every one of the calloused scars on his front, every one of his bumpy abs - you counted eight - to sit all prettily beneath the snug waistline of his shorts.
Gojo spies up at you through his chalky bangs, plastered to his forehead with perspiration until you’re barely making his greedy stare out. Eyes half-hooded, pupils darkly dilated until you couldn’t even see those irises.
It’s then - only then - that you realize just how ruined he looked.
With that blossoming injury from tonight’s match across his cheek, burnished and purple - though, not even half as bright as the flush that coated his pretty features.
All red and raw. You were practically basking in the scalding heat that radiated off of him, melting the glassy sheen of slick that dripped off of him in globules, so fucking wet.
And yet, Gojo only ever wanted more. Kissing you with his cutely pink lips, he heaves in great panting gusts. “Take- heh-” Massive, twitchy hands fall on your own and guide them to his thick hem, a viscous gumdrop of your sap trickles from the point of his nose. “Take ‘em off f’me, mama. Take a goood long look f’me~”
“So bossy.”
“Mmm— I’ll be fuckin’ that rude mouth shut soon.”
Gojo sits obediently manspread as you fumble your eager fingertips underneath his shorts and pull–
The first thing you see is a curly tuft of his white happy trail, glimmering and drenched through with his own buttery precum.
And the second thing you see…fuck. He’s never been harder.
Swollen n’ aching. Gojo’s furiously reddened mushroom tip dribbles out a constant stream of syrupy pre, hitting your hands with a loud splash! And not just that– he was spilling out a murked milky few dewdrops as if eating you out had him on the very verge of cumming.
He’s sprawling his swole, veined arms behind his head, letting you gawk and ogle as you please.
And how could you not?
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how pretty Gojo and his erect cock was. Damn past ten inches, it’s as if he grows every time you see him for a post-match ritual.
And so does his rosy cockhead, the exact same shade of pink as his burning cheeks. So wide that your slippery hole clenches ‘round nothing at the sight. All bloated and over-decorated with so many lightning bolted veins, you’re feeling your mouth water at the mere notion of tasting him–
“Ah ah-” He tuts, pulling you away as he once more cradles your throat softly in one hand.
You pout, “B-but…”
Nodding sloooowly so you understand, “Wanna fuck this pretty pussy. Ride me like a hah- good girl now, m’kay?”
Oh, he was so evil. He knew exactly how that lil’ nickname would have your mind pitching into a state of carnal frenzy.
The desire purely evident on your gorgeous face as you’re toppling your capped knees on either side of his firm, toned waist.
One masculine hand wrapping around his bulky hilt - aligning it all ready to smooch your pretty pussy - he sliiiides his heavy head to sandwich between your bloated folds. Rocking upwards into a teasing little back n’ forth that leaves his rigid head swatting on your clit. Pap! Pap! Pap!
“Ready–?” Gojo drawls out in husked syllables, licking his lips to lap up any remnant of you. Wordless, the only thing you can manage out right now is a shaken nod.
Before it feels like you’re being split apart.
You’re whining when your hole stretches out with a rowdy sluuuurp–! just the thickened tip of his length popping in past your entrance. And he’s so fat, you could feel every solid ba-dump–! of his prominent veins tugging your cunt apart.
“Oh, f-fuck, jus’ look at you.” He’s spitting through gleaming clenched teeth, words hitting you straight into your saccharine sweet pussy. Biting down on his pouty bottom lip, “Just ngh- look at you takin’ me- taking that biiig stretch, fuck.”
Your glassy eyes roll all the way back at the way he wasn’t even halfway inside yet already made you feel so dizzy. Stumbling flailingly into his arms, “Wanna kiss, Toru–”
“S’so cute when you’re all cockdrunk” Gojo whispers as he leaves a stinging spank on your ass, the shock of the force makin’ you swerve your hips deeper down his thick shaft.
But he doesn’t kiss you - not yet. Instead, he’s chuckling deeply at your adorable irritation, sharp hips bucking off the mattress just so that he could fit himself inside. Up. Up. Up. Probing and probing his pulsing crowned tip over and over to ease inside a few more solid inches.
“T-Tooooruuuu–”
“Mhm–” He places a warm palm faced open on your tummy, searching for that familiar bump where he’d be ruining you all inside. Where his rounded head would be prying apart your gum-like walls in urgent impales. “I’ll kiss you if ya say ‘biiig stretch’ f’me, my girl.”
You’re squirming your hips impatiently, only to be locked down with only one of Gojo’s hands. Honestly, what did you think going against a fighting champion? “B-big-”
“Nuh uh.” Bearing you with a wild, animalistic smile that makes you shudder. All wide and toothy. He’s rudely slapping you once more - this time on your dripping cunt. Quivering. “Say it. Biiig stretch, mama.”
“B-big-” You wail out whimpers just as soon as your little mistake leaves Gojo’s swollen shaft inching out of your hole, a warning. Already making you feel so empty inside- “Fuck! Big- biiig- stretch mmpf-”
Before you can register it, a hand clawed into your throat pulls you to crash your lips onto Gojo’s soft ones - muffling the absolute trill you’re letting off when he finally bottoms out with one big push. Finally.
“Now m’kissing you here, too–” he has the audacity to flush.
His sensual mushroom tip scrapes a swiveling line allll down your gooey walls, swirling ‘round and ‘round until he’s following the map directly to your g-spot. Giving her a good long snog, you’re curling your toes at the swashing waves of pre that dribble out of him and straight onto that tender orifice.
You’re so full that your mouth overspills with generous helpings of drool, slobbering right onto the valley between his pecs where you found yourself laid.
The slick velvety walls of your cunt scoop him up gladly, and Gojo finds himself wearing such a dopey smile at the instinctual way your gummy walls clench. “Hmm– have I ever told ya how much I ngh- love you?”
And maybe it was the way his thick cock was reaching you everywhere, maybe it was the way Gojo stared at you with heart eyes. It could’ve been anything and everything - you simply found yourself cumming.
Right then and there, with only a few vulgar bludgeons of his merciless cock.
And Gojo?
Gojo looks like he’s in heaven.
Startling out a slight puff of laughter while he careens his hips back to fuck you through your sudden high, and you can feel the way he pinpricks your insides with every thrust. Feel the way he strikes right at your most favorite spots - precisely.
“Already? I really am winnin’ tonight- heh. Already won Round 2, too.”
Round 2? What is he…oh.
Oh, shit.
He’s talking about how many times he’s made you cum.
The sounds of his raspy praises make your ears buzz, head throwing backwards when you start to arch your back and rut yourself, attempting to meet his vicious pace. To run.
“Fuh-fuuuuck” You’re biting your tongue to try and fight back those pathetic pitches and mewls seeping from your lips. And all it takes is a slamming whack into your cervix to render that useless. “Fuck me- fuckmefuckme, Toooru–!”
“Now now,” he’s tutting, and oh you can feel your tummy lurch with anticipation at that dark tonality of his. Or maybe that was just the feral twitch of his battering tip.
Through eyes saturated with a film of fat droplets of tears, you’re glancing down at the way your hips are suddenly pinned to his toned pelvis. Unmoving. With just his steady grip of your throat. “Runnin’s against the rules, mama.”
And suddenly, you’re moved so fast your cottony brain begins to wonder if maybe you’ve teleported.
You’re whimpering as your fatigued back ends up laid over the crescent curves of his pectorals, his front digging into your mounds of flesh as Gojo pulls your clammy knees back back back back. Into a full nelson so mean that you don’t even realize he’s positioned his cock until he sinks allll the way back in–
“Atttta girl. Look at youuu–” His hoarse pants sizzle the tender lobes of your ear after every unapologetic pound you’re being graced with. You gawp at the full-length mirror that was right adjacent to the patient bed, shit- you forgot that was even there.
And now that you’d taken a glimpse at the lecherous scene, you couldn’t look away.
Gojo was so staggering. Swole muscles bending you pliably, the only thing holding you upright enough so that your cross-eyed stare could lock with your fucked-out reflection in the mirror.
Your dizzy pupils circling all over comically the more n’ more he jackhammered away. Vehemently.
The girth of his shaft was so big that your head lolls stupidly back into the planes of his collarbones, “Takin’ care of ya favorite fighter.”
Five exact circumferences of his fingertips sway over to that large, cylindrical outline being oh-so-thoroughly fucked into you. A tummy bulge that he thumbs over, that mushroomy globular end.
“Takin’ c-care of me alllll ngh-” He massages down on that cute lil’ bump going back and forth back and forth back and forth. Driving himself just as crazy as he was with you. Groaning, “-here.”
And Gojo’s body was still aching from the aftereffects of his fight, he was still sore in places with soon-to-be bruises. Yet, he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t even slow down.
Hard and fast.
His crownhead an angry red that prodded your deepest, most tender insides. Pushing and pushing and pushing. So wide that both you and the rickety bed were singing with whimpers after every delving drag of his vein-covered length.
Strokes vulgar. Alllll the way from the very strawberry divot in the middle of his globular tip, to the massive circumference of his hefty base. And even though every pricking whack into your cervix was hard, Gojo took his lazy time pulling back out to make sure you felt every bump and bolt of his swollen veins scraping down your insides.
“Watch this.”
“Wh-what- oh.”
You’re peering through the smoggy mirror at the way the strongest himself rovers up his big, beefy right arm to wrap neatly ‘round your neck. His hard-earned biceps bulging against your throat and blocking off your airway sexily.
Watching yourself, you swear you could count every vein thumping down his forearm, every flex of his rippling muscles caging against your neck. Oh…you only got wetter.
“Saw you lookin’ at me. Could tell how much ya- haaah- liked this, mama.” Gojo titters, words sloppy and his strokes even sloppier. “Almost drenched the heh- seat didn’tya? Watching me? Ohhh you like this don’tcha? W’my big arms puttin’ you in a ngh- big headlock?”
Babbling. Gojo himself was drooling, a thin trickle of spittle that befell with every passing second he watched your sloppy slit swallow his inches.
Yearning for more.
Begging for more.
You half-couldn’t believe that was you with your face tear-streaked and oh-so-ruined in the reflection. And once you feel that familiar fluttering from your pussy, you’re slithering down a hand between your legs–
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He was breathless.
It was so easy for Gojo to trap both your unsteady wrists within only one of his, gruffly bringing you back into your cute headlock whilst pinning them so you could struggle allll you want. But he wasn’t letting up.
Clinging onto your swiveling with one hand, and keeping you manhandled with the other. He bucks his hips so your curved spine is rubbed all down with his sweat-glossed abs, he knew how weak you were for it.
Smearing the stocky end of his thumb over your needy clit, “Not when ya have me, mama.” He breathes next to your ear, so close. Drawing circles. Hearts. His name. Mindlessly lapping away the pearls of tears running down your face, “Not when your d-dear ngh- ‘Toru’s’ here.”
And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words scratching a carnal desire set inside of you.
“Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming- ngh!” Your previous orgasms had already taken so much out of you that it was all you could to will yourself not to pass out right now and here.
“Yeah? Yeah? Go on- I- ngh- win- round three- heh.”
Sharp stings of pleasure buzzing all the way from your throbbing pussy to your empty head, you draaag your nails all over his sturdy forearms. Your body slicks over with sweltering perspiration, glissading you smoothly up n’ down Gojo’s sculptured body.
Gojo jostles you in his headlock to stare deeply into your eyes while he drags out your high, counting every filthy spank he was honing out. It’s not too far into your overstimulated high before his creamy tip showers your drenched insides with sprays of buttery cum.
You could hear yourself mumbling out faint nonsense with every ropey smack you felt pumped inside you, and it was as if Gojo was orgasming harder than he had his entire life.
Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t even know if he could.
And it was so weighty, too.
You could feel the soppy splosh of his sap being bubbled all up inside you, every swab of Gojo’s leaking cockhead frothing it even deeper inside. You’re swearing the bumpy outline of your tummy bulge was only being cumflated, feeling like he was glueing your very walls together.
Naturally, a few slicked gumdrops of cum ooze their way out between your teary slit. His hips jolt at the primal sight, thick seed dribbling out of you like frosting, formulating so many rings upon rings that Gojo just can’t help but admire and muse as his most favorite ones.
Shit, with a humid pop! he’s inching out just to watch the butter-covered sheen that stuck to his red shaft.
Hooded, his sapphire gaze rips away from your reflection to narrow down at you. At the way your ancient patient bed was now completely destroyed; headboard split, standing on only three feeble legs.
“Broke the bed, heh- tha’s a KO, my girl.” Gojo lets go of his headlock on you, nuzzling your cheek with his sweat-lacquered forehead whilst you still attempt to catch your breath. “Mmmm– really do love you, y’know- the fuckin’ b-best prize I could ever have.”
“I love you too–” You find your cartoonishly dazed smile directed up at him. “-Six Eyes.”
With a soft groan, he twiddles his thumb over to toy with the sticky seconds of his seed pouring out of you. Lazily.
Letting it scoop onto his fingerpads, shoving it back between your slippy lips. Repeatedly even painting a languid heart with it over your tummy bulge- before skidding the salted cream between your lips.
With a fat few fingers stuffed into your dampening maw, overflowing with glutinous saliva, you’re letting your eyes stray back to the reflection in the mirror. Blinking back your vision-
“Holy shit.” You’re gaping - at everything from the way that Gojo Satoru had seemed to gain more red, red scratches and bruises all over his arms, back, and pecs from you than in an actual fight, to the way he seemed utterly content about it. “T-Toru, I gave you more marks than Sukuna did during the Shinjuku Showdown…”
“I know.”
.
.
.
“Aaaand welcome back, folks! To the Shinjuku Showdown 2.0!”
You wince, Haibara’s commentating voice would never grow any less booming no matter how many times you sat here. Front row for yet another one of Gojo’s famed fights.
Though, you squirm in your seat, you wished he could get here sooner.
“Requested by our very own King of Curses- he’s quite a sore loser you see- oh, my mistake, Mr. Sukuna, sir. You are the underground’s most honorable fighter, of course of course.”
Ryomen Sukuna scowls even as the crows roar and yell rambunctiously around him, eyes falling on you - for the briefest, tensest second - before he tears away. Pacing around the barren ring like a tiger prowling for his prey.
Only, said prey wasn’t going down without making sure that Sukuna knew the true hierarchy here.
“FINALLY! Hereee we have our monster of Japan, Six Eyes, making his long-awaited entrance tonight! Ohhh place your bets, ladies and gentlemen, tonight is going to be goooood!”
When Gojo Satoru entered the ring, everyone knew. Everyone held their breath.
It never got old seeing his generously over six-foot figure loom menacingly towards the ring, draped in a dark blue robe of crushed velvet. Which just-so-happened to be the exact color of your matching lingerie tonight…
Usual gloves on hand, a tiny, plastic remote in hand.
You’re shivering as he twiddles it over deftly, pulling down the hiked-up hem of your nurse’s outfit. Just praying that nobody could hear the bzzz–! of that hot-pink bullet vibrator lodged inside your sloppy pussy.
Meant to be there for the entire fight.
The cutting stadium air was so tautly-pulled that you could hear every resounding thud! of his powerful footsteps as Haibara rattles off Sukuna’s introduction. Jumping swiftly and athletically over the ropes of the ring.
“And in THIS corner, we have Six Eyes, The Strongest. Some fear to speak his name. Some think he isn’t human. With a winning streak ever since he arrived here, with so many knockouts that it’s said they created a new medical term for it. Challenge him and you challenge death. The man. The myth. The nightmare-”
Then Gojo straightens-
“-a monster that can never be tamed!”
-and he lets his robe fall.
All red, angry patterns of scratches on full display for the countless rabid photographers and watchers to gawk at. Down his back, down his arms, down his pecs.
Everywhere and anywhere for the eye to see, and to see Gojo- Six Eyes of all people to be so thoroughly claimed. As if he was thrown to the wolves - someone put a hand on him?
Oh, you could hear the reporters stumbling over their questions as they screamed for answers and relationship reveals.
Though, all of them were answered once he turns straight to you. Miniscule remote calibrated to the very maximum before Gojo fucking throws it somewhere into the ringside. Even through his muzzle, you could tell he was grinning as you gasped at the lecherous vibrations pulsating to your g-spot.
Over and over whilst media personnel - realizing your connection to the most dangerous underground fighter in all of Japan - jostled you for more juicy details. Fuck- everyone was going to know about this. Everyone.
Gojo turns back to a fuming Sukuna with a quirk of his ivory brow.
“The monster has- has been tamed! Let the fight begin!”
A/N. FAWK I NEED HIM. Was this slightly inspired by all the boxing talk going on in my blog? Mayhaps.
⚠ — (Non-exhaustive, full cw policy here): Down horrendous Hyunjin agenda™, sex with other people present in the room, objectification, getting tattooed during questionable activities (m), yandere undertones, recreational drug use, strong language, explicit sexual content.
➥ You never take it seriously when your die-hard fan crassly hits on you after every show, but when you decide to indulge his relentless catcalling for once, things take a wild turn.
*a/n: Back on my Derangedjin bullshit because an-dom. Enjoy~
The energy in the palm-sized venue was fucking nuclear.
The very last song of the setlist. Changbin was having a physical altercation with his drum set, his fast-paced double kicks morphing the front of the stage into a miniature mosh pit. Jisung was belting notes so high that all the bottles at the bar were threatening to explode. You and Chris were about to merge into a single entity, borderline straddling each other’s legs as you murdered that outro solo to the violent strums of his Gibson.
And it seemed to excite someone in the audience almost to the point of an orgasm.
“FUCKING STEP ON ME!!!”
The scream was so loud that you heard it even through the deafening noise, and it cracked you the fuck up in the middle of the song.
It was the guy who came to every single one of your shows without fail. Always clad in blacks, always right by your feet no matter which side of the stage you were on, entirely swept up in the frenzy of your anarchy anthems, running so hot and drenched in sweat as if he came out of a steamy shower five minutes ago. You didn’t understand why he kept wearing that massive leather jacket with chains everywhere; he was going to rip it off himself ten seconds into the first song anyway.
It wouldn’t be right to call him just a fan at this point; he was more like a hypeman working for free. With every song, he would galvanize the crowd into such an uproar that everyone passing by the club would be consumed by their curiosity, dying to know just what the hell was happening inside. Those were the nights Seungmin’s capitalist ass would triple the drink prices and proudly bounce people with an excessively smug “We’re at capacity.”
“Thank you for coming out tonight. You guys are fucking amazing!”
Once Jisung concluded the show, you threw your pick at the audience to cause small-scale mayhem, then headed backstage for some much-needed unwinding, though something else had arrived in the green room before you did. Two bottles of obscenely expensive champagne and a little note were waiting for you among half-finished glasses, a few white lines, and tiny dunes of weed.
I just know this is what you taste like.
You were wonderful tonight, beautiful.
H.
“Your fanboy is at it again,” Changbin slapped a shit-eating grin on his face while lighting up the massive joint between his lips. “Just let the poor guy hit that one time so he doesn’t choke on his own drool.”
“Do I look like I hand out pussy for those in need?” you stared daggers at him.
“My hardest orgasms were with die-hard fans. They let you do pretty much anything. I say go for it,” Jisung declared, successfully making a compelling case. “Bro ripped his tank while surfing the crowd, and half the room came just by looking at his body. Even I got a semi, like, holy fuck.”
“Nah, I know this kind. They just collect stage pussy,” you poured four flutes’ worth of champagne into a comically large coffee mug. “You know that insane thing where fans expect the artists they like to stay single? I expect the same thing, too. If you stan me, you stan me, motherfucker. None of that multifandom shit.”
“Congratulations, you just unlocked a brand-new level of possessiveness, and that’s coming from me,” Chris deadpanned, grabbing the champagne from you to directly chug it from the bottle.
“We go on stage to feel like gods, and you’re surprised I want worshippers?” you arched a brow. “Fuck, we’re out of rolling paper. I’ll be right back.”
You went back out into the crowd and scanned the area to spot Seungmin. He was making a complete show of mixing drinks for the two girls before him, coincidentally the hottest ones in the club, most likely trying to chat his way up to a threesome under the guise of customer service. As soon as you made it to the bar, however, an all-too-familiar voice reached your ears before you could catch your plug’s attention.
“Just tell me what I gotta do to eat your pussy. I’m dying over here!”
Right on schedule.
Your resident fanboy and his entourage were high as kites, the space before them stacked with hard liquor and all kinds of questionable substances. He did this after every concert like clockwork, so much so that you knew the choreography of your little dance by heart by now. He would say some unhinged shit, you would snort in amusement, maybe even spare a chuckle if the catcall of the day was deranged enough, but that was it. Your semi-parasocial interactions never went past a loud whistle and thirst comments as you walked by.
You decided to choose violence tonight.
“Blow him,” you pointed at Seungmin.
Lips parted in surprise, he turned to his sidekicks to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating, in utter disbelief that you actually answered him for once. Nevertheless, he was quick to bounce back, gesturing Seungmin to come closer like he was about to gladly add one more zero to his tab.
“How do you wanna do this, Min?” he leaned into the bar. “Do you want me to get back there, or…?”
You burst out laughing, and despite having zero cracks on his sultry poker face, you could still see something in his eyes. A bit dangerous, like the fire you knew you shouldn’t be playing with. Your feet moved on their own, carrying you towards him, and each step you took fanned those flames a bit more.
“Fucking scram,” he ordered the small crowd around him in what he thought was an inaudible volume.
“Hey there, crazy dude,” you rested your elbow on the bar counter.
“You finally noticed me,” he flashed the most satisfied smirk.
“Noticed you?” you contorted your face. “Do we have a senpai situation going on here?”
“No, but if you didn’t pay attention to me any longer, I was about to enter yandere simulator territory.”
Due to the untimely demise of his tank, he was currently covered with the infamous leather jacket from the waist up. Well, covered would be an overstatement since the zipper was pulled all the way down, perfectly framing his bare torso. He reached inside his jacket to fish for something, and you suspected he might have been carrying that around for a questionably long period of time.
You know, just in case.
“Can I get an autograph?” he handed you a Sharpie.
“Do you have any merch on you?”
“Yes.”
He sat upright on the stool and flashed his ri–di–cu–lous–ly stunning physique so you could properly gawk at it.
“Sign my abs.”
“WHAT?” you wheezed your lungs out.
“Can you think of any merchandise better than this?” he made his point, entirely serious. “Sign my abs. I’m gonna get it tattooed.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“What was your first clue?”
You took the marker from him and checked him out from head to toe. Whenever you saw him in the audience, he was just a face in a sea of darkness, though a noticeably handsome one, but if you knew it was attached to this, you would have paid attention to him a lot sooner.
“You know,” you placed a finger on his chest, dragging it down to his abdomen excruciatingly slowly. “I think I’d rather lick stuff off of these than sign it.”
Shoot him with a fucking horse tranquilizer, why don’t you?
He thickly swallowed, his throat drying up at record speed. Maybe he had gotten a bit too high, and the excess adrenaline was making him hallucinate things.
And if that was really the case, he would deplete his entire stash right now just so he would never ever come down.
“Do whatever you want to me,” he spoke in a single breath, staring at your lips like he was hypnotized, “but I’m still gonna need that autograph.”
“What for?”
“How else am I gonna forge our marriage certificate?”
“You know it’s not my actual signature, right?”
“Who cares? I’ll argue you changed it after you took my last name.”
He was allegedly joking, but it was one of those “HAHA, just kidding. Unless…?” ones. He really looked like he would come with you if you asked him to go to a 24/7 chapel right now.
You indulged his request, but instead of his abs, you signed the left side of his chest. As you moved the pen on his firm skin, you could feel how rabid his heart was under your touch, even though it was supposed to be five beats per second for how mellowed out he was.
“There,” you put the cap back on, moving even closer with the excuse to put the pen back into his pocket. “Now you can get it properly tattooed.”
“Couldn’t ask for a better location,” he heaved a deep sigh.
You were so close to each other. From such proximity, the heat exuding from his body felt like a desert storm, and despite the grassy scent of weed pervading the entire room, he smelled so good that your mind was getting infested with the urge to run your tongue on his neck just to taste it.
“Mind if I shotgun you?” he reached for his joint.
You slowly nodded.
He emptied his lungs and took the longest drag you saw anyone take, almost smoking the whole thing in a single breath, then gently pulled you in from your chin. You wondered if heart palpitations were somehow contagious because the closer he leaned in, the faster your pulse was climbing. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering close as he breathed your high into your lungs, so damn slowly to complete the seconds of being this close to you into a full minute.
An itch was begging to be scratched inside your head.
There was nothing stopping you from moving just one inch further. Nothing keeping you from frying this guy’s brain completely. He had earned a bit of fanservice credit for his relentless dedication to you, no?
You suddenly pressed your lips against his, and that full-body shiver he was possessed by was everything.
He slipped his tongue in your mouth almost instantly, swirling it around yours in such a familiar choreography as if you’d been kissing each other for years. You threw your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist, pondering whether you should make him beg you or have him finger you right here for everyone to watch. Or maybe there was a secret third option.
When you finally pulled away, you were stupidly smiling at each other, high as hell on the kiss more than the weed.
“Bet I taste better than the champagne, huh?” you smirked contently.
“By a landslide,” he acknowledged.
“What are you doing at a trashy club like this every damn week?” you asked, your brows knit together.
“I don’t have a choice,” he shrugged. “You only play at the trashy club.”
“You drink Macallan. This jacket is fucking Versace. Where you belong is one of those cigar lounges downtown,” you observed. “What do you even do for a living?”
“Why? Gonna look into my credit score?”
“If we’re getting fake-married, I wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”
He laughed but didn’t answer, and unfortunately for you, you might be getting more and more intrigued by the mystery man.
“This is gonna sound a bit too forward, but,” he segued into an offer, barely stopping himself from melting into a puddle while moving the stray locks away from your face, “care to join me in the back room?”
“You know about the back room?” you asked with a smile.
“Considering the hefty tabs I regularly pick up, I technically co-own the damn place,” he derisively chuckled. “Figured we should… consummate our marriage.”
You laughed but didn’t answer. Your hands on his collar, you slowly peeled him off the stool he was perched on, then led the way to the back.
After going through a bunch of claustrophobic corridors hand-in-hand, you finally reached the heavy iron door. You slid it open with a jarring rattle, the dim red lights illuminating the place beckoning you to come in. There was a free-for-all already in progress inside, thick smoke floating in the air, naked bodies tangled into each other on what looked like opium den beds. You spotted your bandmates scattered around the room, too engrossed in their own post-show rituals to notice your arrival. Chris getting his dick sucked. Changbin with a bombshell bouncing on his cock. Jisung dining on some girl’s cunt. And a whole new set of strangers you had never seen before as the backdrop of this cave of sin. Touching. Kissing. Fucking.
And everything in between.
You found yourselves a corner and sat down. Your guest was being needlessly polite, lighting up your joint for you and doing a terrific job hiding how much he was drooling over you. His courteous antics when there was an active orgy going on right before you were amusing, to say the least.
But then you noticed something strange.
“Your usual, Hyunjin,” Seungmin put down a glass of scotch, a small bowl of fruit, and a glass of wine on the miniature table before you. “And yours, beautiful.”
Half the room was staring in your direction, but they weren’t looking at you. They were looking at the man next to you the way starving hyenas would look at their prey.
Your instincts suddenly went into overdrive.
You climbed on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck as if to slap a label on him that said ‘This one’s bespoke to me.’
“Hyunjin,” you ran your fingers through his soft locks. “So that’s your name, crazy dude.”
“And now you can moan it,” he lovingly brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers, his other arm hugging your waist.
He examined every single detail on your face, sighing longingly. He didn’t kiss you, but he seemed to be doing a lot more than kissing in his mind, sinking his teeth into his lips as his fingers slid down to your neck. Then your collarbones. Then your chest. He didn’t know shit about you, but he looked so enamored with you. He didn’t give a fuck about the porn playing before his eyes and instead had complete tunnel vision on you.
What the hell was wrong with this man?
You turned to your left to check the room’s pulse, and you could see the envy blaring out of people’s eyes. They all wanted him and were trying to choke you to death through Jedi mind tricks for blocking the tantalizing view.
“Shh, look at me,” he gently held your chin and turned you to himself. “Only me.”
What the hell was wrong with you for enjoying it this fucking much?
“I’ve seen a few hardcore fans to date, but no one as persistent as you,” you plucked a grape from the bowl and fed it to him like a concubine entertaining her king. “Just why are you this obsessed with me?”
“You just don’t give a fuck, and I find that very attractive,” he answered, stealing a subtle lick from your fingers as he bit on the fruit. “What’s wrong with that?”
“So my fishnets got nothing to do with it?”
He looked down at the stockings wrapping your thighs like the perfect Christmas gift for him. His breathing turned heavier while softly caressing your legs, his jaw slightly clenched like he was trying to suppress something.
“Watching you play is straight up porn to me. I can’t stay soft when you do your solos,” he replied. “I mean, I can’t deny that there is a certain image that pops into my head when I jerk off, no disrespect.”
“Which one?”
“The Fender photoshoot. If I ever see you lick a fretboard like that for real, I’ll fucking cum on the spot,” he responded a bit too candidly. “It’s two of my biggest turn ons in one.”
“Which would be?”
“You and a custom-built Strat.”
“No shit. You play?” you smiled at him, pleasantly surprised.
“Your toes would curl if you saw what I can do with a guitar.”
“I’d rather have you do other things to make my toes curl.”
You hit a long drag from your joint and leaned into his lips, shotgunning him this time. He was melting under you, body going limp with each inhale, but something on your hips was rock hard.
“Then the million-dollar question,” you put out the cigarette and started playing with his hair. “Who else are you fanboying this hard over?”
“No one.”
“You seriously expect me to believe that?”
“Would the shrine I have of you be enough evidence of my dedication?”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have one,” you scoffed, your lazy chuckle laced with pure disdain.
He pulled out his phone and showed you a picture. It was taken at nighttime in what you assumed to be his bedroom. The photo was showing his illuminated nightstand with the aforementioned Fender picture framed, you all naked with just the guitar censoring your body as the focal point, and several guitar picks placed in front of it with OCD-like neatness. You recognized each one of those as the ones you threw at the audience during various shows thanks to their distinct colors.
“I’ll have you know I pray to this every night,” he pulled something metallic from his inner pocket and flashed it. The very pick you flung from the stage tonight.
Seriously?
“What are you praying for?”
“To kiss these,” he brushed his thumb on your lips.
“Just kiss?”
He briefly averted his eyes with a smile, licking his lips at whatever he was imagining in his head.
“It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to reveal the full scope.”
“Get that tattooed for real first,” you ran your fingers on your autograph. “Then you can treat me like your personal pornstar.”
“Is that your only condition?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “If I get it tattooed, you’ll let me…?”
“If you have the balls to actually do it, yes,” you confirmed.
He pulled out his phone again and called a number, not even searching for it in his contact list as if he had it on speed dial.
“Hey, I need you at 97 Park Boulevard within ten minutes,” he looked right into your soul while talking. “Bring your gear.”
He hung up the phone, and you just stared at him in shock. Did he just…? Call a tattoo artist here? Like he was ordering pizza?
What an insane man. What an insane you because why the fuck were you enjoying this so much?
“You are fucking crazy,” you iterated your first impression of him.
“What was your first clue?”
“What if I’m crazier?”
He kissed your hand almost gallantly, like a lover of many many years would do, the contentment of his smile endlessly titillating to witness.
“God, I fucking hope you are,” he held your chin and pulled you close.
The kiss quickly deepened, turning a bit more ferocious this time with bites on lips and too much groping. You slipped your hand inside his jacket and cascaded it off his shoulders, groaning at the sight of his nakedness. Maybe Jisung was right because just looking at him made you salivate, and you felt like you had a wish-granting genie at your disposal.
If you played your cards right, tonight could be one for the books.
When you finally managed to pull away from each other, Hyunjin spotted his person of interest by the door and raised his hand to signal his location. The tatted-up guy slammed his hand into his friend’s as if they were at a frat reunion instead of an orgy.
“Chase, this is the god I worship,” Hyunjin introduced you. “I need her in a… strategic position for this. Hope it’s not a problem.”
“Suit yourself. What are we getting today?”
“Something simple, already stenciled,” he showed his chest. “Ink this, and ink it deep.”
Nah.
You kept waiting for either of them to say sike, or ask you if you were going to stop them, but nothing was happening. Chase had his ink ready, and Hyunjin was getting comfortable with one arm tucked under his nape.
“You’re seriously going through with this?” you asked, still suspicious.
“Did you have doubts?”
“Kinda, yeah,” you confessed. “What strategic position am I supposed to be in?”
“Yeah, about that…” he grabbed your wrist and yanked you close. “You’re gonna sit on my face until this is done.”
“What?!”
“It’s a win-win,” he smiled devilishly. “I get the comfort, you get the pleasure. Maybe even cum.”
“You’re really crazy,” you broke into hysterical laughter, “and the tattoo was my first clue.”
You straddled his face, and Hyunjin’s breathing started getting labored. All he did was gawk at your underwear under your skirt, gulping at the sight of the wet trail, but when you put his hand on the fabric, he thought he was about to disintegrate into his atoms.
“Rip it off,” you ordered him firmly.
And rip it off he did.
Your pussy was staring at him, dripping wet, and he could choke on his own drool at this rate. He was repeatedly whispering “Thank you” against your cunt, and it was making your clit buzz harder than the tattoo gun.
“If I cum, just ignore it,” he addressed Chase, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them down to make you sit lower.
Then he covered his mouth on your pussy, and you almost passed out.
You didn’t know what the correct feeling was. He was rabidly munching on your clit like you were oozing lidocaine, but his hands were lovingly caressing you. You found a steady rhythm riding his tongue, your body invaded by a surge of pleasure, but he kept interrupting it with kisses on your pussy, diabolically laughing every time you groaned in frustration.
“Done,” Chase spoke into your ear right before he left. “Be gentle with it.”
Hyunjin held on to your thighs for dear life when you attempted to get off him, loudly whining in protest.
“No, DON’T!” he pinned you in your place. “Don’t leave.”
“But I want to see it,” you tried to look back.
“Don’t leave,” he insisted, loudly slurping on your entrance. “Don’t leave. I’ve waited years for this!”
He started lapping at your clit much faster, stuffing his face with you out of sheer desperation. His makeout with your pussy was getting so sloppy that you could feel your thighs getting wet. It was as if the entire room suddenly went silent. All you could hear was the smack of his lips, his guttural moans, his unhinged encouragements to drown him in your cum and choke him between your legs. He reached for your tits and started fondling them, letting you ride his mouth however fast you wanted this time.
“Chain me to yourself. I fucking worship you.”
You exploded in his mouth, and everything went momentarily white, a sharp ringing echoing in your ears. You couldn’t control how deep your moans were coming from, all deep and throaty as your whole body peaked, your orgasm hitting straight to the roof of your head. You couldn’t tell how long you rode out that high, but you were exhausted when you finally managed to come down, limp legs fully giving out as you collapsed next to Hyunjin. He hovered over you and held one of your hands, pressing it over the clear film on his chest. And you finally saw it in its full glory.
Motherfucker actually got your autograph tattooed.
“Do you still have any doubts?” he asked, kissing all over your face.
You gently caressed his tattoo, breaking into a satisfied smile. You slid your hands down to the waistband of his jeans and tugged on it, silently asking him to take them off. He looked absolutely delicious, huge girth, rock hard, leaking with his arousal. You wrapped your legs around him, made him palm himself and press his cock against your oozing hole, salivating just at the thought of him stretching you.
“If I see you so much as tweet about some other bitch,” you spoke softly as if you were reciting love poems to him, sneakily tangling your fingers around the chain of his necklace, then harshly yanked him down, “I will find you, and I will kill you.”
“Fucking marry me,” he growled through his teeth, not even the least bit joking.
He sank into you with a thrust so sharp that you arched in your place, your eyes widened with the impact. The harder he fucked you, the more he was losing himself, trading his sanity for the ecstasy consuming him faster than he could have foreseen, but he…
…didn’t…
…fucking…
…care…
…anymore.
This was it. This was the moment.
All these years spent watching you from afar…
All the people he had to bribe…
All the gigs he had to sabotage…
All the kills he had to order…
For this moment.
Right here.
Right now.
Deep inside his god.
Becoming completely hers.
“You know they’re watching us,” he maniacally laughed. “They wish they were us. They wish they were me, but they will never know what it feels like to fuck you.”
“W–Why?”
“Do you really wanna know the answer?”
You smiled at him so brightly that Hyunjin thought he had finally lost it.
You trapped him in your leglock, held onto his shoulders, and just admired the way he heavily panted over you, kissing your wrists, frantically fucking you like he was being chased. He was losing his grip on reality one push at a time. He just could not control the deranged confessions he was making back to back, and when he thought he was done for, you were actually throbbing harder around him. You were moaning louder. You were breathing faster. You were looking into his eyes way too fondly, and if you didn’t cut it out right fucking now, he was going to believe that—
“I love you, Hyunjin.”
He came so hard that his moans were suddenly silenced like they were cut with a knife, crawling out of his own body as he drained himself into you. His face was all contorted, half in narcotic pleasure and half in something you couldn’t quite decipher, and if this was what joy was, Hyunjin had never felt joy before. If this was what pleasure was, he had never felt pleasure before. But he knew he felt love. He had felt it since the day he saw you at the record store buying your first guitar.
But when post-nut clarity hit him like a truck, a sense of acute dread settled in his chest.
“That was uh… er erhm…” he cleared his throat. “That was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. You know that, right?”
“Likewise. What happens inside me, stays inside me,” you brushed his damp locks with your fingers. “But I don’t think it will kill us to spoon.”
He flashed you a fatigued smile and kissed all over your shoulders as you turned your back to him, as though you were about to bask in some wholesome afterglow in the privacy of your own bedroom. His warmth enveloped you like a comfort blanket, and you felt his nose in the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent and humming happily.
You wondered if Hyunjin would cry tears of happiness if you showed him the room at your place, walls filled to the brim with the photos you’d been taking of him for the past five years.
❥ Reblog & drop your feedback so that Hyunjin can take your last name..
Synopsis: When you signed up for a paid product testing program, you expected free samples and money. What you didn’t expect was to be paired with Hwang Hyunjin and assigned to test a series of increasingly questionable sexual wellness products together. (26,1k words)
Author's note: It's here. The final chapter is here. Thank you to each and every one of you who have been following this series. I hope you enjoy this one last one ❣️
You wake slowly. Your lashes flutter, the world still soft around the edges as you shift slightly against the bed, the sheets tangled somewhere around your legs. For a second, you don’t move, just lying there, letting sleep cling to you before you put your hand reaches and fumbles blindly across the bedside table, grabbing your phone, bringing it close enough to squint at the screen.
You slightly jolt at the realization that half of the day went by. “What—?” Your voice comes out hoarse, disbelieving.
You push yourself up slightly, brushing your hair away from your face and just sit there, back leaning against the headboard to give your brain time to catch up. You turn your head to the side and find Hyunjin still asleep. He’s sprawled across the bed with arms stretched, one leg half hanging off the mattress, the duvet completely kicked aside. It’s like he’s making snow angel in his dream.
You shake your head as a soft laugh slips out of you. You move his arm, setting it beside him as you shift closer. Your body naturally finding its place against his, and you nuzzle your face into the warm curve of his neck.
“Hey, wake up,” your voice comes out low and a little hoarse.
He’s too deep in his slumber to even respond. You try again by gently poking his cheek with your finger, followed by small, ticklish kisses along his jaw. Still, nothing. Not even a twitch.
You pull back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him as you sigh in annoyance, “Unbelievable…”
Well, if he won’t wake up, you will make him. You slide off the bed and walk over to the window, fingers gripping the curtain before pulling it open in one swift motion. Daylight instantly floods in, filling every corner of the room with bright, unforgiving late afternoon sun.
You turn to look at him, waiting if it does something to him and to your surprise, nothing. You exhale sharply through your nostrils and march back to the bed. You don’t even hesitate to jump and the mattress sinks as you land beside him, bouncing slightly as you lean over him.
“Come on! Wake up!” You say, pulling at his arm.
Finally, he stirs just slightly and groans. Then his arms moves as it reaches for you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you down with him. You let out a small sound of surprise as you collapse onto his chest.
Hyunjin is already settling again, eyes remain closed, breathing slow and even. Like he’s already halfway back to sleep again.
You huff softly and stack your hands together on his chest, resting your chin on it. Then you just watch him, all his beautiful features that complement each other perfectly. At the sight of his lips, an intrusive thought pops in your head and almost without thinking, your fingers lift, tracing lightly over his soft, plump lips.
Another intrusive thought pops and you cave in immediately — you lean down to press your lips against his, placing a gentle, lingering kiss on him.
You pull away just enough to put an inch between your lips. “Wake up. I’m hungry…” you mumble with coaxing tone.
He doesn’t answer, but his arms tighten around you, holding you closer. A bit later, he shifts and lifts his head to close the inch between your lips for a soft, sleepy kiss. Then he drops back onto the pillow.
He takes a moment to gather his senses and then his eyes fluttering open. When they meet yours, he breaks into a lazy grin. A gentle hand lands on the top of your head, thumb tucking away a strand of hair on your temple.
“Room service?” he murmurs.
You shake your head. “No. Let’s go out.”
He stares at the ceiling, like he’s thoughtfully considering it. Then he nods. “Okay.”
You smile and place a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m going to get ready,” you say.
You press your hands into the mattress, about to push yourself up when all of a sudden, his arms tighten again and holding you in place.
“Hey—”
“Five more minutes,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
You glare down at him. “Just five?”
“Mmm-hm.”
“Just five more minutes,” you warn as you let yourself sink back down, melting into him.
However, five minutes turn into… more than five. By the time the two of you step out of the hotel for a late lunch and it turns into an early dinner. Despite it, the food tastes better and maybe because you skipped an entire half of the day with sleep. Or maybe it’s just him. Either way, you both finish the meals rather too quickly.
On the bright side, it gives you and him time to walk down to the beach, just in time to enjoy the sunset.
By the time you’re sitting on the sand, side by side, the sky is already starting to shift, the blue deepening, warm colors slowly bleeding into the horizon as the sun lowers itself toward the water.
You pull your knees up slightly, arms wrapped loosely around them as you watch. “Can’t believe we just wasted another day like that…” you sigh with a pout.
Hyunjin leans back, hands propping against the sanding behind him. “We didn’t just waste it,” he mutters in disagreement.
You turn your head and narrow your eyes at him. “If only you weren’t scowling and upset with me all the time,” you say, teasing him.
He scoffs at that and without looking at you, he says, “Pfft… I told you I wasn’t upset.”
“Yeah, but you were scowling.”
“I wasn’t.”
You softly laugh and then playfully bump his shoulder with yours. “Yet you’re the one who says why I’m the girl with the adorable scowl,” you casually say, glancing sideway to see his reaction.
It takes him seconds to process your words and realizes where they came from. Yet, he decides to act oblivious and coyly says, “What are you talking about?”
You glare at him, giving him another shoulder bump. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know.”
He just looks at you, feigning innocence like he never heard it before. Or that those exact words firstly came out of his own mouth.
“I know you recommended me to Jane. For the test program,” you tell him.
Hyunjin pauses for a second and then smirks. Like you figuring it out just now is entertaining.
Offended, you elbow his side, but he barely reacts. “You acted so convincingly at the seminar. Like you didn’t know we were paired.”
That gets him bursting into laughter, his head tilting back slightly, shoulders shaking as the sound escapes him freely.
It annoys you even more so you elbow him again, a little harder. “Stop laughing.”
“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all.
You cross your arms slightly, turning more serious now. “Why did you choose me anyway?”
That question lingers a little longer than the others. Hyunjin simply shrugs and says, “Because I wanted to annoy you.”
You elbow him again. “Be serious!”
He laughs again, dodging slightly this time. “Okay, okay—”
He thinks for a second and then tries again. “Because it’d be fun. Doing it with you.”
The answer is more honest than before but you elbow him anyway. Harder. “Try again.”
“Hey—” he winces, hand coming up to his side. “That one hurt.”
“Good.”
He exhales, rubbing his ribcage. This time, he looks at you as he seriously answers. “Because I always wanted to get close to you and I just didn’t know how.”
You go quiet. Your gaze softens without you meaning it to. A smile starts to form anyway and you look away before he can see too much of it, looking back to the horizon where the sky is now painted in orange and pink, the sun dipping lower, reflecting across the water.
“You should’ve chosen Gabe,” you say, almost absentmindedly.
“What’s the fun in doing it with someone who already likes me?” he says without a beat.
You let out a scoff of disbelief. “Yeah, sure, the girls go crazy for a cocky guy like you,” you sneer.
He turns to you and beams as he lightly says, “See? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”
You try not to fall in easily but a soft laugh slips out before you can stop it. And when he puts his arm around you, you instantly lean into him, fitting there easily.
Hyunjin leans in to press a kiss on the top of your head and then brings his mouth close to the side of your head. “I know you like this cock,” he whispers with a teasing edge.
You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes and letting him see the way yours widen in surprise. You elbow him again, but this time is more like a nudge.
He laughs in satisfaction and draws you closer to his side. “I mean, I know you like this cocky guy,” he corrects, still laughing.
A beat later, he corrects again, “A charming, cocky guy.”
You shake your head at that but at the same time, can’t help the way your lips curve into a smile.
He looks at you, still with that grin on his face and then he presses a gentle kiss on your lips, long enough for the warmth of it to spread all over you.
When the kiss breaks, the two of you turn your head back to the way the sun sinking deeper into the horizon, the sky darkens and the air cooling. The way everything else feels like it’s slowing down around you.
Aside from the fact that everything happened before this is not as accidental as you think.
But this, here, right now — you’re both here because you chose to be with each other.
In this moment.
-
The elevator is empty when you step in. Hyunjin hurriedly presses the number to your hotel floor without letting go of your hand and soon, the doors slide shut. Before the elevator even starts moving, you reach for him. Your fingers gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him forward until he’s standing right in front of you, your back pressing lightly against the wall.
He doesn’t resist. Instead, his hands come to your waist, holding you steady as his eyes drop to meet yours. “So, what’s our plan for the night?” he casually asks, but there’s something underneath it.
You glide your hands up his arms, hands resting on the nape of his neck, playing softly with the strands of hair there. You don’t answer. You just keep looking at him and that alone is enough to create tension between you and him.
His grip tightens just slightly at your waist. “Are you hungry already? Should we get room service later?” he asks, a smirk threatening to show.
With the hand rested on the back of his head, you pull him closer and without the slightest bit of hesitation, you kiss him.
It catches him off guard for a fraction before he melts into it, kissing you back like he’s been waiting for it with one hand stays on one side of your waist, the other trailing up your spine.
You open your mouth wider just to let him have as much taste as he can, letting him deepens the kiss and then slowly, you pull away. But he follows, chasing for your lips, for another kiss.
Before he can execute it, the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Then a group of people steps inside. And just like that, Hyunjin stops and straightens, but he stays where he is, close to you.
You can’t help but chuckle seeing his exasperated expression and the way he tries to compose himself. But his eyes— His eyes are still on you.
Feeling mischievous, you tilt your head just slightly, gaze dropping to his lips before flicking your eyes up and stare deeply into his eyes. You pull him close, close enough that only he can hear you when you speak.
“I have a plan for us tonight.”
This time, he stops himself from hiding his smirk. “Yeah?”
You rise onto your tiptoes, allowing you to speak right into his ear. Your lips lightly grazing the shell of his ear as you whisper, “Trust me. It’ll be fun.”
You linger there for a few more seconds before pulling back and look at him. The smile you give him is flirtatious and knowing. Like you didn’t just leave him there, caught between curiosity, intrigue… And something else entirely.
The elevator continues to climb, floor by floor and you can tell that Hyunjin is wondering what you have planned for tonight.
-
The second Hyunjin closes the door behind him and then turns, you run to him. Your hands grabbing onto him, your body colliding into his hard enough that it pushes him back a step and at the same time, your lips crash into his.
Hyunjin lets out a soft, surprised sound against your mouth, caught off guard by the force of it, but it only takes him a heartbeat before he’s kissing you back. Eagerly, like this is the only thing he thinks about since the elevator.
Your bodies tangle immediately, moving clumsily that your feet stepping over each other, as you push him backward, guiding him toward the bed without breaking the kiss. The kiss is messy and breathless, desperate in places. Yet you don’t stop, you keep steering until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. And then, you pull away, gasping for air when your mouths finally detached.
You flash him a smirk as you put both hands on his chest and then push him, hard and he falls back onto the mattress. A soft exhale escaped his parted as he lands, eyes already on you with excitement flickering in them. His smirk returns like a tell that he’s already enjoying this. Like he wants to see what you’ll do next.
You don’t make him wait for it. You climb onto him, straddling him easily, your knees settling on either side of his hips as you lean down and put your lips on him again. This time, you kiss him harder and deeper, teeth gently biting at his lower lip, tongue twirling around his.
Hyunjin’s hands coming up to your waist, gripping, pulling you closer like there’s even space left between you. You let him yourself get drawn to the temptation, feeding in on his hunger for you.
When your lungs start to burn and your breath turns uneven, only then do you pull away. Reluctantly. Your hand comes up beside his head, bracing yourself as you hover over him, looking down.
He’s already looking back at you with dark, lustful eyes and solely focused on you. His hand lifts, brushing your hair away from your face, tucking it back gently like he doesn’t want anything in the way of seeing you.
“Is this the fun plan?” he asks, voice a little rough.
You seductively smile and then lean down to press a quick, innocent kiss to his lips. “No.”
That throws him and you immediately see the confusion on his face. You pull back with a small smirk and cup his jaw. “Give me a few minutes as I get things ready,” you say.
His eyebrow lifts and you can almost see every thought running through his head, every possibility stacking on top of each other. It almost makes you laugh at how much you enjoy this. Instead, you lean in again, stealing one more kiss before pulling away completely.
“Now, wait here and don’t come out until I call you.”
With that, you slide off him, off the bed, leaving him there watching you as you step back. You walk toward the sliding doors, each hand reaching to pull them closed. Before you shut them completely, you pop your head in between and warn him one last time.
“Stay and wait here.”
You doubt that he hears you right or that he’d listen to your warn anyway. You lift a finger and pointing it at him. “Don’t come out until I call you,” you warn again, firmer but with a playful smile decorated your face.
Hyunjin doesn’t answer or confirm, he only grins at you. You choose to trust him that he’ll be a good boy and does as you instructed. Then you take one last step back and close the doors
-
Hyunjin stays where you left him. He’s lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and patitently waiting for your call. It’s only been a minute, he’s sure he needs to wait longer so he lets out a quiet sigh, a disbelieving huff slipping past his lips as one hand brushes his dark locks to the back.
What just happened?
Hyunjin slowly backtracked everything he did together with you. Waking up to your soft, loving call of his name. Ate late lunch/early dinner together. Enjoyed the beautiful sunset together. You found out that he recommended you to Jane and wasn’t upset about it as he thought you would. You whispered that you have a fun plan prepared for tonight. You kissed him, pushed him hard onto the bed. You kissed him more, straddling him and pining him under. And now, you’re making him wait as you’re preparing something behind those doors.
He lets his arms stretch out before tucking them behind his head and stares up as his mind slowly catching up with everything.
It’s a lot to process all at once, but strangely, he doesn’t feel overwhelmed. If anything… He feels good that everything is out and that it doesn’t make things awkward or complicated. He feels really, really good.
And while he waits, his thoughts drift back to you, to whatever you’re doing behind those doors. There’s only so many directions his brain wants to go and none of them are exactly innocent. He exhales through his nose, a smirk forming as he shifts slightly on the bed as he lets himself indulges in the imaginations.
Maybe you’re changing into something… nice. Something you know would surprise him in so many ways, except innocently. Or maybe, you’re going around the room, setting a few things to be more ‘in the mood’. Or maybe—
Oh, man. The longer he waits, the more his imagination fills in the blanks and the more impatient he gets.
With a small groan, he rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes fixed on the doors like he can somehow will them open faster. But nope, they’re still closed, still quiet.
“Few minutes are up,” he calls out, voice just loud enough to carry through.
A while later, he can hear the faint sound of your laughter. “Just a little bit more,” you reply.
He smiles just from hearing your voice and laugh — Which honestly is kind of insane. He shakes his head slightly, amused at himself before deciding to push it further.
“I’m getting sleepy,” he says, dragging out the words.
“Then go to sleep,” you answer without a beat.
Hyunjin breaks into laughter as he’s dropping his head back onto the bed again, one arm falling over his eyes. God. Love is so silly and embarrassing.
A moment later, you finally call for him. “Okay, you can come out now.”
Hyunjin scrambles to get up, swings his legs off the bed and stands. He pauses for a brief moment by the doors, hands on the handles like he’s bracing himself for whatever’s on the other side.
After a deep inhale of air, Hyunjin parts the doors open and his eyes automatically sweep over the room, looking for the ‘fun plan’ you’ve been talking about. He notices that the lights aren’t dimmed, no candles surrounded the space or the sofa has not been cozied up for a certain activity. And when his eyes land on you, you’re still wearing the same dress, more covered than what he imagined earlier. He only sees you there, sitting on the carpeted floor right in front of the low table.
Your arms thrown wide in the air, beaming at him like you’ve just revealed something spectacular. “TADA!”
He gives it another look-around, scanning the room like maybe he’s missing something, but no. But when his gaze return to you, he finally notices something on the table. Some kind of board game.
He takes a slow step forward, still processing. “This is your fun plan?”
You grin as you nod in confirmation.
He steps closer, like proximity might somehow change what he’s seeing. “Board game?”
You nod again. “Yes.”
Hyunjin just stands there for a second, staring at you and at the board. And then back at you. A breath escapes him. Half disbelief. Half laughter threatening to break through. “You made me wait for this?”
There’s no real complaint in his voice. He’s just… slightly baffled yet amused. But also, he knows this is just so you.
You smile as you pat the space on the carpeted floor beside you. “Come. Sit.”
He obeys, lowering himself onto the carpet, crossing his legs as he settles in, his gaze flicking from your bright, expectant grin to the board in front of him. Still confused.
“What kind of board game is this?” he asks, brows slightly drawn together.
Before you can answer, there’s knocking on the door. You’re moving, quick on your feet as you hurry to the door, leaving him sitting there, blinking after you like this whole thing just keeps getting stranger.
When you return, you have a bottle of champagne cradled in one arm and carrying a tray with both hands. His eyes follow every step as you lower it onto the table, two champagne flutes with a wine opener and then, something mysterious hidden under a metal lid.
As if you know he’s curious with what’s inside, you lift the lid to reveal a bowl of strawberries and melted chocolate in the other smaller bowl. The memory of that one movie night hits him instantly.
You hand him the bottle of champagne, along with the wine opener. “Will you please open it?”
“Certainly,” he says as he takes them. His hands skilfully working with the cork until it loosens and pops open. A soft fizz follows, bubbling at the neck as he quickly pours into both glasses, careful not to spill a drop. He quickly clinks his glass gently against yours and takes a big sip to not let it spill over. The wine is slightly fruity and smooth, instantly refreshing him.
He exhales quietly, setting the glass aside before leaning forward again, eyes back on the board. It looks like a game of monopoly but he knows for sure that it’s not it.
“What kind of game is this?” he asks again.
“It’s a fun game,” you simply answer with a grin.
He lets out a small sigh, already half-exasperated. “I mean, how do you play it?”
You softly giggle and then patiently explain that it’s just like any other board game. He only needs to roll dice and then moves the pieces according to the number he gets, but even that feels vague, like you’re intentionally leaving things open.
“Let’s just learn as we go,” you finish, waving it off.
He doubts that that’s all it is. But he chooses to trust you, for now. “Okay.”
You take another sip of wine, then glance at him. “Ready to play?”
He mirrors you, lifting his glass for a quick sip before setting it down. “Yeah.”
He straightens a little, focus settling in and gets his head in the game. But then, you look at him again.
“To start, we have to look lovingly into each other’s eyes,” you carefully instruct, setting the two pieces on the starting square. “And whoever blinks last gets the first turn.”
He scoffs lightly, a competitive spark lighting up immediately. “Just so you know, I’m good at staring games.”
You smile like you already know something he doesn’t. “Let’s begin by close our eyes first and open them at the count of three.”
Hyunjin closes his eyes right away and across from him, he hears the subtle shift of you turning to face him fully.
Your voice slower and softer now as you start to count down. “One… two…”
He breathes in and as soon as the word “three” is out of your mouth, he opens his eyes. and it startles him just a little to find you leaning in so close. Your face right there, merely an inches away from his with a sly smile playing on your lips as you look straight into his eyes.
Suddenly, this isn’t a game anymore. Something about the way you’re just looking at him and the unspoken words flickering in them — It does something to him. Because all he can think about is how easy it would be to close the gap between your lips. It’s a test on his restraint.
“We’re supposed to lovingly look into each other’s eyes,” he mutters, trying to hold onto some control.
You giggle and when you stop, your teeth fainty biting at your lower lip. Then, you lean in even closer. “What do you think I’m doing?” you murmur.
He knows you’re baiting him, knows you’re pushing him right to that edge on purpose.
And still, he holds onto his restraint just a little longer, a little stronger. But god, the way you’re looking at him. The way your eyes don’t waver, almost daring him. The way your lips are right there. He feels his restraint slipping and eventually, he gives in.
He lifts his hand, cupping your face as he closes the distance and finally, kisses you. Like that’s what this was always leading to. The kiss is gentle yet deep
“I won,” you triumphantly declare as soon as he pulls away.
He exhales, dropping his head back slightly as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Take the first turn. Whatever.”
But as he turns toward the board, there’s a smile tugging at his lips anyway. Because honestly? He doesn’t feel like he lost at all.
-
Hyunjin leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he watches you take the dice.
You shake it in your hand in confidence and then toss it onto the table. It rolls and then stops on a five.
His eyes follow your hand as you move your piece across the board, counting softly under your breath until it lands on a square marked with a small cherry. He tilts his head, curious. “What does that mean?”
“It means I get a sweet treat,” you answer, reaching for the tray. You pick up a strawberry and dip it slowly into the melted chocolate. Then take a bite.
His eyes stay on you, watching the way your lips wrap around it, the chocolate catching slightly at the corner of your mouth.
You chew and smile a little to yourself. Then glance at him. “It’s your turn.”
He quickly snaps himself out of it. He grabs the dice, rolling it between his fingers before tossing it onto the table. Three. He moves his piece and it lands on a square marked with a pair of lips.
His brow lifts slightly in confusion. “And what this one means?”
“You get to kiss.”
His mouth twitch but before it can form into a smile, you place a different dice into his hand. This one is red and eight-sided, there are words written on each side of it.
“Now, roll this one,” you instruct.
He barely has time to read what’s written on each side of the dice. He rolls and then tosses it onto the table. It lands on… Hand.
“Hand?”
You nod, like this is completely normal. “That means you get to kiss me on the hand.”
He scoffs lightly. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he wants to kiss you somewhere else. But still, a kiss is a kiss, it counts when it’s with you. He takes your hand and brings it up. Then gently presses a kiss on the back of it and another on your wrist. He doesn’t stop there as his lips trail upward, making a trail of ferocious, little kisses up your arm.
You giggle in reaction, trying to pull back. “You only have to kiss my hand!”
“I am,” he says, half-laughing, not stopping. “I’m kissing your whole hand.”
You laugh harder, finally tugging your arm away, but he’s already smiling to himself, satisfied.
He picks up the red dice again, this time actually reading it. Lips, cheek, forehead, neck. His eyebrow lifts when he reads, ‘Free’.
“Free?”
“That means you can kiss wherever you want,” you casually answer.
His lips curve into a seductive smirk. “Wherever?”
“Wherever,” you repeat.
You roll again before he can say anything else and this time, your piece steps on a square with a question mark on it. You reach for the stack of card with identical mark, picking up a card and flipping it over to read what’s written on it.
“What’s the sexiest part of your partner’s body?”
His gaze slightly intensifies. A slow smirk forming as he leans back slightly, waiting in anticipation for your answer.
He suddenly aware of the way your eyes travel down his body. Not just looking, but scanning, taking him in. He notices the way your eyes linger around the lower half of his body before flicking back up to meet his eyes.
You flash him a cryptic, naughty smile before finally say your answer. “Your eyes.”
He lets out a quiet chuckle, doubting your answer. “My eyes? Really?”
You nod, certain.
Hyunjin leans in, leaning in too close that his breath ghosts your lips. “I thought you’d say something else.”
Your head tilts slightly, eyes daringly stare back at him. “Huh? What did you think it is?”
His gaze dips for a second and instead of answering, he chooses to show you. He takes your hand again, bringing it up, brushing your fingers lightly against his lips. His voice is dropping lower now. “Are you sure it’s not my lips?”
You smile as he continues to use your fingertips to feel the softness of his lips. “Your lips are sexy too. But…”
“But…?”
You catch his chin in your hand and then turn his face back toward the board game. “But it’s your turn now.”
He huffs out a laugh and then takes the dice again, rolling it with a small shake of his head.
It lands on a martini glass.
“You get to drink,” you quicky explains.
“That’s boring,” he grumbles. Yet, his hand reaching for his glass, taking a sip of the bubbly wine, feeling refreshed once again.
You’re already rolling again. Six. You waste no time to move your piece forward, landing on a square marked with a chili pepper. You take a card from another stack with the same drawing on the, and read it out loud.
“Give your partner a passionate kiss for 15 seconds.”
Oh. That’s how this game works. Each square is a command but the cards are specified commands depend on their signs. So far, the question mark is for questions. The chili pepper one is for spicy commands. Then, there’s another stack with a heart on it and that one is still unknown.
But wow! Finally! Something exciting.
You dramatically sigh as you prop a hand under your chin. “Why does this feel like a punishment?”
He doesn’t even try to hide his smile, turning his body slightly facing you and patiently wait for you to come to him.
You let out another sigh before crawling your way toward him and then, you climb onto his lap like you’ve already accepted your fate. His heart starts beating faster as your hands come up, cupping his face as you look down at him.
For a second, you just look, letting the anticipation builds and builds. When you close your eyes, he does the same. The first touch of your lips is light, testing and you pull back just slightly, just enough to tilt your head to the side. You part your mouth open before leaning in once more, kissing him deeper yet slower, letting him feeling every brush of your lips on his, the way you suck on his lower lip and coaxing him to open his mouth by gently biting at it. Of course, he caves in eventually and the kiss grows more certain, more consuming.
The tension keeps building with every second as you lean more into him, your tongue brushes his and twirling it with his, enough to pull a quiet breath from him before you latch on him again, kissing him with everything you’ve got.
Fifteen seconds suddenly feels way too short. Because just when he’s getting lost in it, you pull away.
You’re smiling as you mutter, “Time’s up.”
He chases after your lips, wanting more, needing more. “Just a bit more…” he breathlessly whine, almost pathetically.
You only give him a quick peck on the lips and then slide off his lap, settling back to your spot like nothing happened. He almost shakes his head at the way you mercilessly tease him and act like you didn’t just do that.
You grab the dice again and he stops you by wrapping his hand around yours. “Hey, it’s my turn.”
“I got six,” you say, opening his grip on your hand. “So I get to roll again.”
Hyunjin reluctantly lets go and you toss the dice onto the table. Five. Your piece lands on the cherry. He sighs because it’s the boring one, but he quickly reaches for the bowl of strawberries.
“I’ll do it for you,” he says.
You let him and watch as he takes one, dipping the strawberry into the chocolate, holding it up to your lips. Once you take a bite of it, he shoves the rest into his mouth and licks the chocolate off his fingers.
When you look at the board, you grin and clap your hands together. “I finished one lap.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“First to finish three laps wins.”
Okay, now that he understands how the game works, —well, most of it— he realizes that winning the game is not really the point.
Hyunjin takes his turn, still feeling the warmth of you lingering in his arms as he rolls the dice. Four. His piece stops on a square with the heart on it.
You point at the stack of card. “Pick a card.”
He eyes you suspiciously before reaching for the stack, picking one from the top and flipping it over. He reads the command loud enough for the two of you to hear.
“Hug your partner for 30 seconds.”
He puts the card down and mumbles, “Only 30 seconds? That’s cruel.”
You softly laugh at that but don’t seem to mind as he’s already moving. He stands on his knees and offers you his hands, helping you up with him until you’re facing each other. First, he puts his hands on your waist and then slowly, he pulls you in until there’s no space left between you. And just like that, you’re in his arms.
Your arms loop around his shoulders, one hand drifting up to the back of his head, fingers lightly scratching there. It makes him relax and leans in further, burying his face into the crook of your neck like he’s just found the most comfortable, safest place for him to be.
Time flew by and when you murmur softly that time’s up, he only tightens his hold.
“Give me like…” his voice is muffled by your skin. “…thirty more hours of it.”
You chuckle at that and let him, your hand sliding to his back, landing comforting rubs there. And for a moment, he forgets everything else, including the fact that this is a part of a game.
You pull back just enough to look at him and say, “We have to continue.”
Reluctantly and with a dramatic pout, he lets you go and the two of you settle back onto the carpeted floor.
You take your turn and you land on the chili pepper. Again. His interest peaked as you grab a card and read it. “Sit on your partner’s lap until your next turn.”
The grin on his face is so wide that his cheeks hurt. He folds his legs together and pats his lap. “Come, girl. Come on!” he calls for you like he’s summoning his pet puppy.
The annoyed sigh makes a return as you move and sit on his lap. His arm wraps around your waist immediately, holding you close like you’d float away if he didn’t. He leans in without thinking, sneaking a kiss on your neck. You sharply glare at him for it, but he ignores it as puts his focus on the game.
His piece lands on the question mark and he confidently picks up a card from the stack. “When do you find your partner the most beautiful?”
Hearing the question, you turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder, putting all of your attention on him.
He tosses the card aside, both arms wrapping around you now as he thoughtfully thinking like this is a question that will alter his life. “You’re the most beautiful when… you’re working.”
Your expression is pure confusion for one second and turns a little surprised in the next one.
“When you’re focused… serious… you have that faint little scowl on your face,” He can see the way you’re holding yourself back from smiling as he continues. “You’re too busy taking care of… everything else you don’t even realize how beautiful you look.”
You let your smile shows and then narrow your eyes at him. “Correction! It’s an adorable scowl,” you playfully say with a grin.
He nods at that and before your smile disappears, he kisses the corner of your mouth.
“It’s my turn now,” you say, sliding off his lap. You give a dice a good shake and roll it onto the table. Five. The piece lands on the kiss square.
His eyebrow perks up in excitement as you take the red dice and roll it across the table. It stops just on the edge and on the word, ‘Neck’. Before he can even tease you for it, you lean in to place a quick, fleeting kiss press of your lips against his neck. Barely there.
“Hey, that doesn’t count,” he instantly protests.
“But it was a kiss. On the neck,” you say, matter-of-factly with a faint grin.
“That was nothing.”
You crack a laugh and this time, when you lean in, you lean in slower and more deliberate. Your lips press to his neck, warm and soft, and then, your tongue brushes over the skin in a light, teasing lick. It’s quick but enough to make his eyes fluttering and sending a shiver down his spine. A quiet inhale slipping from between his parted lips before you pull away, smiling like you know exactly what you just did.
You place the dice in his hand. “Your turn.”
Hyunjin is still reeling from the kiss and he inhales air to recover from it, shaking the dice in his palm, eyes already locked on a specific square. The chili pepper square. Three steps away. He brings his fist to his mouth, blowing on it like it’ll bring him luck and then tosses it.
Three. He lets out a quiet, satisfied hum. He keeps his calm as he picks up the card from the stack and reads it silent.
“This is fun,” he mutters with a slow, dangerous smirk stretches across his face.
You lean in, trying to read what’s written on the card. “What does it say?”
He reads it aloud for you. “Take one piece of your partner’s clothing off.”
You groan immediately as you look down and realize there’s not much to undress as you’re in a dress. “Great. I should’ve worn layers.”
He leans back slightly, considering his options and watching your cute, annoyed face. It seems obvious to you that he’d go for the dress and he lets you think that by reaching for the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly.
Your eyes lock with his as your thighs are now exposed and you slightly lift your hips off the floor as he lifts the hem higher and higher and then—
He changes direction, letting go of the hem and slips his hand under, and then higher until his fingers meeting the waistband of your underwear. Your eyes widening in reaction, a low gasp contained behind your pressed lips and that alone is enough to push him further.
He takes his time as he hooks his fingers in the fabric and then pulls it down, slowly and deliberately. He lets out a sigh when the silky fabric comes into sight and keeps his eyes on it as he continues to pull it down your legs until it’s off of you. He shamelessly takes a quick sniff and shoves it into the pocket of his shirt after. Then leans back with a satisfied look, like he just won something.
You shake your head at him, taking a sip of your drink like you’re suddenly thirsty from the little stunt he pulled. You breathe in air before taking the dice in your hand again and roll it. Your piece stands on the square with the heart on it.
You pick up a card from the stack and read it. “Whisper three compliments to your partner.”
You put the card away with a sigh. “Oh, man, I wish I have something nice to say to you,” you jokingly mutter, giving him a side glance.
Hyunjin only smiles at you and calmly says, “You can say I’m charming. I’m fun to be with. Or that I’m good at annoying you.”
“The last one sounds about right,” you say with a smile. You scoot closer, bringing your mouth close to his side and get quiet as you think.
When you’re ready, you lean in closer and he tilts his head to meet you halfway. Your lips brushing near his ear as you whisper, “I think you’re a talented artist.”
He smiles and nods. “A hundred percent agree!”
You hum as you pause and think again. “You’re very good at annoying me,” you whisper.
He opens his mouth to protest but you quickly add, “… As good as making me smile and laugh.”
And he can’t help but smile at that. He doesn’t expect that one to make his heart fluttering inside his chest.
“And…” you whisper as you continue.
He softly gazes into your eyes and echoes, “And…?”
“You’re good at…” your words trail off as your finger playing with the button on his shirt, intentionally making him wait for it. When your eyes meet his again, you finally finish the sentence. “You’re good at making me feel good.”
That compliment has double entendre and he knows you did that on purpose. Because now he can’t decide whether he should be touched or aroused, or both. But one thing for sure, the compliment gives him a boost of confidence.
You hold his gaze for second longer, letting him read the intention behind your compliments before taking the dice and put it in his hand. “Okay, time to roll.”
With a sigh, Hyunjin takes the dice in his hand and gets four. The piece lands on the kiss square and he knows his way around the game now. He grabs the red dice. His eyes darken slightly as the dice stops on the word, ‘Free’.
“Kiss wherever I want…” he mutters with a look of mischief.
You only shake your head in defeat, a smile supressed to hide your amusement.
He crawls to you, taking your legs and turning you to face him. He uses his hand to part them open, the hem of your dress covering what’s in between but not the fact that you’re bare underneath.
You stay where you are, calmly leaning back with your hands propped against the floor, legs parted open. A faint smirk lingering on your lips.
Hyunjin flashes you a seductive smile before lowering his mouth, lower and lower until his head buried between your legs. He presses his nose against your inner thigh, drinking in the scent that clings to your skin.
You remain still as he trails up your thigh and not stopping until his mouth meeting your bare sex, warm and wet. He hums as he inhales the arousing smell and then leans in to kiss your clit. Your body jerks for a fraction as he uses his tongue next, just the tip, circling on your bundle of nerves and then taking it into his mouth again. He got you. He got you good. But the truth is he’s just as affected. Maybe more.
A breathless gasp falls out of your mouth as he continues kissing at your clit. Like he’s making out with it. A hand comes to tangle it in his dark locks, gently tugging at it. “It says a kiss,” you tell him.
Hyunjin smiles against your heating cunt and drags his lips to the side, kissing on the skin around your arousal. “It is a kiss.”
Then he pulls back just enough to put his tongue out. “It’s one—” he pauses to land a lick between your folds. “…long—” a lick. “…continuous—” another lick. “…kiss.”
A soft, amused chuckle escaped your lips as one knee bends higher than the other, toes curling against the carpet. But you manage to stay calm despite the way his tongue and lips hungrily eating your cunt.
“I’m going to take my turn anyway,” you casually say.
A hand stay tangled in his hair while the other reaches for the dice, shaking it in your palm and toss it onto the table. He can hear the way you shift and move your piece on the board. Then—
“I won.”
With his head buried between your legs and the hem of your dress cloaked over it, Hyunjin couldn’t care less about anything else, whether he wins or loses. He’s got everything he wants and needs right here, on his mouth.
You tug harder at his hair, forcing him to pull away and he reluctantly detaches his mouth, looking up at you with his mouth glistening wet with your essence. “Didn’t you hear me? I won,” you tell him.
Hyunjin innocently shrugs and says, “So?
“That means I get to do whatever I want,” you say with a triumphant grin.
His brows knitted into a questioning look. “You didn’t mention it earlier,” he grumbles.
You cup the side of his face and coyly smile. “It’s not like you care about the rules and all that.”
Hyunjin kind of expected that you kept something from him and that whoever wins get to have that privilege. But then again, he doesn’t really care about it. He has you and therefore, he won. Without thinking, he throws himself at you and taking you with him, collapsing onto the carpeted floor. Then wastes not another second to plant his mouth on yours.
The game completely forgotten now as you kiss him back, legs wrapping around his waist as you draw him close until there’s not even an inch left between your bodies. You let him put his weight on you, arms wrapped around his back as he deepens the kiss, kissing you without restraint now.
When he deems you need a second to breathe, he lets go. His big hand frames the side of your face, keeping you still so he can stare at your face as he pleases.
“I won,” you say again, a hand braced against his chest.
“Yeah, I heard the first time,” he waves you off while continuously gazing into your eyes.
You glide your hand up to his neck, feeling his pulse there and smiles. “It’s time for the real fun plan,” you declare.
His brows lift in curiosity. “What is it?”
Your hand reaches under the table and pulls out the box. He immediately recognizes it as a welcome gift from the pharmaceutical company. You lift the lid, put your hand inside to look for something without looking. Once you found it, you lift it up.
Furry handcuffs. His eyes slightly widen at it while you tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “The fun plan.”
-
The bed makes a soft creak as you get on top of him again, straddling his hips, your weight grounding him into the mattress as your lips crash into his. The kiss is unlike ones you’ve given him before. It’s heat and urgency and something reckless threaded through it. His breath catches against your mouth as he tries to keep up, hands feeling you through your clothes.
You’re just as impatient, clumsy fingers working on his shirt, tugging at buttons like you don’t have the patience to do it properly.
He huffs a quiet laugh into the kiss, half breathless, half wrecked by it. The sound dissolves when your mouth presses harder, stealing whatever thought he had left. So he gives in, pushing himself up just enough to shrug the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it somewhere behind him without looking.
You don’t even pause. Your lips are back on his instantly, coming at him like you’ve been waiting for it and he lets himself fall back again, fully pinned beneath you as you take what you want, and he gives it just as eagerly. His hands tighten on you, pulling you closer, like there’s still space left between your bodies when there isn’t.
When you finally pull away, his chest rises and falls a little faster, eyes already searching yours.
“It’s fun time,” you breathlessly murmur with a wicked smile.
“Is that necessary?” he asks, head tipping back slightly as you bring the handcuffs back into view.
“Yes,” you answer without a beat.
“I swear I’ll keep my hands off. All the time,” he assures though his eyes hinting at mischief.
You drop your head to the side, eyes staring into his. “Why? You don’t trust me?”
He scoffs lightly, a playful edge to it. “Yeah. I don’t.”
“Exactly.”
Despite his reluctance, he doesn’t move, doesn’t stop you when you reach for his hand. Instead, he watches the way your fingers wrap around his wrist, the way you put too much focus as you secure one cuff and guide his arm up, looping it around the headboard until there’s a soft click and then another. His other hand follows and just like that, his movement is limited. His arms stretched, restrained and the faint clink of metal echoing in the room.
Hyunjin tests it once, just enough to feel the resistance. Then he sees you, catching that look on your face — of satisfaction and amusement.
He tilts his head, voice softening, tone coaxing. “You could at least let one of my hands free.”
You shake your head immediately. “No. Can’t do.”
The answer sounds final and non-negotiable. Your hand comes up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing along his cheek as you look down at him like you’ve already decided everything.
“It’d be fun to blindfold you too,” you add, almost thoughtfully. “But… I want you to see everything.”
Oh, you really do know how to drive him crazy. How to get him aroused and excited and waiting for you in anticipation. Before he can guess what you’re going to do next, you lean down and kiss him again before pulling back with a grin that feels like a secret.
“First things first,” you say as you shift back, your gaze dropping, and his follows without thinking. “I kind of made a mess.”
Hyunjin glances down, bending his leg slightly and yeah, there it is. A darkened, wet patch on his jeans. He guesses you’ve been rubbing yourself against his thigh. He lets out a breath through his nose, half amused, half… fucking aroused.
You don’t look sorry at all, if anything, you’re pleased by it. “So let’s take these off first,” you say, reaching for the waistband of his jeans.
His chest caves as he holds his breath, watching as your fingers work the button open, then the zipper in such calmness that somehow arouses him. He lifts his hips instinctively to help you get it off, watching the way you don’t hesitate or falter.
Once the jeans are out of the way, your eyes automatically land on the evident proof of how aroused he is. To his hardening member, flushed and pulsating with so much desire. A small lift of your brow is enough to say that you’re impressed by what you’re seeing. And you just have no idea what it does to him, do you?
You sit back then, taking in the sight of his naked body against the white sheets with hands chained up and all of him, restrained and aroused under you. Just for you. “I’ll make it fair,” you say.
It gets him clueless for a second until you reach for the zipper at the back of your dress. He doesn’t realize how still he’s gone until the sound of it sliding down fills the room and the fabric slips away. Your hands reaching to the back again, unclasping your bra and then toss it away.
And just like that, there’s nothing left between his gaze and you now.
The cuffs clink softly as his hands shift, instinct pulling against restraint, a quiet frustration threading through the want that hits him all at once. He wants to touch you, kiss you, feel you whole. He wants to be all over you. He didn’t even realize how much he missed this. You and your heavenly body. His eyes darkening as he looks you, eyes trailing every line, every curve of you.
You notice. He knows you do from that little smirk flickers across your lips before you brush it off like it’s nothing, already moving on. “Now for the fun part.”
Your voice turns low and sultry, enough to make his stomach tighten. You reach toward the nightstand, dragging the box onto the bed, pushing the lid aside that it falls onto the floor.
Hyunjin watches with curiosity as your hand disappears inside for a second and then comes back holding a small bottle.
You lift it, tilting it just enough for him to see it. “I’m sure you remember this.”
From the familiar package, he recognizes it right away. Edible lubricant. He huffs a quiet laugh, head tipping back for a second before he looks at you again with double the intensity in his gaze. “Of course I do.”
The way you smile after that tells him he’s in trouble. You open the bottle and tilt it over the back of your hand. The small, clear drop glistens against your skin, you lean in and taste it.
“It tastes just like watermelon,” you say, almost surprised.
That pulls a low chuckle out of him, amused. “What were you expecting?” he asks, voice warm, a little rough.
You shrug, entirely unfazed. “It’s not as good as the cherry one, but… not bad.”
The casual way you say it does nothing to ease the tension curling tight in his chest. If anything, it makes it worse. He notices the way your gaze shifts lower, to the noticeable erection and his breath dips when you bring the bottle closer, positioning it over him without hesitation.
“Oops…” you lowly gasp as you squeeze lubricant onto his cock. But the way you say it doesn’t sound like you’re sorry at all.
Hyunjin grips at the chain on his handcuffs, bracing himself for what’s coming for him. Yet a shiver running through him as the cool sensation hits him as you add a little more and watch it drips down his length.
Your lips curve as you toss the bottle away like it’s already served its purpose. You look at him and keep your eyes on him as you’re using your hand next, lathering the lubricant down his shaft. Your fingers lightly tickling the crest and tighten when it goes down. By the time your hand wrapped around the base, he sharply exhales through his nose.
Your hand trailing over him once more before settling into steady movements, slowly and deliberately, like you’re learning the reaction, memorizing it.
Hyunjin swallows, eyes locked on yours, the tension in his body pulling tighter with every second you take your time. The way you hold his gaze while pumping him, the way you don’t look away, not even for a second—says everything. And it’s the eye contact that gets to him more than anything.
His fingers curl uselessly against the restraint, metal knocking softly against wood as his body reacts, every instinct telling him to reach for you, to pull you closer, but he can’t. The fact that you notice his struggle and do nothing about it is cruel, but it only sends another wave of heat through him.
When you lean down, he stops breathing for a second, half-lidded eyes watching you as you smearing some more lubricant around the head and then lick your fingers after.
“Are you going to put it into your mouth?” he asks, voice heavy with lust.
You put your index finger into your mouth and slowly pulls it away. “Should I?”
Hyunjin forces himself to stay calm after watching that and manages to put on a smirk. “Not sure you can take it though,” he says with a challenging tone.
You only reply with low, flirty giggles and you drop your body lower until your chest hovering above his thighs. You put a hand over him, resting your head on it as your hand mindlessly playing with his cock, taking your time with it. Finger lightly tracing the shape, thumb pressing on the little slit on the tip as you watch it with almost bored eyes.
He scoffs a laugh, watching you treat his cock like a mere toy but fuck, that is just so fucking hot. He doesn’t know you have this wild side of you and wishes he’d see it often in the future.
“You’re making a mess of it,” he protests, voice rough around the edges. “You should clean it up.”
You lift your head and then nonchalantly shrug. “Maybe I should.”
And with that, you lean in and start licking the tip. Your tongue swirls around it repeatedly, licking the lubricant clean before dragging it down his shaft. You tilt your head to the other side, doing the same thing on the other side. The hold around him tighten just slightly as you lift his length, keeping it up as you head for the base, teasing his knob by lightly sucking on it.
“Fuck, baby,” he blurts out. He’s pretty sure you feel him twitching in your hand just now, clearly not expecting that.
You pull back with a sly smile on your face and you give him no time to recover as you put him into your mouth. You don’t go easy on him, you hollowed out your cheeks and suck him hard. A hand compensates the rest that you can’t take.
“Oh, fuck, look at that mouth…” he hisses through his gritted teeth. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice. A surrender he didn’t mean to give. Hands straining against the handcuffs like he could break away from the sheer will alone.
Just as he starts to sink into it, to the feel of your mouth around him and the way you please, just as he’s about to give in completely, you stop and pull back. He almost sighs out of frustration. Almost.
“Wait,” you say lightly, like you’ve just thought of something. “I need to get on a better position.”
You don’t wait for him to ask or say anything, you crawl over him and turn, straddling him again, knees bracing each side of his waist, but this time, your back is facing him. You glance over your shoulder, eyes glinting with something playful, something a little wicked.
“Enjoy the view.”
Hyunjin’s fingers curl again, instinct taking over as he strains against the restraint only to be met with the sharp, unyielding reminder of metal against wood. “Fuck…” he exhales under his breath, half a groan, half a laugh, because you’re right there and he can’t even touch you.
A soft, almost mocking laugh slipped out of you as you turn your head back and then, you lean down. Again, not giving him time to brace himself as you take him into your mouth.
The feeling of your mouth alone is enough to drive him mad but god, you know how to take it further by intentionally jutting your ass higher, exposing your cunt, soaking wet with arousal, giving him a view you know he can’t do anything about.
Instinctively, he lifts his head, leaning forward as much as he can, just enough to put his mouth on you, but failed. He swears under his breath, strained laugh following right after.
His head falling back for a second before lifting again, strained his neck forward, trying to reach you, even just a little. He barely gets anywhere before gravity wins, dropping him back onto the pillow with a frustrated groan. And it frustrates him so much because you’re so close, yet out of his reach.
“You’re so wet, baby. You’re dripping for me,” he sighs, voice rough, edged with something dangerously close to desperation.
The chain rattles again when his hands flex, a sharp inhale catching in his chest as he fights the urge to just grab you, pull you down, close the distance himself.
You seem to have finally noticed his struggle as you pause for a second and glance over your shoulder. “You okay back there?” you ask too casually.
He lets out a breathless laugh, eyes narrowing slightly. “You think?” he shoots back, but there’s no harshness to it. Just heat, just frustration tangled up with want.
You only smile and then you’re right back to it, like nothing happened. Mouth sucking hard, tongue tickling the tip, hand wrapped tightly around the base, endlessly pleasing him.
Hyunjin’s head falls back again, a deeper groan slipping out now as his control starts slipping through his fingers. He shifts under you, restless, unable to stay still anymore, the tension in him coiling tighter and tighter.
When he opens his eyes, the sight of your dripping cunt tantalizes him once more. “Let me have you on my mouth. Let me taste you,” he says in a rush, voice rough and barely held together like he needs it. Urgently needs it.
You pause again, letting go of him with a loud pop and looking at him with your lips glistening wet. “What was that?” you ask, like you didn’t hear him.
He lets out a disbelieving huff, almost laughing despite himself. “Want you on my mouth,” he says without stuttering.
That gets you smirking and swiftly, you turn anyway, shifting until you’re facing him again, straddling him like before—except now, his view is filled with you, your face, your eyes, that expression that tells him you’re enjoying every second of this. Your hand comes up, thumb brushing lightly over his lips, tracing the shape of them in a way that makes his breath quivers.
“You want me on your mouth, you say?” you murmur softly.
He nods immediately, no hesitation, lips parting slightly beneath your touch. “Yeah, I do.”
You lean closer, hovering just above him, close enough that he can feel your breath. “Say it properly,” you whisper.
Hyunjin’s patience has run thin and he breaks whatever composure he had left. “I want your wet pussy on my mouth and ride it endlessly,” both his voice and his gaze don’t waver as he says it.
You smile, satisfied with what you heard but you take your time after that, making him wait, to let it sink in, to let the anticipation stretch until it almost hurts.
“Okay,” you finally answer and a beat later, you add, “But only for a bit.”
He nods immediately, almost too quickly, like he’s afraid you’ll take it back if he hesitates. And when you move closer, when his world narrows down to just you, his eyes darkening and completely focused on you.
You slowly lower yourself on him and his head tilts up instinctively, meeting you halfway, taking whatever you give without question, without restraint. There’s no hesitation in him now—only want, only the need to feel you, to be this close.
His hands pull again against the cuffs, useless, but he doesn’t even care anymore. Not when he finally gets what he wants. Not when he finally has you like this. Not when your wet pussy presses on his mouth.
A hand gripped the headboard to steady yourself and the other grabs at the crown of his hair, tugging at it as you’re moving your hips, riding his mouth as you please. When he darts his tongue out, you switch into pulsating your hips against him, letting his tongue fucking your little hole.
“Oh, god…” you breathlessly moan with your head tilted back, overwhelmed.
He smirks against your flesh and opens his mouth wider, taking more of you, letting your essence flooding his mouth. Breathing become second in his priorities and what comes first is you, you and you. And just as quickly as it builds, you pull away.
Hyunjin exhales sharply, a quiet protest slipping out before he can stop it, his head falling back again, chest rising and falling unevenly. “Just a little bit more,” he breathlessly mutters, licking at his lower lip after.
You don’t submit to his wish but instead, you get off of him and lay down beside him. Half of your body overlaps him, hand reaching for his chin and turn his head your way, leaning in to press your lips against him. Then you’re kissing him, slowly yet passionately, like you’re making up for it.
He responds immediately, kissing you back and deepening it, tasting himself on you as you’re tasting yourself on him, and it does something to him that’s almost overwhelming. His hands flex again, frustrated, wanting to hold you properly.
As your lips continue locked with his in a heated kiss, your hand moving down south, finding his stiff member and begin slowly stroking on it
When the kiss breaks, he exhales against your lips, still close, still hovering. “Are you going to let me out of these now?” he asks, hopeful, but still edged with that same heat.
You softly smile at him and for a second, he thinks you might. But then you pull away and say, “Not yet.”
He lets out a soft groan, head dropping back again. But you completely ignore that, already reaching for the box again, pulling something else out this time. A pack of condom.
“Let’s put this one first,” you say, holding it up. “Just to be safe.”
Hyunjin watches every second of it. The careful way you tear the foil, slower than necessary like you’re aware he’s looking. His head rests back against the pillow but his eyes continue tracking your hands as you put it on him next.
You put so much focus on it, a crease formed between your brows like you can’t mess this up. Using your finger, you roll the rubber down his length.
“You’re getting good at that,” he mutters, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
You don’t even look up. Just finish what you’re doing with that same quiet concentration before answering, almost casually, “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”
That earns a low chuckle from him, something amused and disbelieving, but it fades the moment you crawl back over him and your lips meet his again. There’s something about the kiss now, it’s not rushed, not frantic, just… warm and deep and consuming in a different way.
He melts into it despite himself, tilting his head, chasing it when you shift, trying to pull you closer even when he can’t.
When you pull away, he chases after your lips. “Are you going to let me out of these now?” he asks, softer now.
You press a quick kiss to his lips only to say, “No.”
And just like that, he drops his head back with a helpless groan. But he doesn’t fight it anymore. Not when you settle over him again and grab the bottle of edible lubricant, squeezing the content onto your palm. Then you rub it all over his cock.
He shudders, hips jerking for a fraction and every reaction only seems to amuse you more, and he can see it now. The way your lips curve, the way your eyes flick up to check on him like you’re studying him. And yeah, he’s done for.
He exhales sharply when you begin stroking him again, hands tightening uselessly against the cuffs, the soft clink of metal punctuating the moment as he sinks back into the pillow.
There’s no winning here. Not when you’re like this.
“When are you going to let me go?” he asks, almost like a whine, like he knows it might get to you.
You lean in, close enough that he thinks you’re going to kiss him, but you stop with your lips hovering just a breath away from his. “Until I’m done,” you murmur.
Something about that certainty, the confidence undoes him. His gaze stays locked on yours, unwavering, even as you scoot closer, allowing you to rub his length against your wetness, pressing the tip on your clit.
Then, you slightly lift yourself as you positioning his cock into your entrance. Without the slightest of hesitation, you ease yourself down on him, pausing after an inch or two, letting out a breathless moan of pain and pleasure.
Hyunjin can’t look away. His eyes stuck to the way you’re taking more and more of him into you. The tension coiled inside him now, jaw tightening briefly before relaxing again, eyes focused on the way he’s disappearing into you. He lets himself fall into the feel of you, the warmth and tightness, into the way you easily take all of him like you were made for him.
To calm himself down, Hyunjin deeply inhales air before letting it out in one long, shaky exhale. “Look at you now… you take me so damn well,” he sweetly praises.
Instead of answering, you’re putting your hands on his chest, lowly giggling and moaning like something tickles you. A foolish, satisfied grin filled your face.
“Have you always been this tight,” he sighs, subtly rolling his hips to feel you around him. “Or it’s because I haven’t fucked you in so long?”
You don’t deny nor confirm, but you suddenly clench around him, earning a raw groan from him. A smirk tugging at you lips as you begin rolling your hips in slow, circular motions, making his groans grow louder and unrestrained now. A moment later, you move by pulsating your hips against him.
Hyunjin keeps his eyes on you, the way his cock slips in and out of you, the way your breasts bouncing along to your movements, making him once again, uselessly trying to break away from the cuffs that restrained him.
The sound of your breathless, sultry moans that’s echoing in the room doesn’t help, he’s completely into this intimacy that feels less physical, more emotional. And because it’s not just the feeling—it’s you. The way your expression shifts, the way your confidence flickers into something more vulnerable for just a moment, the way you stay right there with him, holding his gaze like this is something shared, not one-sided.
He stays where he is, telling himself to be present in this moment with eyes looking at you in admiration and want. He puts aside his needs, letting you have him, letting you take what you want from him. And he can see the way you tirelessly moving, chasing for it.
When the tension finally peaks and you come around him, he watches you through it, doesn’t look away, doesn’t miss a second of it. Because that’s what he wanted, just you, like this, with him.
When you melt against him, your body warm and pliant on top of his, your breathing uneven, matching his in soft, staggered rhythm. He lets his head fall back for a second, eyes closing, trying to steady himself but it doesn’t last long. Not when you’re right there. Not when he can feel you like this, close and real and his.
He needs to touch you, holds you so he nudges his forehead lightly against yours. “Can you let me go now?” he murmurs, voice turning breathless at the end of the sentence.
You lift your head just enough to look at him, eyes heavy-lidded, lips curved in that slow, knowing smile and he already knows you’re going to say yes before you do. “Okay.”
You grab the keys from the nightstand, eyes half-focused as you unlock it until there’s the soft click of the cuffs.
The second they fall away, his hands are on you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you down against him, holding you tight like he’s been waiting for this, like he’s been patient for far too long. His lips find yours again, kissing you deeper, claiming.
As he keeps your mouth busy with kisses, his hand reaches down between your bodies, taking his cock and slips it between your legs, rubbing it against your heating wetness. He feels the little, breathless gasps you make against his mouth. It drives him further, impatient to be inside you again and he does, slipping his stiff member back into you in one smooth slide until he’s completely buried in you again.
He softly groans into your mouth, feeling you still quivering from your previous orgasm. His hands slide along your back and move sideways, taking your hands in him and then folds them together. He keeps them there, grounding you against him as his lips trail the column of your throat and jaw, and only to return to your lips, hastily kissing you.
You laugh softly against his mouth and mutters, “Been waiting for that, huh?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he begins moving his hips, bucking into you from under. Soon, the sound of your shared breaths mixing with the squelching sounds of his cock ramming into you, slow but purposeful.
“Missed you. Missed the way you feel,” he sighs into the curve of your neck, breath hot and tickling. “And the way you cling to my cock.”
From those words alone, you clench around him tighter, moaning his name in incoherent, breathless pleads for more —of this, of him. And of course, he’ll give it to you. Anything for you.
Everything that follows feels less like a game and more like something inevitable. Like all that tension, all those moments before, have finally found somewhere to go. His movements are no longer restrained, no longer careful in the same way—they’re certain, driven by the way you respond to him, the way you cling to him, the way your breath turns ragged.
And honestly, Hyunjin can’t hold himself back anymore so he finally, finally lets himself go with your name caught somewhere between a breath and a whisper.
Afterward, he brings your hands and lets them fall round his shoulders as he puts his around you, holding you close like you’re not already pressed onto him.
You lift your head, mouth instinctively finding his and taking it for an earned, slow kiss, a kiss that guides him to gradually come down from his high. When you pull away, you pull away with a soft smile. “Have you always come this fast or is it because we haven’t fucked for so long?”
This is your way to get back at him and he lets out a breathless laugh in response, a little tired and still undone. “Both,” he shamelessly answers.
You laugh at that, sending his body shaking along with your laughter. It feels warm and nice as his arm stays wrapped around you, hand resting at your back, thumb tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin. You fit there too easily. Like you’ve always known the shape of him.
Hyunjin tilts his head slightly, cheek brushing against your hair, eyes half-lidded as he stares at the ceiling. “You’re a lot to handle, you know that?” he says with a smile still lingering on his lip. A lazy, satisfied smug.
He feels your quiet laugh against his chest before he hears it. “You’re just saying that because you lost.”
His scoff is more breath than anything. His fingers pause for a second before resuming their slow drawing on your skin. “Lost?” he echoes, like the word doesn’t quite sit right with him.
You shift just enough to look at him, chin propped lightly against his chest, eyes curious but already amused—like you’re waiting for whatever nonsense he’s about to say next. “Yes. You lost, sir,” you playfully say.
Hyunjin looks at you, the way your hair is a little messy, lips still soft and flushed, eyes warm and bright in a way that makes him take a second to imprint this into the back of his head. He exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Still unfair though,” he says after a moment, tone light and teasing. “You set me up from the start.”
You scoff softly, nudging his chest. “You agreed to play.”
“Didn’t know the stakes were this high.”
“That’s because you don’t read the rules.”
He chuckles at that, the sound rumbling beneath your ear. “Wouldn’t have changed my answer anyway.”
“Since when do you care about the rules anyway,” you conclude, easily resting your head on his chest like you’ve decided that it’s your safe place.
For once, Hyunjin doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence. He just stays with you. His hand drifts lazily along your arm, then back again, grounding himself in the simple fact that you’re here, still close, still warm against him.
“Next time, I’m picking the game,” he suddenly declares.
You tilt your head slightly, smiling against his chest. “Sure you are.”
He smiles too, eyes closing for a second as he rests his cheek against your hair again.
But his arm doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens just a little like he’s not quite ready to let you go yet. And maybe he won’t be. Not anytime soon.
-
The next morning, you wake up to the warmth seeping from behind you, the weight of an arm draped securely around your waist and then the faint brush of lips against your shoulder… your neck… light and almost lazy, like whoever’s behind you has nowhere else to be.
You hum softly, still half-asleep, shifting just enough to tuck yourself closer.
Noticing it, Hyunjin exhales against your skin, amused. “So you’re awake,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep, lips ghosting along your shoulder again.
You don’t answer right away. Just tilt your head slightly, giving him more space without even thinking about it. “Mm… depends. Are you going to keep doing that?”
His low chuckles vibrating through you. “Probably.”
That’s enough of an answer. You turn slowly in his arms, eyes still heavy with sleep, and find him already looking at you with messy hair, eyes soft, lips curved into that small, sleepy smile that feels too attractive for how early it is. Or late. You don’t even know what time it is anymore.
His hand comes up, brushing your hair away from your face, thumb lingering along your cheek. “Morning,” he says.
You huff a quiet laugh. “Pretty sure it’s not morning.”
“Still counts.”
You don’t argue because he leans in and softly kisses you like he’s easing into it instead of chasing anything. It lingers just long enough to make your chest feel warm before he pulls back, forehead resting lightly against yours.
And just like that… the day starts.
-
The rest of the vacation turns into a blur after that.
You’re in the passenger seat with the windows down, wind tugging at your hair while Hyunjin drives with one hand on the wheel and the other lazily resting on your thigh. Music plays low in the background and every now and then, he glances over at you like he’s checking you’re still there. Like you might disappear if he doesn’t.
But here you are, choosing to stay. In this. With him.
You wander through little streets you’ve never seen before, duck into random shops just because something in the window catches your eye. You try things on, hold things up to him, laugh when he gives you opinions you didn’t ask for.
“You’re unhelpful,” you tell him at one point.
“I like everything on you,” he easily replies.
You roll your eyes, but you don’t put the item back.
-
In every place you visit, Hyunjin makes sure to take photos, documenting everything, every moment. Of the sea, of the sky, of random corners that feel oddly beautiful and of each other. He catches you mid-laugh more than once, camera lifted before you can hide it, and you groan every time.
“Delete that.”
“No.”
“Hyunjin—”
“It’s good.”
“Because you like my annoyed face more than anything, huh?”
“Yep.”
When it gets too hot and the sea looks too tempting, you both end up in the water. The ocean water somehow feels cool against your skin but not biting. You splash him first this time, unprovoked, and he stares at you like he’s offended. Then immediately retaliates.
It turns into a mess of laughter and water and hands grabbing at each other to stay upright, neither of you really trying to win anything.
Just trying to stay close.
-
By the time night falls, you’re both exhausted in the good kind. Yet, you always get each other in the best way. In the best, most seductive way.
Some nights, he has you bent over the edge of the bed, lips making a trail of kisses down your spine before he enters you from behind, one hand pressed onto your shoulder, pining you down as he thrusts into you, and not stopping until you fall apart around him.
Some other nights, you barely make it back to the bed. Once, you settled onto the sofa, clothes littering the hotel floor, limbs tangled, a cushion propped under you, giving him that delicious angle to thrust into you deeper. Though it doesn’t stop you from asking him to get deeper inside you.
The second him, your hands braced against the floor-to-ceiling window, your breath fogging the glass as you moan from the way Hyunjin hungrily eating you from behind, tongue jamming into your hole as one hand curve around, fingers skilfully circling on your clit. Your legs shake as you come into his mouth and he doesn’t wait, he turns you around, an arm lifts you and keeps you off the floor, one hand impatiently lining his cock with your entrance and once he’s fully sheathed in your warm, tight walls, he fucks you tirelessly, making you loudly moaning that you sure whoever stays in the next room could hear it.
And in each time, the room eventually fades into background noise and you end up in each other’s arms. You learn that the only thing that matters is the way he holds you, the way he stays close and most importantly, choosing to stay.
And each time, before sleep gets to you, you think about how easy this feels. How right.How you wish, just for a second, maybe longer… That life could stay like this.
-
You don’t realize how quickly it’s ending until you start gathering your things. It hits you somewhere between folding a shirt and setting aside the small souvenirs you’ve picked up over the past few days. You move slowly, almost reluctantly because something in you resists finishing it.
“Already packing?” Hyunjin’s voice drifts from behind you.
You glance over your shoulder, offering a small shrug. “Just… putting things together. I’ll pack later.”
He leans against the wall, watching you in silence like he understands exactly what you’re doing and why. After a moment, he offers you a comforting smile and asks, “Want to go out and watch the sunset?”
You keep your suitcase open, half-packed and ditch it entirely. “Sure,” you answer without thinking, already getting on your feet.
The beach greets you again like it always has. The sand is cool beneath you as you sit, shoulders brushing, hands naturally lacing together like it’s something you’ve always done. The sky is painted in warm hues, the sun slowly dipping lower, stretching the moment as if it’s giving you time.
You lean slightly into him and softly sigh. “Can’t believe this is the last day,” you say, a little incredulous, a little reluctant.
Hyunjin lets out a quiet breath beside you. “Yeah.”
You turn your head just enough to look at him. “We spent it well though, right?” There’s a hint of something in your voice like you need to hear it.
“Yeah,” he says again, softer this time. Then he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, offering comfort as best as he can.
You smile into it and when you pull back, you rest your head on his shoulder, watching as the sun sinks lower and lower until it finally disappears beneath the horizon, marking that another day has gone.
-
The two of you decide to have dinner out, probably something special to commemorate the moment. You walk side by side, fingers loosely lacing together until they eventually intertwine without either of you making a big deal out of it.
After browsing through some restaurants and their menus, you settle on one that seems exactly like what you’ve been craving.
“I’d love the chicken pesto pasta for dinner,” you mutter, getting hungry just from the picture of it.
Hyunjin’s eyes are still scanning the menu as he comments, “Yeah, that looks nice.”
“We could share the steak,” you add as he flips into a new page.
“Good plan,” he says with a smile.
After a mutual agreement and strategically planned dinner meals, the two of you walk up to the waiter. “Table for two, please!” Hyunjin politely says.
The waiter offers an apologetic smile as she says, “Sorry, we’re fully booked tonight.”
The excitement inside you deflates and turns into a frown, turning to Hyunjin like he somehow could fix it. “I really wanted that…”
He patiently and softly smiles at you. “I’m sure we’ll find somewhere else to have dinner.”
You let out a short, heavy sigh before accepting it. “Okay.”
He doesn’t miss the way you’re still frowning so he leans in and kisses you without warning.
You lowly gasp in surprise and crack a laugh, feeling lifted up already.
“Let’s go,” he says, taking your hand, fingers threading through yours again. “We’ll find something better.”
You let him pull you along but three steps later, you hear a voice calling for you. “Hey!”
You and Hyunjin turn almost in sync and the second you recognize them, your face lights up.
“Jules—Diane!”
They look just as delighted, already moving toward you, arms open for quick hugs that feel oddly familiar despite how little time you’ve actually spent together. “Well, look at this! Our favorite couple,” Jules beams.
You and Hyunjin laugh at the same time, instinctively. “It’s so nice to see you again,” you say with a bright smile.
“Aren’t you guys getting dinner?” Diane asks, hand vaguely gesturing toward the restaurant.
“Well, yeah. But it’s fully booked,” you answer.
“We have a reservation. We can share the table,” Diane immediately offers.
This time, Hyunjin cuts in by kindly refusing the offer. “Oh, no. It’s okay. You guys should enjoy your dinner.
“Oh, nonsense,” Diane waves it off immediately. “I’m sure they can arrange something and make it dinner for four.”
You kindly refuse again, smiling as you do. “Oh—you should enjoy that then, we can—”
“Also, because we’re sick of each other. We really need to talk to other people,” Jules playfully says with a serious face.
“No, it’s okay,” you insist gently, shaking your head. “Really, we don’t want to—”
“It’s settled,” Diane says, already turning back toward the restaurant like the conversation is over. “We’ll just tell them.”
“Diane—” Jules laughs, but she’s already hooking her arm through yours, tugging you along anyway. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
You glance back at Hyunjin, caught between protest and amusement. He just shakes his head lightly, lips curved into a small smile like he saw this coming and then follows without a word.
-
Dinner settles into something easy and comfortable in a way that feels almost surprising, considering how all of this started.
The four of you sit around the table, laughter woven in between bites of food and sips of wine, stories overlapping, little interruptions that don’t feel rude—just… lived-in. You find yourself leaning in more than you usually would, listening, talking, laughing without overthinking it.
Jules dabs the corner of her lips with her napkin before smiling at the two of you. “So, what have you two been up to all week?” she asks, eyes bright with curiosity.
You glance at Hyunjin instinctively before answering, like the memories are shared between you. “A bit of everything. Beach, shopping, exploring… eating way too much.”
Hyunjin hums in agreement beside you. “She’s not exaggerating.”
You nudge him lightly under the table. “This is actually our last day. We’re flying home tomorrow,” you share with a melancholic smile.
Jules’ expression drops into something genuinely sympathetic. “Already?”
Diane sighs, shaking her head. “That’s just rude. Time shouldn’t move that fast on vacation.”
You laugh softly, but there’s a quiet truth in it. “I think it’s because we enjoyed it too much,” you admit.
There’s a brief pause and then Diane leans forward slightly, eyes flicking between you and Hyunjin, a playful glint returning. “So…” she says, dragging the word just a little, “are you two still co-workers?”
You choke slightly on your drink. Heat rushes to your face instantly, your mind flashing back to earlier where Hyunjin kissed you and they must have seen everything. You glance at him, letting him answer this one.
“Yeah,” he says casually, reaching for his glass. “Still co-workers.”
Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Sadly, I still need the paycheck.”
The table bursts into laughter. Diane shakes her head, smiling knowingly. “Oh, please. There’s definitely something going on here.”
You skip on answering again. You just smile a small, shy smile, a little caught.
“There is,” he says lightly like it’s no big deal. “I’ve liked her for a while but she didn’t know it.”
You keep your calm, eyes on the glass of wine you’re holding as you’re listening to his side of story.
“But once she did,” he continues, like he’s telling a harmless story. “She’s playing hard to get.”
Your head automatically turn toward him and stare at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
Jules and Diane laugh again, clearly enjoying every second of this. Diane looks at you then, softer this time, her smile warm as she says, “You’re doing the right thing.”
You smile at that before looking at Hyunjin again and give his knee a gentle slap under the table, a playful warning. But you can see that it doesn’t affect him whatsoever as he only grins in reaction.
By the time dessert comes, you’re comfortably full, but you still take another bite anyway. It’s too good not to.
Hyunjin excuses himself to the restroom and you’re watching him go for a second before turning back to your plate.
Jules notices your expression immediately. “Glad you’re enjoying the food,” she says with a soft smile.
You quickly wipe your mouth with your napkin, a little embarrassed. “Everything is just… really good.”
Diane nods approvingly. “Worth the trouble earlier.”
Jules looks at you, there’s hesitation in her eyes but she eventually leans in anyway. “I hope you don’t mind me asking. But … what took you this long?”
You put down your dessert spoon. “Pardon me?”
“I mean, I don’t know him that well but I can see that Hyunjin is great. And that boy is in love with you,” Jules explains, rather too seriously.
You’re a little taken aback by the mention of that word. Love. “I wouldn’t say—”
“He’s got these twinkles in his eyes every time he looks at you,” Diane cuts in before sipping her wine.
“So why do you hesitate much?” Jules asks again.
Your fingers curl lightly around your glass as you take a sip of water, buying yourself a second to think. You look at Diane and Jules and realize that you’ve only known them in matter of hours, but you feel comfortable to share openly.
“I think…” you start slowly, eyes dropping to the table for a moment, “I had this idea in my head that I’m… hard to love.”
The words come out lighter than you expect despite the fact that you’ve never shared this with anyone before. “And like… easy to leave.”
The table quiets like your openness, your honestly dazzle them. Jules reaches over without hesitation, her hand resting over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know it can feel that way. But that’s not the truth,” she says, voice as soft as her gaze. “There’s no such thing as someone being hard to love. Sometimes people just don’t try hard enough. Or they’re not patient enough to learn how.”
Something in your chest loosens at that. You hadn’t realized how tightly you were holding onto it and how you let it held you back from getting what you want, what you deserve.
“You’re not hard to love,” Jules assures you once again, her other hand tapping gently at the back of your hand now.
“You know, I believe Hyunjin would give you the world,” Diane suddenly says, slightly off topic. But then she adds, “All you have to do is ask for it.”
You take a second to process their words and let them sink into you. Then you nod. “Thank you,” you genuinely say in gratitude.
You let out a short laugh of disbelief because you didn’t think that you would hear these words from two strangers and yet, they seem to know what you needed to hear. Like it’s meant to be.
“Were you talking about me?” Hyunjin says when he returns, sliding back into his seat and looking the three of you, suspiciously amused.
Diane doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
You and Jules burst out laughing. Diane follows after sipping her wine.
Hyunjin blinks, caught off guard for half a second before he laughs too. “Wow.”
“We also talked if we should do a round of drinks since this is your last day,” Jules adds, already opening the cocktails menu.
“That might be a problem,” Hyunjin says with a faint grimace.
You glance at him, sensing that he’s doing something. Something that is most likely mischievous. “What did you do?”
He shrugs and then digs into his dessert. “I already paid for everything.”
Jules and Diane immediately soften at that.
“That’s very kind of you,” Jules says.
Diane turns to you dramatically. “Marry him already.”
You laugh, shaking your head.
Jules flags down a waiter anyway. “Well, the drinks are on us,” she insists.
Hyunjin doesn’t even argue and instead, he playfully says, “Let’s make it three rounds then.”
“Deal,” Jules says in agreement, holding her hand out at him.
Hyunjin takes it and shakes it. “No takeback,” he says.
The table fills with laughter again and you realize that this is exactly how you wanted the night to end.
-
There’s another couple in the elevator, standing near the panel and rapidly talking to each other in a language you don’t understand, and you can’t tell if they’re just talking or arguing. You decide not to mind someone else’s business and focus on how content you feel tonight, how the night couldn’t have ended better than this.
Then you feel the way Hyunjin’s hand finds yours and laces it together with yours. You turn to meet his eyes only for him to begin steering you toward the corner until your back meets the wall.
He steps in close and your breath catches just a little as he stops right in front of you, leaving only inches between your bodies. You look up at him and he’s already looking at you. A smile etched on his face, knowing and a little dangerous.
You swallow, trying to keep your composure. “That was…” you start, forcing your voice to stay light, “a really nice way to end the last day.”
He nods once, eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah.”
You try again, grasping for something normal, less intense. “It’s a shame we still have to pack after this.”
He slowly shakes his head and then, leans in until his mouth hovers near your ear, close enough that you feel it before you even process the words. “There’s a better way to end the night,” he murmurs, voice is low and warm, sending a quiet shiver down your spine.
You try not to react, try not to give in so easily. But then he leans in again, just a fraction closer, and this time, his breath brushes your ear as he whispers, “Way better.”
When he pulls back, just enough for you to see his face again, that grin is still there with mischief written all over it, like he already knows exactly what he’s doing to you. And worse,
like he knows it’s working.
-
After everything that’s already happened between you. After the way his eyes have seen and admired your body, hands have learned the shape of it. You don’t expect to the nerves, they’re subtle yet slowly creeping in as you stand in the bathroom, fingers fixing the ties of your bikini. You exhale slowly to calm yourself down and reach for the bathrobe, wrapping yourself in it before stepping out.
The balcony doors are open and the night air greets you first, cool and salted, brushing against your skin. You linger there on the doorway, one hand braced against the glass door as you find Hyunjin is already in the tub. His arms are stretched along the edge, posture relaxed. Water glows softly around him under dim lights, tracing the line of his back muscles, the broad shoulder, the slope of his back. His hair is tied up, messy, a few damp strands clinging to the nape of his neck.
You stay there and take a moment to take him in, the way he looks like a Greek God with the sea stretches against him, dark and endless, catching the half-moon in broken reflections.
It’s like he senses your eyes on him, he slowly turns his head and lights up when he sees you. “You made me wait,” he says, turning to the side, one hand draping over the edge of the tub.
You suddenly get flustered, like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. You recover quickly, stepping toward him, lifting a brow. “Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”
His grin answers that for him, running his wet hand through his hair.
You untie the robe, letting it fall open before slipping it off, and his eyes slightly widen at the reveal — the white bikini you’re wearing underneath.
He hurriedly holds his hand out, guiding you into the tub and you take it, kicking your slippers off your feet before finally putting a foot into the tub and then another. The water welcomes you instantly, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you lower yourself into it, heat curling around your body until you’re submerged, weightless in a way that feels almost unreal.
You barely settle before he pulls you onto his lap, your back meets his solid chest and you melt into it without thinking like your body already knows the shape of him, the way you fit.
His arms wrap around you, one draped low across your abdomen, the other circling you fully, holding you in place. Holding you with him.
All of a sudden, the nerves vanish and fade into the water.
His lips brush your shoulder first and then higher, along your neck, each touch lingering just enough to make you feel it twice. You lowly giggle as he places ticklish kisses on that sensitive skin behind your ear. Instead of stopping, he gently grabs your chin to turn your head to the side, allowing him to capture your lips in his.
The kiss is deep and unrushed in a way that steals the air from your lungs more effectively than anything hurried ever could. His tongue tirelessly coaxing you to part your lips open, the second you don, he sucks on your tongue before twirling it with his. He deepens the kiss once more and it gradually softens from there. By the time he pulls back, you’re gasping for air, chest rising and falling against his.
He lets you settle again, arms tightening, keeping you close to him.
You sink into him, head tipping back against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded. “This feels nice,” you murmur.
He hums, low and pleased, lips brushing your neck again like punctuation.
Your hand lifts, finding his jaw blindly, fingers grazing his skin. “We should’ve done this every day.”
Another hum. Agreement. Or maybe just contentment. He shifts slightly, turning his head to the other side of your neck, burying his face there like he’s claiming the space and you let him.
For a long moment, the two of you stay like that. The water laps quietly. The ocean beyond mirrors the sky. The world narrows to warmth, to the steady rhythm of two people not needing to say anything.
Until Hyunjin opens his mouth and curiously asks, “What makes you think you’re hard to love?”
You stiffen just a little, realizing that Hyunjin probably listened in on the deep talk you shared with Jules and Diane earlier. Your head turns sharply, eyes narrowing in a playful glare. “You’re not supposed to eavesdrop on our talk. Our girls’ talk.”
He grins, unapologetic. He probably didn’t mean to and just happened to be there when you shared.
You click your tongue at him. You’re not actually mad, just surprised that he heard it, that he heard it this soon. But he’s not a stranger and eventually, he’d know and you want him to understand.
So you sigh softly, gaze drifting out toward the sea. “I used to think… that love is something you have to earn. That you have to give… more. Do more. Be more. That you have to greatly sacrifice yourself for it.”
You rest your hand on his forearm, fingers tighten slightly over it. “Otherwise… they leave.”
He lets go of your hand only to catch it in his, intertwining them together and rests it over your chest. And to your surprise, he says, “Yeah, you weren’t easy.”
You huff a quiet laugh, slightly offended. “Huh?”
“You know… with your plans,” he adds, brushing his nose lightly against your temple, “your schedules… your rules.”
You smile despite yourself, feeling called out and slightly embarrassed.
When he speaks again, he waits until your eyes looking at him. “But you you’re not hard to love,” he says, voice is as soft as his gaze.
You nod, slowly. Because you’re starting to believe that. Because maybe it was never about being hard to love. Just being loved the wrong way.
His lips press gently to your temple. “All you have to do is let it happen.”
You turn your head slightly, looking at him. “Okay,” you say, and really mean it.
“And yes, I’d give you the world if you ask for it,” he adds with a playful grin.
You softly smile at that and before it can fade, he captures it with a kiss, so soft it almost feels like a promise rather than a kiss. It lingers long enough to make your chest tighten. Long enough to make something inside you shift.
When he pulls away, your hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing lightly over his skin.
“This vacation changed you,” you tease.
He scoffs softly, dramatically correcting you. “Free vacation.”
“Right,” you say, kissing him again.
This time, you turn on his lap, shifting until you’re facing him, straddling him now, water rippling around you both. You put your hands on his shoulders, staring into the brown of his eyes and Diane was right, you can see the twinkles in them as he looks at you.
A hand comes up to his jaw and tenderly holds the side of his face. Then slowly, you lean in, kissing him with your heart open and letting the content pours into the kiss, into him.
His hands sliding along your sides, over your waist, mapping you out like he’s allowed to now. Like he knows he is. He’s pulling you closer, holding you tighter.
You let yourself fall into it easily. Because it’s him. Because it feels right. Because you don’t want to stop.
When he breaks the kiss, it’s only to drag his mouth lower, lips trailing along your neck. He trails lower still, opening his mouth slightly wider as he places searing little kisses down your chest until he’s buried between your soft mounds.
Instinctively, your hands trail along his shoulders and gather in the back of his neck, fingers tangled in his damp hair. Your breath stutters as he plants his soft lips on the skin before his mouth opens slightly wider to take a mouthful of your flesh and lightly sucking on it.
A low, breathless gasp falls out of your mouth as he yanks down the cup of your bikini, wasting no time to take your hardening nipple into his mouth, tongue circling on it. your hands tangled deeper in his hair, mouth buried in his dark locks as you cradle his head close to your chest.
You’re humming from the feel of his mouth devouring your breast and yet, it doesn’t quite satisfy his hunger. So impatiently, a hand trails up your spine, finding the knot of your bikini straps there, tied on the nape of your neck and clumsily pulling at it until it snaps open. In the end, he takes the whole thing off of you, tossing your wet bikini top aside.
Hyunjin pulls back just enough to look at you, at your bare chest and the way your breasts hung beautifully on your chest, inviting him to touch, to feel. He doesn’t stop himself for using both hands, each one kneading, fingers pinching at the sensitive buds.
You shake your head, looking down at his wide eyes, dark with lust. Half-amused, half-aroused. “Are you trying to put on a show?”
He presses a warm kiss on your sternum and then pulls away with a dazed smile, eyes glinting. “Maybe.”
The answer sends a small, unexpected thrill through you. So you lean in and kiss him, but it only lasts for a few seconds as he breaks the kiss. He shifts his focus back to your chest. Hands pushing them to the middle so he can greedily take both nipples at once.
“Hyunjin…” you breathlessly call, uselessly trying to stop him.
But of course, he pretends not to hear or decides to ignore you completely, his mouth too busy sucking on your breasts, teeth lightly tugging at your nipples just to tease you, making you whimper in reaction.
You gently cup his jaw, tilting his head up just enough for his eyes to meet yours. You run your hand through his hair as you look at him and say, “What don’t we go inside… and I’ll put on a good show for you?”
That works to make him pause, eyebrow raised in curiosity. He slowly detaches his mouth, leaving your nipples wet with his saliva and raw from all of his sucking. He looks at you, lips curving into a smirk.
“Then what are we waiting for?”
-
You barely make it out of the shower without touching him again. It’s ridiculous how quickly the tension comes back, how the heat clings even after the water washes everything clean. Your robe sticks lightly to your skin and Hyunjin’s the same, hair still wet and brushed to the back.
The second you step into the room, your hand finds his, guiding—no, steering—him straight to the bed. He drops onto the edge of the mattress, looking up at you like he already knows he’s about to lose whatever control he thought he had.
You climb onto his lap, knees settling on either side of his hips, and the moment your bodies meet—he exhales, like he’s been holding that breath since the hot tub. Your hands find his face first and then your lips. The kiss lands deep, immediate, like you’re trying to pick up where you left it.
He responds just as quickly, hands coming up to your waist, pulling you closer like he needs to feel all of you at once. The kiss goes on, long enough to blur the line between breath and touch. Until he breaks it and then rests his forehead against yours.
“So… when does the actual show start?” he asks, voice low and a little hoarse.
You click your tongue softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You’re not even ready for it.”
His plush lips curve into a sly smirk. “I’m always ready.”
“Yeah?” you murmur, fingers slipping to the edges of his robe. “Let’s see.”
Your hands work slowly as you untie it and then pull it open just until it drapes around his shoulders. You place a hand on his chest, still warm and damp from the shower. Yet, you lean in without hesitation, placing kisses along his neck, down to his collarbone, letting each touch of your lips on his skin linger just long enough to make him react.
He does. He reacts in sharp inhales and quiet hisses, his grip on your waist tightening.
You pull back and slip the robe off your shoulders until it’s falling away completely, and for a second, his hands just stay on your waist. Like he’s still deciding where to start.
Once he’s decided, his hands move without hesitation. They’re on you, all at once, warm and little greedy. You’re joining him as he once again fondling on your breasts, feeling the way he touches you, feeling yourself. Your head tilting side to side as you humming in delight.
You let go as he leans in, burying his head between your soft mounds and let him stay there, shivering just slightly as he inhales your skin like he couldn’t get enough of your scent.
When he tilts his head up, looking at you again, you catch him off guard with a haste, messy kiss. As you keep his mouth busy, your hand slips between you, finding his cock strained and hot to the touch. His breath stutters against your mouth as you stroke him slowly, thumb circling around the head, feeling him pulsating for you.
A small hum escapes you. Your half-lidded eyes locked with his as you mutter, “Yeah… you’re ready.”
He lets out a soft laugh that doesn’t quite sound like a laugh anymore.
Your hands move to his shoulders, gripping at them firmly as you lift yourself just slightly, positioning his cock to your entrance and then, slowly taking him into you.
Hyunjin stills, his grip tightening on you, mouth dropping open like he’s about to say something but the pleasure overwhelms him, knocking the thoughts out of his head. His eyes flick down, widening at the way you easily ease down yourself on his cock. And then, it hits him.
“Wait,” he says in a rushed tone, his grip is impossibly hard now. “The condom.”
You hush him softly, while continue taking more of him into you. “It’s okay,” you murmur.
There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, like he’s not convinced yet. “But—"
You press a kiss to his lips. A gentle, reassuring kiss. “I’m on the pills. It’s okay,” you calmly say.
Slowly, his grip loosens as he decides to trust you and you do the same, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaning in closer as you take the remaining of his length. You let the distance disappear in a way that feels less like urgency and more like choice. Like you’re both stepping into it together.
Hyunjin’s mouth stays open the whole time, eyes dazed and dark, continuously locked in a heated gaze with yours. A low sound caught somewhere between surprise and something deeper.
The second he’s fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls. You wrap your arms tighter around his shoulder, drawing yourself closer to him until there’s no gap left between your bodies. You press your forehead against his, letting out breathe that more like a soft laugh of relief.
“My god, you feel so good inside me,” you mutter in a hint of disbelief, lips grazing his as you speak.
Hyunjin, still overwhelmed, swallows air and forces himself to say something, do something. A beat later, he glides his hands up, holding you by the ribcage now, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing over the skin. “Is it really okay?” he asks again, voice barely audible, like he’s still processing this.
You laugh softly and then place a soft kiss on his lips. “More than okay,” you answer with a smile.
That seems to be all what he needs to hear. His hands slide up your back, holding you closer. A hand gently curves around the nape of your neck, angling your head slightly to the side as he leans in and kisses you, slower this time, like he’s trying to give himself a chance to catch up.
When you pull away, you put on the softest smile and ask, “So, how does it feel?”
He lets out a quiet exhale, almost a laugh. “You feel… so fucking perfect. So perfect for me.”
That makes you smile and you tilt your head, eyes softly gaze into his eyes. “How much would you rate it?” you ask, playful but edged with curiosity.
He captures your lips in a slow, heated kiss. “Infinite out of ten,” he finally answers after pulling away, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
That also makes you smile and you hastily kiss him, conveying that words couldn’t. You shift slightly on his lap and the slightest movement is enough to remind you of his whole size inside you, filling you, stretching you deliciously.
“I’m going to move, mmh?” you say.
“No, wait,” he says, gripping at you like he wouldn’t let go. “If you move now, I think I’m done for.”
You chuckle at that and kiss him again instead of answering, slow and reassuring, giving him a moment to adjust, to compose himself. And when you finally move, you move just a little, just enough but it draws a reaction out of him that he can’t hide, his head tipping back slightly, grip tightening again.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he sighs, half scolding, half in pleasure.
You keep your rhythm slow and steady, moving your hips in rolling motions and somehow, without the layer of protection, you feel even more sensitive around him. And oh, he just feels so good. Hot and hard, penetrating you deeper and deeper in each passing second.
“You feel so good,” you say again and again, not caring how much you’ve said it before.
It’s so easy to fall into it, into the feeling of him and the way his eyes stay on you, heavy and focused, like he doesn’t want to miss a single second of it. The way your name almost slips from his lips but doesn’t quite make it out.
It’s clear that it’s getting overwhelming for both of you so you pause. You kiss his mouth, deep and messy, lips and tongues crashing together. Once you pulled away, you lean back with one hand still gripping his shoulder as support and then continue moving.
Seeing your breasts bouncing merely inches away from him, he doesn’t skip the chance but cling to it, mouth sucking hard on your nipple like he’s one thirsty man.
You gasp when he sucks too hard, but the added stimulation keeps you going, keeps you moving and tirelessly chasing your high. Your hand slides up to his neck, grounding yourself there as you lean in again, pressing your lips against the top of his head, on his temple and then forehead. Then pull away just slightly, just enough to look down at him.
“I want this to last,” you whisper, voice small and quivering on the edges.
He pulls away with a gasp before lifting his head, looking back into your eyes. A soft smile pulling at his mouth despite everything. “Then let’s stay like this,” he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Forever.”
There’s something in the way he says it. Playful? Yes. But not entirely. You feel that thread of something real, woven into all the heat and closeness. You let yourself believe it that maybe this could last longer than just tonight.
-
You stay there with him, moving slowly, letting the rhythm build instead of chasing it, letting yourself feel every shift, every reaction he gives you. And he gives you plenty.
His hands tighten around you, fingers digging into your skin like he’s trying to keep you right where you are—like he already knows you’re getting close.
You are.
It creeps up on you in waves, soft at first, then stronger, until your breath starts to falter and your grip on him changes without you meaning to.
His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you flush against him, his face dipping into the curve of your neck as if he wants to hide there, breathe you in, anchor himself to you while everything starts to tip over.
“You’re close, mmh?” he lowly asks, almost swallowed against your skin.
But you’re already there, already slipping.
When you hit your high, it pulls a soft, unfiltered sound from you and he holds you through it, closer than before, like he’s not letting you drift too far from him even for a second.
His lips find yours again almost immediately, kissing you deeper. Like he’s chasing you through it. Like he wants to stay right there with you, even as you’re still catching your breath.
“You look so beautiful…” he pauses, brushing his thumb across your cheek, gaze heavy and soft all at once. “Coming around me like this.”
You can only manage a small, breathless smile as you cling to him and trying to steady yourself again.
But his grip shifts, and before you can fully process it, he’s guiding you back until your back meets the bed. He moves with utmost care, almost protective, like he’s making sure you land softly, like nothing about this moment is meant to be rushed.
He hovers over you, eyes searching yours and then he kisses you again. His mouth drifts from yours, trailing down your jaw, your neck and each kiss lighter than before, but somehow just as intense. It’s not about urgency anymore. It’s about staying.
Your fingers find his hair, brushing it back, holding him there when he dips lower, making a long trail of kisses down your front and only stopping when his mouth lands on your still sensitive, still pulsating clit.
He burrows onto the mattress, arms curve under your thighs and makes himself comfortable there, on the space between your legs. Like this is where he lives now.
He takes his time to please you with his mouth, tongue landing small, featherlight licks, lips capturing your clit in soft kisses while his mouth occasionally sucking on it. Just enough to make you restless. Just enough to make your legs tremble and your toes curl.
He lets go only to place kisses on your inner thighs before crawling over you, hovering above you once more. He takes a moment to just admire, one hand gliding down your torso and then settles on the curve of your waist.
“So beautiful, so perfect…” he murmurs in a mix of disbelief and awe. Then he crashes his mouth onto yours, taking your breath away in every brush of his lips against yours.
When he finally settles between your legs again, the tension is thicker and heavier now. He doesn’t rush back into you. Not yet. Just rubbing his length between your slick folds, letting your essence lubricating it. He lets the moment stretch, lets you feel him how hard he is, lets you want it until you can’t help but touch him, guiding his cock to your clit and circling the tip around it. You keep your eyes locked with his as you do and there’s something in the way he looks at you now — he’s almost gone. In the best way.
You push the tip down, aiming it toward your entrance and push it just an inch. And yet, it’s enough to elicit a quiet, low sound he doesn’t even try to hide. You arch your body, letting him feel the way you wrapped around him once more.
Hyunjin sighs, like he’s trying to calm himself down before finally does the rest, pushing forward and penetrating you again. His eyes don’t stray, they focused on the way his length sliding into you little by little. By the time he’s fully bottomed out, he stills. Like he needs to adjust, to steady himself, to not lose it right then and there.
You feel it the way he trembles slightly, the way his hands flex at your sides, the way his breathing changes. And then—
“You take me so easily now,” he murmurs, rough around the edges. His thumb presses on your clit, gently circling and applying just the right pressure on it
You slyly smile in return, lifting your knees higher and cupping your breasts in your hands, giving yourself the extra stimulation your body seeks.
The sight arouses Hyunjin so much that for a brief moment, he just stays there, watching you touching yourself. His hips begin moving then, ever so slowly but the motions only allow him to feel you more. More intense than before.
Hyunjin’s eyes screwed shut for a second like he’s struggling to keep up with what he’s feeling and seeing. When he opens them, they meet you right away. “I fucked you so many times that you’ve taken the shape of me, yeah?” he murmurs, followed by a shaky exhale.
Instead of answering, you put your legs down and around his waists, hands reaching for his shoulders to bring him close until he’s settled on top of you. You kiss him and he kisses you back in the same eagerness, almost sloppy.
And at the same time, Hyunjin keeps moving his hips in rolling motions and it always impresses you how he moves like his body made of fluid, flowing and unrestrained. Each motion measured, like he’s trying to hold onto control while still giving into it.
Praises slipping between kisses—soft murmurs that make you flutter in a way that has nothing to do with the physical anymore. You’re too deep in it now. Not just the feeling.
Him.
The way he’s looking at you. The way he’s holding you. The way this doesn’t feel like just a shared intimate moment—it feels like something more.
Your hands find his, and he laces your fingers together, pressing them into the bed as he quickens the pace, enough to pull another breath from you, enough to bring you right back to that edge again.
“Hyunjin…” you whisper his name.
He hums against your lips, barely pulling away. “Yeah?”
“I’m close…”
The words come out softer, more vulnerable than you expect.
He exhales, pressing his forehead to yours for a brief second before kissing you again. “Just—stay with me a little longer.”
You nod, even if you’re not sure you can. And when he deepens his thrusting, it becomes harder to think about anything else. Harder to hold back.
“I can’t—” you mutter breathlessly, body squirming and quivering. “I can’t hold it back anymore.”
When you finally let go, it takes him with you. There’s no holding it this time, no stopping it. He breaks with a rough, guttural groan that spills out of his mouth as he pulls you closer, burying himself against you, the moment crashing over him just as hard.
The soft, quiet stillness comes after. His forehead rests against yours, breath still uneven, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. He looks at you like he’s seeing something new. Something important.
He waits until your eyes are focused and meeting him. And the he says it.
“I love you.”
The words hang between you for a moment, you let them sink in, let them seep into somewhere deep in your chest. you have the answer but the words feel strange, feel heavy on your tongue. You try anyway, opening your mouth, but he stops with a kiss.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he murmurs, thumb swiping across your lips.
You smile lazily at that. “Well, I don’t want to,” you playfully say.
He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Then don’t.”
But your hand comes up to his cheek, thumb brushing lightly across his skin, your gaze steady on his. And this time, you don’t hesitate.
“But I love you.”
He stills for a second. Like he didn’t expect it. Like he’s not sure he heard it right. And then he breaks into laughter as if he’s trying to release the nerves, the worries and concerns.
And with that, he leans in and kisses you again, body lowering until he’s settled on top of you. Until your bodies fit together. Until your hearts are lying close to each other with mere bones and flesh in between. The hearts that have chosen each other.
Hopefully—
Forever.
-
Hyunjin doesn’t think he’s ever been this aware of silence before. The kind that hums softly, wrapped around the steady drone of the plane, tucked between the quiet breaths you take beside him. The kind that feels comfortable, content.
He shifts slightly in his seat, shoulder brushing yours, just to make sure you’re still there, still real. Because a part of him keeps whispering that this was all too good to be true. Like something his mind would make up just to torture him later.
He exhales slowly, running a hand through his long hair before turning his head and there you are, sitting beside him with legs tucked in just a little, scrolling through your phone with that faint crease between your brows—the one he’s grown ridiculously fond of. The one he used to call annoying. The one he now thinks about at the most inconvenient times.
As if you feel him looking, you glance up and softly smile at him. And just like that, the noise in his head quiets.
You lean closer, talking so low that it feels like it’s just for him. “The pharmaceutical company emailed. They want a review for the couple’s test program.”
“Really?” he asks, one brow lifted.
You nod, already shrugging it off and shoving your phone into your bag. “Let’s just do it later.”
Later. He lingers on that word for a second.Later means this continues.Later means you’re not… done.
You nudge him lightly, already leaning close to his. “Wanna watch something?”
He nods, clearing his throat a little. “Yeah. Let’s finish that movie we didn’t get to watch.”
You hum, already leaning forward to scroll through the in-flight screen, mumbling under your breath. “I don’t even know if they have it…”
A moment later, you look at him and shake your head, lips slightly curled into a pout. “They don’t have it.”
And god, that face. He smiles without meaning to, something soft and helpless slipping through before he can stop it. “Just pick anything.”
You drop your hand to your lap. “No. You pick this time.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh, like he’s been handed something far more serious than choosing a movie. “Alright.”
He scrolls through the options, squinting like he’s studying for an exam. Then, he jokingly mutters, “I don’t think they have porn on this thing.”
Your hand flies to his mouth, muffling him as you half-laugh, half-scold, “Are you insane? There are kids around.”
His eyes widen in mock innocence as he glances around, deliberately dramatic. “I don’t see any.”
“Just pick a movie,” you tell him while gently patting his cheek. “A normal, flight-friendly movie.”
Another moment passed with him scrolling through the movie selection and ends up with something light, a teen comedy movie. You both slip on the headsets, and before the opening scene even finishes, you link your arm through his, head settling comfortably against his shoulder. Like you’ve done it a hundred times. Like you’re going to do it a hundred more.
Hyunjin presses play and for the first half of the movie, the two of you share quiet commentary, soft chuckles, the occasional glance at each other when something particularly dumb happens on screen.
He lets himself sink into it this time, lets himself believe that just because the vacation is over, doesn’t mean it’s over. It’s still happening. You and him.
Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you get quiet and he notices it a little too late. He tilts his head, looking down and as expected, you’re fast asleep. Your face slightly smushed against his arm, lips parted in the softest pout, brows relaxed now, all that focus and awareness melted into something unbearably soft.
He exhales a quiet laugh. “Again?” he murmurs under his breath. But his voice is fond. So, so fond.
Carefully, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your pout. The kiss lingers there for half a second longer than he intended to before pulling back, eyes soft as he stares at your face. Then he reaches up, slipping your headset off, then his.
The movie keeps playing silently for a moment before he pauses it altogether. He straightens on his seat, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer until you’re properly tucked against his side, your head resting more comfortably now against his chest.
You instinctively curl into him, like even in your sleep, you know he’s safe. Like you trust him. Completely. And that means more than anything.
The restlessness fades. Not completely. Because maybe things will change when you land. Maybe work will get in the way. Maybe reality will creep back in. But this isn’t something that disappears the moment the plane touches the ground. He knows that now. He presses his cheek lightly against the top of your head, eyes drifting shut for just a second.
Some things stay the same.
And some things change.
And for once, he’s not afraid of either.
-
Hyunjin doesn’t realize how tightly he’s been holding onto that quiet, fragile feeling until the door clicks open. You step in first and he follows, wheeling both suitcases in with a soft thud against the floor. He turns back to close the door, hand lingering on the handle a second too long like he’s sealing something in, or maybe trying to keep something from slipping away.
When he turns around, you’re already looking at him. Your smile is soft and content, a little tired too, but that’s understandable.
“It’s so nice to be home,” you sigh.
Yeah. It is.
You don’t give him time to sit in it, though. You walk right up to him, slipping a hand to his waist, tugging him closer. The kiss you give him is a quick brush of your lips against him, but his heart flips anyway.
Then you look at him, casual as anything. “Are you hungry?”
He huffs a small laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yeah.”
You grin, reaching up to pat his cheek lightly like he’s done something right. “Can you please order something delicious for us?”
How can he say no when you look at him with a soft gaze and a soft smile?
“Of course,” he answers without argument. He pulls his phone out immediately, scrolling through options while you disappear briefly to set your things down.
By the time the food arrives, you’re both settled at the dining table, still in your travel clothes, too comfortable to care. In between bites of food, the two you talk about the vacation — the rocky beginning, the fun bits, the unexpected things you encountered and discovered.
You talk with such zest and Hyunjin finds himself watching you more than listening sometimes. The way your eyes crinkle, the way your hand gestures mid-story, the way you lean back in your chair when you laugh like you’ve forgotten everything else exists.
He wants to stay here, right in this version of things. Where it’s just you and him, a table between you, shared food, shared stories, no expectations pressing in from the outside. A small, selfish part of him wonders if it’s possible to stretch this moment, make it last just a little longer before reality starts knocking again.
But eventually, the plates are empty and you push your chair back with a quiet sigh, stretching slightly as you stand.
He gets ahead of you, collecting plates and stacking them together. “I’ll do it,” he offers.
“Thanks,” you murmur before walking up to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
And when you pull away, you look at him like you know exactly what that did to him. “I’ll be waiting for you upstairs.”
You say it so casually and don’t say anything else after, but let him figure it out himself.
Hyunjin just stands there with dirty dishes in hand. Brain lagging behind. He watches you cross the living room, grab your bag from the sofa, then head upstairs without a second glance back. Your footsteps fade, followed by the soft sound of a door opening and then closing.
Upstairs? Does that mean you want him in your bedroom?His eyes flick briefly toward the staircase, then back down at the dishes in his hands.
“You’re definitely inviting me,” he says to no one, shaking his head in disbelief.
There’s no point pretending otherwise. Still, he forces himself to finish cleaning, faster and a little rushed, his thoughts already halfway upstairs with you. Because all he can think about is you, up there, waiting for him.
-
Hyunjin pushes the door open with his shoulder, backpack hanging loosely from his hand. He steps into your room, slower than he needs to, like he’s taking it in properly this time.
You’re not there, but he hears the sound of water running from the bathroom.
He lets out a quiet breath, something between relief and anticipation, and walks further in, setting his backpack down by the nightstand before lowering himself onto the edge of the bed.
The room already feels familiar. It’s still in the same layout. The same sheets. The same faint scent that lingers in the air, something that’s just… you. But it feels different.
Last time he was here, he wasn’t supposed to be. He remembers moving around quietly, careful not to leave a trace, like he was borrowing something that didn’t belong to him.
Now? Now he’s sitting here because you told him to come. Because you want him here. Because this is no longer something hidden between moments.
He leans back slightly on his hands, eyes drifting around the room, a small smile tugging at his lips before he even realizes it.
The bathroom door creaks open and he turns his head instantly to find you standing in the doorway with your hair down, dressed down in a simple night dress that somehow does more to him than anything else you’ve worn all day.
“Hey!” you call out with an edge to it. Like you’re seeing something that doesn’t belong in your room.
Did he—? Did he get it wrong? Did he read too much into everything?
But before the thought can even settle, you walk toward him, stopping just close enough to look down at where he’s sitting. “That’s my side of the bed.”
God. He overthinks it again. He shakes his head at himself, dragging a hand through his hair. “Right. Of course it is.”
You cross your arms, still holding onto that mock glare, but there’s a grin threatening at the corner of your lips.
He plays along, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he grabs his things. “I come all the way here and I don’t even get a good spot.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now.
He walks around the bed, dropping onto the other side, tossing his things down like he’s been doing this forever.
You watch him for a second before nodding toward the bathroom. “Go wash up. Hurry.”
He groans softly, dragging himself up again. “Bossy.”
“Go. Now!”
“Okay, okay,” he mutters with hands lifted in defeat, already heading toward the bathroom.
Soon enough, Hyunjin comes out of the bathroom with a towel slung over his shoulder, hair still slightly damp, the warmth from the shower clinging to his skin.
The first thing he sees is you, sitting comfortably against the headboard, legs stretched out under the blanket, phone in your hands as your thumbs move quickly across the screen. The warm glow of the bedside lamp lights up your face, softening your features.
You glance up the second he steps into view and smile. It hits him instantly that he should get used to it now.
“Well,” you say, a teasing edge in your voice, “thank you for not taking forever in there.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he walks over. “You’re welcome. I tried my best not to inconvenience you.”
You narrow your eyes playfully, but the smile stays.
He sets his things down on your nightstand while you lock your phone and put it aside without a second thought. Then you shift, sliding further down into the bed, patting the space next to you. “Hurry. Get in.”
He rolls his eyes, dragging out a dramatic sigh like he’s being forced into it. “So demanding.”
He takes his time anyway, pulling the covers back, settling in beside you, but the second he’s there, you snuggle up to him. Like it’s where you’re meant to be.
He doesn’t even think about it but offers his arm, letting you rest your head on it, adjusting slightly so you’re comfortable. Your body melts into his side, and he feels the soft hum you let out against him.
His fingers drift to your hair, brushing through it gently, slow and absent-minded. His other hand finds yours, threading your fingers together before softly kissing the your knuckle and resting your laced hands over his chest.
The room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, the faint rustle of sheets shifting with every small movement. This is nice and he is relaxes, and yet, one thing sitting in the back of his mind, refusing to stay quiet.
He swallows, then nudges you slightly. “Hey.”
You hum in response, eyes already half-closed. “Mmh?”
“You’re not gonna get weird tomorrow, right?”
You let out a small scoff of laughter against him. “Get weird how?”
He keeps his voice steady and the tone casual. “Like… you’re not gonna go back to how you used to be with me.”
You tilt your head up to look at him, brows lifting. “And how did I used to be with you?”
He grins, a little sheepish now. “You know. Like you’re always annoyed by me. Like… I’m just your test partner.”
A quiet chuckle leaves you and your eyes flutter, forcing them open to look at him. “First thing first, I’ll always be annoyed by you,” you murmur with a playful smile.
Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sighs, but he knows that part is true. He doesn’t think he’ll stop annoying you sometime soon.
“Secondly,” you continue, looking and sounding a little serious now. “Congratulations, you just got promoted as my long-term booty call.”
He lets out a breath that should turn into a laugh. But your answer is not quite the one he wants to hear, not the kind of assurance he seeks. Before he can say anything else, you suddenly burst into laughter, shifting over him until you’re half on top of him, looking down at him like he’s the most ridiculous person alive.
“We’ve been—” you cut yourself off with another laugh, shaking your head, “—we’ve been fucking each other for days, said ‘I love you,’ and now you’re here, in my bed… and you’re still asking what we are?”
He presses his lips together, trying to hold it in and fails. A laugh escapes him out of embarrassment. “Just making sure,” he mutters while nodding to himself.
You roll your eyes and then drop your head to the side, quietly chuckling.
He looks at you and carefully asks, “Can I tell people about it?”
“I’d rather keep it low-key,” you eloquently answer like you expected that question from him.
His brows knit slightly. “Why?”
You reach up, brushing a strand of his hair back. “I don’t want to mix work and personal stuff. And I definitely don’t want to give the office something to gossip about.”
He gets it. He fully understands it. But still, he pouts because a part of him wants to the tell the world that you’re his. “So… I can’t tell anyone?”
You smile, amused. “You can.”
His eyes light up slightly at that, but then you quickly add, “Only if someone asks.”
The pout comes back immediately and you barely have time to laugh before he suddenly rolls over, flipping you onto your back beneath him. You let out a small sound of surprise, but you’re smiling.
He hovers over you, looking down with that familiar mix of mischief and something softer underneath. “Do you really love me?” he asks.
You grin instantly. “Do you really love me?”
He leans down, nudging his nose against yours. “I asked first.”
You hold his gaze and just to make this difficult, you answer, “Sometimes, I do.”
He narrows his eyes, leans in and gently bites your nose.
You shriek, laughing, hands flying to his face as you cup his jaw, pressing a quick kiss there.
“I want to take things slow. I want to keep this between us for a bit longer.”
He nods in understanding. But then—
“Can I at least tell our CMO?”
You laugh immediately, knowing that Seungmin will be likely the first person Hyunjin would declare this relationship to. “Yes.”
He nods, satisfied. “That’s enough.”
And just like that, he leans down, giving you a long, lingering kiss. A kiss that says more than he bothers putting into words.
“No more questions. I’m tired,” you half mumble with eyes closed.
“Okay,” he says, tangling his hand in your hair and gently brushing it. But not even a second later, he asks, “How about one more kiss?”
You sharply exhale air through your nostrils before tilting your head up. “Just one more kiss,” you murmur.
Hyunjin makes the best of it, capturing your soft lips in his and kissing you. Less heat, more intent. With his whole heart. When he pulls away, he smiles and lowly murmurs against your lips, “Goodnight.”
You smile with your eyes closed. “Goodnight,” you say back, just as softly.
Then he rolls back onto his side, pulling you with him, tucking you close like before. You fit there perfectly. His arm wraps around you, hand resting at your back, holding you close as your breathing slowly evens out.
And this time, his mind is quiet because when morning comes, he knows you’ll still be right here.
-
The moment you open your eyes, you see him.
Hyunjin, right beside you. So close that you can feel his breath, soft and even against your skin. His face is slightly smushed into the pillow, lips parted in the faintest pout, hair a mess in the way that makes him look softer and unguarded. And somehow, a lot more attractive.
There’s something about seeing him like this that makes your chest feel a little too full and your lips curve into a smile
Carefully, you shift closer. Your fingers hover for a moment before brushing lightly along his jaw, tracing the line of it. Then you lean in, pressing small, lingering kisses there—one, two, three—slow and gentle, just enough to feel the warmth of his skin under your lips.
He doesn’t stir. Not even a little as you smile against him. So you press one more kiss and this time to his lips and to no one surprise, still nothing.
It’s only when you start adjusting the blanket and shifting your leg, he finally reacts. A low groan slips out of him as he burrows deeper into the pillow, voice rough with sleep. “What time is it?”
You reach for your phone, squinting slightly at the brightness before answering, “Six seventeen.”
He groans louder like he has issues with those numbers, and immediately turns his face further into the pillow. “Wake me up in an hour,” he mumbles.
He sounds so serious about it. Like it’s a real plan. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.
Then, after a beat, his voice comes again, slurred and drifting. “Actually… don’t wake me up at all.”
You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head a little as you hum in response. “Noted.”
You lean down again, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. And this time, he reacts, just barely. As you pull away, his lips follow yours, chasing for a second before he catches you in a lazy, lingering peck. It’s clumsy, half-asleep, but warm in a way that settles in your chest. Then just as quickly, he’s burrowing back into the pillow, arm loosely draped where you were moments ago and go back to sleep.
You watch him for a brief moment before willing yourself to start moving. You stretch slightly, easing yourself out of bed, careful not to disturb him again. Morning is here and for once, you don’t feel like you have to brace yourself for anything.
You fall into your routine almost instinctively—shower, clothes, skincare and by the time you’re in the kitchen, the sun is already filtering in through the windows, warm and bright. You set breakfast together from whatever you have left in your fridge. Oatmeal, a few extras on the side and pour yourself a cup of coffee.
You’re halfway through your first sip when you hear his slow, dragging footsteps. You glance up just as Hyunjin appears at the bottom of the stairs with messy hair and eyes barely open, one hand rubbing at his face like he’s still negotiating with the idea of being awake. Yet, his expression changes instantly the second he sees you. He smiles as he walks into the kitchen.
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep.
“Morning,” you softly say back.
He passes by you, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the top of your head before reaching up to the cabinet. It’s so natural, like it’s always been part of the routine. You don’t even hesitate to grab his mug as he takes it down, pouring coffee into it for him.
He glances at you, grin tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”
You nod toward the counter. “Want some oatmeal?”
He pauses mid-sip and grimaces. “I’m pretty sure I still have cereal left,” he says, already turning to rummage through your cabinet where he last put it.
Not long after, he finds the cereal box and pulls it out, opening the lid to peek inside. His brow furrows and slowly, he turns his head toward you. “Why is there barely anything left in my cereal?”
You lean against the counter, keeping your expression neutral, lifting your cup for another sip like you have no idea what he’s talking about.
His eyes narrow as he takes a step closer. And you can feel the way he’s looking at you, like he’s waiting for the crack to show.
You tell yourself to stay calm but it only lasts for two seconds and then your lips twitch. “I might’ve eaten it. Occasionally,” you admit, rather casually.
He scoffs, shaking his head as he closes the distance. “You’re still bad at lying.”
You grin, completely unbothered. “Oatmeal?” you offer again, just to annoy him.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he cups your face with both hands and then leans in, kissing you. The kiss is quick, but it lingers just enough to make a low gasp escaping you when he pulls aways.
He looks at you like he’s already decided something and says, “No, thank you. I’ll stick to my cereal.”
A few minutes later, you sit across from Hyunjin, one leg tucked under you, spoon lazily circling your oatmeal while he crunches through his cereal. But every now and then, he glances at you like he’s checking you’re still there.
You pretend not to notice. Instead, you reach for your phone resting beside your bowl, unlocking it and sliding it across the table toward him.
“Hey, we should probably do this now before we forget,” you begin.
He pauses mid-bite, spoon hovering in the air. “Do what?”
You tap the screen lightly, where the form is pulled up. “The couple test program review. They asked for it.”
He leans forward, squinting a little as he reads, then lets out a quiet ah of realization before leaning back in his chair. “Right. That thing.”
He shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, chews on it and then, he asks, “We’re filling it together?”
You raise a brow at him like it’s obvious. “We were in it together, weren’t we?”
That earns you a soft huff of a laugh. He nods, scooting his chair a little closer, elbow coming to rest on the table as he angles your phone toward both of you. “Okay, let’s see,” he says, suddenly a little more awake.
You take your mug, sipping your coffee as your eyes scan the first question. “How would you rate your overall experience?” you read aloud, then glance at him. “Be honest.”
He tilts his head, considering it for a brief moment like he’s weighing something heavier than the question itself. “Good. Not excellent.”
You narrow your eyes slightly. “Not excellent?”
His gaze flicks to you, slow, deliberate, the corner of his mouth tugging. “Well, we had… complications.”
You scoff under your breath, already tapping “Good” anyway. “You mean you couldn’t stay professional.”
“I stayed professional,” he counters, completely unbothered. “You’re the one who—”
You kick his foot lightly under the table. “Next.”
He laughs and lets you move on.
You go through the aspects together, taking your time with it. You read them out, and he answers, sometimes immediately, sometimes after a pause, sometimes after a quiet debate between the two of you that ends in a compromise and a shared glance that lingers just a second too long.
“Partner coordination,” you murmur, tapping the screen. “Four?”
“Four,” he agrees. Then, after a beat— “Could’ve been a five.”
You hum, pretending to think about it. “You complained a lot.”
“You liked it.”
You don’t answer that. Just press the rating and move on. And each time, your lips curl into a smile.
“Did the program have a positive impact on your relationship?” you ask, voice softer now. You don’t look at him right away like you did before. Your thumb hovers over the screen.
“Yeah,” he says before you can ask.
You glance up then, and he’s already looking at you. You nod once, almost to yourself, before tapping “Yes.”
Neither of you says anything for a second after that. Then you clear your throat, nudging the moment forward. “Favorite part?”
He leans back in his chair again, dragging his spoon lazily through the empty bowl now. “Working together,” he says, like it’s obvious. Then, after a beat, quieter— “Getting to see you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Focused and bossy,” he answers without a beat. A grin blooms on his small face as he adds, “A little scary.”
You roll your eyes, but your fingers hesitate over the screen before typing it in. The rest comes easier from there until you reach the last new question.
You tilt the phone slightly toward him. “Would you be interested in joining another couple test program in the future?”
He doesn’t even pretend to think about it. “Yes.”
You smile a little at how fast that was. “That was quick.”
He shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave you. “Depends on the condition.”
You raise a brow. “Oh?”
He leans in, raising his eyebrow as a flirty gesture. “For an instance, same partner.”
Your fingers still for a second over the screen and you try to fight it, but the smile tugging at your lips anyway. You nod as you tap the answer in, exactly like that. Then you set your phone down and reach for your coffee again.
He watches you over the rim of his mug, quiet for a moment. Then—
“So… we’re doing another one?”
You meet his eyes over the table, sunlight catching in them, in yours, in everything that’s changed without either of you saying it out loud. You tilt your head, a small smile pulling at your lips.
“Looks like it,” you say.
And maybe this time, it won’t feel like a test at all.
-
COUPLE TEST PROGRAM
PARTICIPANT REVIEW FORM
Participant 1 ID: P-260319
Participant 2 ID: P-260320
Program Duration: 30 Days
1. Overall Experience
How would you rate your overall experience?
☐ Excellent ☑ Good ☐ Average ☐ Poor
2. Program Aspects (Rate 1–10)
Product Quality & Variety: 9
Clarity of Testing Instructions: 9
Ease of Use (Products): 8
Reporting & Documentation Process: 8
Partner Coordination & Task Balance: 8
3. Relationship Impact
Did the program have a positive impact on your relationship?
☑ Yes ☐ No ☐ Unsure
If yes, how? (optional)
It encouraged consistent communication, cooperation, and adaptability. We became more aware of each other’s preferences, working styles, and boundaries through repeated interactions.
4. Highlights & Challenges
Favorite part of the program:
Testing products in a shared setting and comparing perspectives. The process felt interactive and allowed for genuine reactions and discussions.
Any challenges or concerns:
Maintaining objectivity while working closely as partners could be challenging at times. Differences in opinions occasionally affected the evaluation process.
5. Recommendation
Would you recommend this program to other couples?
☑ Yes ☐ No ☐ Maybe
6. Future Participation
Would you be interested in joining another couple test program in the future?
☑ Yes ☐ No ☐ Maybe
If yes, under what conditions? (optional)
Preferably with the same partner to maintain consistency in evaluation and communication.
7. Additional Feedback
The program is well-structured and effective for observing real-time partner dynamics. Slight improvements in reporting flexibility and clearer expectations for subjective evaluations would enhance the experience.
8. Final Comment
Thank you for the opportunity to participate in the Couple Test Program. The experience was insightful, engaging, and unexpectedly meaningful for both of us. Beyond product evaluation, the program encouraged stronger communication, teamwork, and understanding between partners in everyday situations.
We appreciate the effort put into creating realistic testing environments and activities that allowed authentic interactions and feedback. Overall, it was a valuable experience that we would gladly participate in again.
Submission Status: ✔ Successfully Submitted
-
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⋆.˚˖࿔ pairing | freaknerd!jongseob x reader ༉‧₊˚.
synopsis | the sweet, nerdy looking boy that sits next to you isn't actually as innocent as he appears to be.
details | nsfw (MINORS DNI), smut, jongseob is a perv, idk how to describe some of the warnings but jongseob freaky with it, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, somnophilia
⟢ length | 1.5k ⟡
𓆩⟡𓆪 note || this was born out of 2am delusions about freaky dommy jongseob
MASTERLIST
freaknerd!jongseob who’s so in love with you but so terrified at the mere prospect of entering your space, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. from the moment he laid eyes on you when you took a seat beside him during BIO220, he knew he was done for.
freaknerd!jongseob who could never focus in class, not when his eyes have better things to do than memorize signalling pathways. like the tantalizing expanse of your skin left bare from your short skirt, like the way your jaw works around the gum you always chew during class, like the way your delicate fingers flit gracefully over your keyboard.
freaknerd!jongseob who wonders if your skin would feel as soft as it seems under his palms, who wonders if your hands are strong enough to leave a mark around his neck, who wonders if your nails are sharp enough to leave lines on his skin. it’s a war every week to not pop one in class as his mind wanders to the filthy depths of his imagination— his imagination that’s invaded completely by the thoughts of you.
freaknerd!jongseob who dies inside when your name is called with his for the final class project. it’s the first time you meet his eyes and jongseob realizes he won’t come out of this semester without being severely scarred, at least mentally, with the way just a smile from you throws his mind in the wringer. physically too, he hopes.
freaknerd!jongseob who can barely look you in the eye during your ‘study dates’ (as you so excitedly called it) in the library. especially not when you lean into his space from across the table, close enough to where he can smell the scent of your perfume and start dissecting the notes in the undertones. not when your hand brushes his as you take his pen from him to jot notes of your own on his notebook (he does not spend hours memorizing the way you cross your t’s and dot your i’s). not when you opt to start sitting at the seat beside him at some point through the semester, and he can actually feel the heat of your body in his space when you neglect the concept of personal space, not that he could complain.
freaknerd!jongseob cannot believe he has you in his bedroom right now, all alone while soul is out for a dance meet. he can’t fathom the fact that you’re perched on his bed, chin propped on your hand as you flit through his notebook and throw out ideas for how to arrange your bulletin, feet swinging idly in the air with your short skirt laying dangerously just below the curve of your ass. and all he can do is stare at you from where he’s sitting on the floor by his bed, markers and billeting board laid neglected in front of him.
he doesn’t hear his name being called, nor the words following as he’s too busy ogling the sliver of exposed skin just above your thighs. the sound of your giggle, soft and musical, finally pulls him out of his reverie to see you smiling coquettishly at him, soft lips puckered around the gum in your mouth as you blow a bubble. he watches it expand then burst, clinging to your stained lips, then tracks the movement of your tongue as it slides out and salaciously works the gum back into your mouth.
but there’s a bit that’s stuck the your lower lip and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out and dig his finger into the plush of your lip, slow as it swipes off the gum. he freezes under your intent gaze when he realizes what he’s done, cheeks burning fiercely as an apology bubbles in his throat.
but then your lips wrap around the tip of his finger and he feels the wet slide of your tongue on his skin, a feeling that leaves his entire arm feeling electric. “thank you, seobie,” comes your voice, all silky and alluring, and that’s all it takes for all the heat in his body to divert to his gut, leaving him in a cold sweat as he just stares at you wide eyed, finger still hovering in the air awkwardly in front of you.
you giggle when your eyes drop somewhere on his lap and he doesn’t even get to linger on the horrifying realization that he’s getting hard because then your lips are around his finger again, eyes locked right onto his as you push forward to take it in deeper.
freaknerd!jongseob who’s got you bent over on his bunk within minutes, your ass propped up in the air for him, skirt shucked up to your hips to leave your pretty panties exposed as he toys with your clit over the fabric. he revels in your whines and mewls as he watches the glisten of his spit slick finger work over the dampening fabric, his other hand squeezing down hard on your hip as you start to squirm.
“stay still,” he orders politely, a dizzying contrast to the way he digs his fingers harshly into the meat of your flesh to make you finally relent and go still with a sharp whine. “you’re so wet,” he whispers, mesmerized, when he hooks his finger into the fabric and sees the strings of your arousal connecting to it as he pulls it back.
when he lets the fabric snap back into place, right over your clit, and makes you jolt and yelp in pleasure, he feels manic with the need to just play with you. he ignores your soft cries of his name, pulls the fabric back and lets it snap against your clit again to pull more of those sounds out of you. and he does it again. and again. and again, until you’re left trembling and squirming and dripping through your panties for him.
“seobie!” you whine sharply, rocking your hips back in a desperation plea for more. you look over your shoulder at him, shiny lips parted as you pant, gaze doe-eyed and glassy, cheeks ruddy. “please!”
and gods, when he has you bent over all pretty for him and so needy, how can he deny giving you anything you ask for?
he pushes his glasses up his nose from where they’d slipped down, then reaches over to gently push your head back down on his pillow. his hands fall back to your ass, thumbs pressing down outside your folds before he uses them to pry you open, to watch the way your juices seep around your dampened panties and gather around in little pools that he wants to lap up.
freaknerd!jongseob who just can’t help but press the hard tent of his aching boner between the space of your fluttering folds, groaning at the delicious pressure, at the way your arousal seeps onto his sweats. he can’t help but slowly grind into your heat, entranced by the way your arousal coats over the fabric of his pants, by the way those wanton whines fall from your lips with every deep grind, by the way you twitch under his ministrations. he grunts with each mind numbing press, the pleasure burning hot in his gut.
“think you can come for me like this?” he asks softly, already breathless, but by the way you’re already trembling and jerking with each press of his cock against your fluttering heat, he knows you won’t last. and when you finally do come— bucking desperately back against him to chase the pressure as you do, the wetness soaking over his crotch, the way he can see your hole flutter under your ruined panties— he loses all restraint.
freaknerd!jongseob has you taking his cock and letting him plow every thought out of your pretty little head into the depths of the night, where it’s nothing but desperate, needy praises from him as he fucks you full of his cum over and over, as much as he can until he’s shooting blanks and you’re laying pliant as nothing but a pretty little doll for him fuck and claim.
freaknerd!jongseob who cleans you up and lets you sleep over, only to wake you up the next morning with your clothes undone clinging precariously off of you, his cock between your bare thighs, his hand latching onto your breast, his mouth attached to your earlobe as he whines and grunts while he fucks into the slick heat between your legs.
freaknerd!jongseob who lets you lay him out on his back and mark him up just like he’d been dreaming about the entire semester <3
℘ — est. soul (소울) x reader x jongseob (종섭) ▸ ⌜ 6.7k ⌟
synopsis ▸ your new boyfriends are nothing but sweet to you, but that’s the crux of your problem. they’re too sweet. it's nothing a little misbehaving can’t fix, though you may or may not regret it when valentine's night comes around.
δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, meandom!soulseob, light bondage, face-fucking, degradation, orgasm denial, edging, m/m if you squint, unprotected sex, aftercare
requested ▸ @kisseobies (the legend herself)!
an — happy valentine’s day! spending my night with jiung tn <3 also, requests are now open!
MASTERLIST
The thought had dug itself into your mind and refused to let go ever since that night when Soul had wrapped his arm around your neck and snapped into your ear to ‘be quiet’ before he went on to completely ruin you in the bathroom of some restaurant you can’t even remember the name of anymore.
All you remember from that night is that rush that those words had sent through you coupled with that strength of his that had you completely under his mercy. Ever since, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That dark edge to his voice that left as quick as it came, that threat at his fingertips as he’d manhandled your back against the wall before he’d lifted you up and taken you.
Because Soul was nothing if not sweet to you. Jongseob was even sweeter.
And you loved it. Really, you couldn’t ask for better partners— ones who know so well how to take care of you in every way so early into your relationship.
But you can’t help but crave for that heat again, the kind that makes your gut coil in fear and your nerves thrum with suspense.
You wonder if maybe you can bring it out of them. So what’s the logical way to go about this— communicate with them? No, that would be boring.
The right way would be to be totally immature. Complain that your milk’s too cold (Soul just offers to heat it up), complain that they’re spending too much time gaming instead of spending time with you (Jongseob buys you whatever game they’re playing so you can join them), start huffing at odd hours of the day that you’re horny and they’re not doing anything about it (they drop everything to tend to you), start huffing at odd hours of the day that they’re not showering you with affection (same result).
It doesn’t matter what you demand, they’ll find a way to fix it for you. So you figure you need to up your game.
The opportunity presents itself to you in the form of Intak at your dinner party one weekend.
You know it's a risky little game, sauntering up to Intak and sidling into his space a little too close, but the consequences may just be worth it.
You make sure you’re in perfect view of where Jongseob is chatting with Jiung and a few colleagues from the company as you pull up behind Intak where he’s hovering by the snack table. “Can I interest you in a drink?” You ask into his ear.
He startles as he whips around, round eyes wide, pretzel hanging off between his lips. “Hmph?”
You chuckle fondly, taking the pretzel from him and popping it into your mouth. “Red or white?”
Intak’s eyes fall to your lips, a light blush dusting along his cheekbones as he swallows around nothing. “O-Oh! Uh… White?”
It’s not just Intak’s gaze that you feel drilling into the back of your head as you pull him into the open kitchen by his wrist; there’s two other pairs piercing into you from the living room.
As you pour him a glass, you see Intak looking over his shoulder every few seconds. “How are things going with Jongseob and Shota?” He asks, looking just a little on edge.
“Great!” You chirp, taking a step closer to him to hand him his glass. “Why do you ask?”
Intak presses back into the counter as you hover into his space, looking over your shoulder. “Just curious,” he says quickly then shoots you a forced smile. “They talk about you all the time you know. Sounds like you guys are, uh…” He falters when you tilt your head and let your eyes fall to his lips. “Doing… good?”
Your lips pull into a smile as you lift your eyes back up at his, watching him through your lashes. “We are,” you hum, lifting your hand to tap your fingernail against the rim of his wine glass. “I just wonder sometimes, you know?”
You smile wider when you see Intak visibly swallow, leaning in a little like he’s pulled to you by your voice alone. “About—”
You’d felt his presence before you heard his rough, deceptively gentle voice.
“About what?”
A hand, warm and large, presses against the small of your back before you feel the heat of Soul’s body leaning in behind you.
Intak jolts back, the wine sloshing dangerously close to spilling as he stumbles out of this little bubble of danger you’d orchestrated. He slides out, laughing nervously as he reaches over and slaps Soul’s arm playfully. “I was just gonna ask the same thing,” he says frantically, walking backwards and nearly barreling into the fridge. “Good thing you got here! Ask her yourself!”
Then he’s gone and Jongseob steps inside the kitchen in his place, hands in his pockets and looking at you with an illusive calm. You’re left feeling strangely like you just trapped yourself in a wolf's den.
“Wine?” You offer Jongseob with an innocent smile.
Soul’s hand slides down to your hip and your heart jumps in excitement at the possessive grip he holds you with. “What was that?”
You shiver at his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. Play dumb.
“What was what?”
Jongseob is in front of you in the blink of an eye, looking down at you with a hard stare that has you backing up but that only pushes you further into Soul’s hold. Your breath catches in your throat when Jongseob leans in, stopping just before his nose bumps against your forehead.
“Count yourself lucky that there’s people around right now.”
Then they’re both gone, and you’re left cold and thrumming with anticipation. That anticipation lingers under your skin throughout the dinner as you try to play sweet and stay by their sides. They’re as pleasant as ever with you, but there’s a calculated heat to their gazes and their lingering touches.
It keeps you on your toes as you work with them in a practiced ease to clean up once everyone has left, but you start to think you’re the only one that notices the static in the air. They’re nothing but normal as they work around you and chat, like nothing’s amiss, but you think maybe that’s part of their game.
Until you come out to the living room to see them shouldering on their jackets and toeing into their shoes.
“You’re leaving?” You ask, not doing anything to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Jongseob looks over at you and smiles warmly, gesturing you over. “We have work early tomorrow,” he says, pulling you in by the waist as you close in.
“I thought you were staying over,” you all but whine and Jongseob kisses away the pout on your lips.
“Another time, okay?”
Your pout persists even when Soul turns you around and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you for hosting,” he says sweetly then presses a kiss to your cheek. “We’ll bring takeout tomorrow. Whatever you want.”
Your interest perks. “And boba?”
“And boba,” he giggles.
Every other concern blurs away when he kisses you.
And honestly, you forget altogether about your little schemes for the next few days. Things are peaceful as ever with them; you spend the mornings on call with them as they get ready for work then spend the evenings over games and takeout and bad movies.
At least until Valentine’s Day rolls around. The date they planned for you is more than just nice even if it's simple. They’d rented out a private room at a fancy restaurant with a window overlooking the city and you’d gotten your fill of everything you wanted from the menu (and more, thanks to Soul). Then you’d gone down by the Han river to walk it all off with ice cream.
But as soon as you get into the car to drive to their place for the night, the air shifts into something you can’t pin down.
The ride starts quiet and drowsy from all the food and excitement. You sit in the backseat with Jongseob, your weight resting against his side. Jongseob’s hand is light on your thigh as his thumb rubs mindless circles against the exposed skin while your eyes track the movements of Soul’s hands on the wheel.
Like it always does whenever you’re reminded of the strength under those veiny hands, your mind drifts off to the dirty corners of your imagination. That night in the restaurant flashes through your eyes again— the way Soul had roughly handled you— and you’re reminded of the pure strength under his harmless exterior.
Your thighs press closed at the slow thrum of want that builds between your hips and Jongseob’s fingers dig into your flesh at the movement.
“What’s wrong, pretty?” His voice comes deep and raspy above your ear.
You shift in your seat when Soul’s eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror. “Are we close?”
Soul laughs, a sound that does nothing to ease the heat slowly growing under your skin. “Ten minutes.”
That sounds like too long. If it wouldn’t get you killed, you’d jump his bones right then. “Then drive faster,” you huff, snappier than you’d intended but you’re a little too needy to care.
You gasp when the fingers in your thigh dig in sharper. When you look up at Jongseob, he’s already looking back at you with a heavy gaze.
“There it is again,” he mumbles under his breath and you lift your head off his shoulder.
“What?”
“That attitude.”
You feel a pit form in your stomach, of dread and of that excitement at the prospect of something dangerous.
“I don’t know what you mean…”
“I think you do,” he tells you, the corner of his lips lifting. “You’ve been acting up for a while now. Don’t think we haven’t forgotten about that little stunt you pulled with Intak.”
You swallow, feeling your body go rigid under the weight of his heavy gaze. The tone of his voice… it’s not something you’ve heard from him before. And all it’s doing is making that pressure between your hips grow more persistent.
You try to look away from him but his hand is on your chin, yanking your eyes back on him. He grins at you, slow and sly, when he sees the way your pupils are already blown wide, the way your cheeks are already flushed red, and the way you’re already squirming in your seat.
“Is this why?” He asks you quietly, his breath brushing over your lips.
His thumb brushes down to the side of your neck, pressing in and you whimper at the pressure. If nothing else, your pulse surely gives you away.
A scoff leaves his lips in something like a laugh. “You were right Shota.”
“I told you,” Soul pipes in from the front. “You should’ve seen her that night. She got all empty headed and cute.”
Those words are the nail in the coffin for your restraint. Your hand wraps around Jongseob’s wrist as you grind your hips down into the seat, searching for some sort of relief. “Seobie, please.”
He clicks his tongue and lifts your leg over his lap to keep you from chasing any form of pressure. “Not yet. Wait until we’re home.”
But you can’t. You need something, and you need it now.
Your hands dig into his shirt as you pull him in, pressing your lips to his with a desperation that feels like it’s taking control of your every limb.
“Want you,” you whine into his lips. When he makes no move to reciprocate, you pull back with a huff. “Seobie, please, I just need—“
His hand moves back up to your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks to cut your words off. “I said,” he snaps, and you still under the venom in his voice. “Not. Yet. Or are you too dumb already from being so horny that you can’t understand that?”
Your eyes snap wide open at his demeaning words, how so unlike him they are. And yet, you only want to make it worse.
“Haven’t you kept me waiting enough?” You mumble under his grip.
The smile that curls on his lips is downright terrifying. “I see how it is. You just made what we’re about to do to you a lot easier.”
Your mind churns through what that could possibly mean. “What—“
“We’re here,” Soul cuts in and only then do you realize that the car has stopped moving.
Jongseob lets go of you and unbuckles you as Soul gets out to open your door for you. You’re practically manhandled into their complex and all that does is make the anticipation in you burrow deeper.
The elevator ride up is torturous. There’s another man in there so as much as you want to climb onto Soul, you can’t. He keeps a tight grip on your arm to keep you still, knowing your habits.
But as soon as you step into their apartment and the door shuts closed, you turn to Soul and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a searing kiss.
Soul makes a surprised noise, his hands going to your hips but he doesn’t pull back. He gives into your kiss for a short moment before there’s a hand wrapping around the back of your neck and pulling you back.
“You really don’t know how to listen, do you?” Jongseob seethes into your ear.
“Who says I have to?” You breathe, very aware of the very real threat simmering behind his words, but very wanting of whatever consequences might come from disobeying.
Soul presses into your other ear, teeth tugging at your lobe with a quiet chuckle as his hands grip tighter on your hips. “It’s fine, Seob. Plenty of time to teach her now.”
And somehow, the threat sounds scarier coming from Soul.
“Hm. I suggest you start listening now,” Jongseob whispers.
You shudder at the brush of his hand as it works the zipper of your dress down and Soul pushes it down down your body, letting it pool at your ankles and leaving you in the crimson two-piece set you’d picked out specially for tonight. You preen at the way both of their breaths catch, at the feeling of their eyes raking over you and taking in the way the lace hugs you.
“Fuck,” Jongseob whispers as his hands slide up to cup your breasts over the bra.
Soul sounds just as ruined as his hands slip down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he presses his hardening erection against your hip. “You’re so pretty,” he breathes, before closing the distance and swallowing your gasp in a deep kiss.
He bullies his tongue past your lips almost immediately and you welcome him in with a whine, pushing your body against his.
Jongseob’s lips trail fire down your neck and shoulder as he presses himself against your back. He keeps one hand kneading your chest harshly, the other sliding down to press against the wet heat between your hips. Your moan gets swallowed by eager lips as Jongseob’s fingers rub over your clothed clit.
You grind your hips down to chase the friction of his hand that has you growing wetter and needier by the second.
“So fucking wet already,” he groans into your ear before you feel the hard press of his boner against the small of your back.
His hand comes to your chin to pull you from Soul’s kiss, his lips sealing over yours as soon as you’re free.
Soul’s lips attach to your neck as he leaves biting kisses down your neck. “Seob,” his voice rasps with restraint but he makes no move to pull away from you.
Jongseob forces himself from your lips, tugging your lip between his teeth as he goes. He chuckles at your whine as he pulls his hands away from you.
“Not yet baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your ear.
Then he steps back from you completely and before you can question where he’s leaving to, Soul is pulling you into another heated kiss. All your questions melt away as he licks into your mouth and uses his hands on your ass to grind your cunt down onto his thigh.
You don’t know how long you stand there, rutting against his leg like a bitch in heat and pushing yourself closer to orgasm, before you’re pulled away from Soul.
You don’t get the chance to gather your wits before you’re lifted off your feet and being carried into Jongseob’s room.
“Seob, what the hell!” You whine, wriggling in his hold.
“Stop squirming,” he scolds you, tightening his grip around you.
You go still as he steps into the room, not under his command, but at the sight of the lit candles and rose petals scattered artfully around. The scent of rose and lilac hits your nose as your back hits soft sheets.
“You did all this for me?” You ask once you’ve had your fill of looking around, grinning up at Jongseob.
Jongseob actually looks a little flustered as he glances around before looking down at you. “Sho’s idea.”
Soul smacks the back of his head as he passes him and moves onto the bed. “It was his idea but he’s embarrassed,” he corrects, climbing over you to crowd into your other side.
You giggle at the glare Jongseob sends Soul’s way. “Oh come on, it’s cute,” you insist, pulling him down by his shirt.
“It’s cliché,” Jongseob grumbles but he gives into your pull, settling down on your side.
You smile at the grouchy look on his face, taking him by the chin and pulling him in. “Well, I love it,” you say softly before pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.
He melts into the kiss and into you, his hands winding around your waist.
You’re so caught up in the warmth of the kiss that you don’t even realize your wrists have been captured. You snap into realization when you hear, and feel, something click around your wrist.
You pull from the kiss, blinking in confusion and looking up to see Soul securing your wrist to the bedpost with—
“Are those handcuffs?”
Soul looks down at you and smiles at the shock on your face, fiddling with the other fur lined cuff. “Yeah.” He takes your other wrist, rubbing his thumb along your wrist and pressing into the pulse point. “With the way you’ve been acting, we thought you could learn a little about restraint.”
Your eyes widen in realization. You swallow, feeling the heat between your legs start rushing back to you at an alarming rate.
Jongseob noses against your jaw, pressing a kiss on your chin. “Be a good girl for us and we’ll give you whatever you want.”
“And if you don’t,” Soul adds, leaning down to peck your lips softly, “You don’t get anything. Got it?”
You breathe sharply in, pressing your legs together to quell some of the heat. As much as the threat should scare you into submission, it only makes you want to learn just what their limits are. “Got it,” you agree quietly, then watch as Soul secured your other wrist with the cuff.
You tug your wrists to test the strength. It’s sturdy, but the fur keeps it from digging too hard into your skin. There’s not much movement that they allow though.
“Safeword?” Jongseob asks you, running his palm down your stomach in a soothing gesture.
You settle under the touch, arching into it. “Silver.”
“And?”
“Three knocks.”
He smiles at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”
You bristle when you feel something wrap around your thigh and lift your head to see Soul wrapping yet another contraption around you.
“What the hell is that?” You ask alarmed, squirming as he secures a leather strap around your thigh.
He grabs onto your leg to keep it still then shoots you a hard look that has you wilting immediately. “Stay still.”
The strap is attached to a long metal bar that has another leather belt on the other hand that Jongseob takes hold of to wrap around your other thigh.
“Spreader bar,” he explains, watching you closely to gauge your reactions. “Like this, you’ll be completely at our mercy.”
You try to move your legs once the bar is secured; you can only move them up and down, giving you no space to close your legs or pull them apart.
Soul grabs the bar and pushes it down, folding your legs practically to your chest and leaving you completely open and vulnerable.
“All that mouthing off you’ve been doing,” Jongseob starts, letting his hand fall between your legs to rub his thumb down the line of your pussy, pressing hard into the wet spot over your entrance. “You did it to get us here, didn’t you?”
You’re squirming already under the touch, but Soul holds your legs firmly down by his grip on the bar.
“Answer him,” Soul orders when you take too long, his other hand tugging at the garter around your thigh to let it snap against your skin.
“Fuck,” you hiss at the sting, before you nod. “Y-Yeah… Yes, I did.”
“So,” Jongseob starts, harshly grabbing your chin to bring your eyes up to him. “I don’t wanna hear you complaining about anything. Got it?”
You huff, averting your eyes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, shouldn’t I get to call the shots?” You grumble under your breath.
His eyes sharpen, fingers digging harder into your skin. “Do you wanna be gagged too?”
Your eyes widen, and you quickly shake your head. You don’t think you want to handle being all that restrained all at once.
“Good,” he hums, releasing his grip on you. He instead starts to undo his jeans, shifting to kneel beside your head. “We have better use for your mouth anyways, don’t we?”
Your mouth practically waters on instinct as he frees himself, already at half mast and leaking. You let your mouth fall open immediately as an invitation.
He chuckles over you, pressing his tip against your lower lip and smearing the moisture there. You try to chase him, wrap your lips around him, but grabs you by the hair with his free hand and pulls you back.
“Is that all it takes? You’re real cock hungry, aren’t you?” He taunts, ignoring the wince of pain you let out as his hand tightens in your hair.
You consider mouthing off again, and Jongseob sees it in the way your eyes twitch. But when you opt to stay silent, he smiles.
“Good, you’re learning,” he coos condescendingly before he feeds you his cock.
You nearly moan at the familiar taste of his velvety length on your tongue, eager as you push yourself forward to take him to the back of your throat.
But you get interrupted with a moan when you feel eager fingers prod at your sodden panties before slipping under and dragging through your folds.
You try to look over at Soul but Jongseob pulls you by the hair to keep your eyes on him.
You let out a sharp moan around Jongseob when two fingers shove their way inside of you with no preparation, the pain sharp enough to make your legs jolt to close but Soul shoves them right back down by the bar.
You feel Jongseob harden in your mouth as you continue to whine around him from the feeling of Soul starting to fuck his fingers into you at a brutal pace right off the bat, the stinging pain leaving you squirming away but burning for more.
At the same time, Jongseob starts to thrust into your mouth, fucking himself into the wet heat with no consideration for your breath or your gag reflex.
You take it all, because you really have no other choice. And they’re relentless as they take advantage of your state, your body thrumming with heat and electricity as it’s used to their wishes.
Your eyes are starting to blur with tears as you fight to keep them open and on Jongseob’s blissed out face, his head tilted back as he chases his pleasure.
You’re barreled right to the edge of your orgasm when Soul starts to rub his thumb over your clit in quick circles, but as soon as you’re about to tip off, his hands are gone from you completely and Jongseob pulls out of your mouth.
You gasp for breath, coughing a little as your body trembles from your high being ripped away from you right at the precipice.
“You didn’t think we’d let you come that easily did you?” Soul giggles at the pained look on your face, teasingly patting your clit just to see you squirm.
“C’mon, I was so close,” you argue, trying to buck up into his hand but he pulls away. “I’m doing what you told me to do!”
Soul tsk’s as he starts to shed his layers of clothing. “You’re still talking too much, so you’re not.”
But you’re not listening anymore because his abs are looking you right in the eye and you’re struck with the ridiculous needs to lick him like chocolate.
You almost don’t hear Jongseob’s scolding “pathetic” as he shifts down, brought back to your senses when his warm lips latch onto your nipple.
You sigh at the warmth that spreads through your chest, arching to press further into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the stiffening bud and sucks, his hand moving to your other tit.
Soul leans over to press a quick kiss to your other nipple as Jongseob kneads the soft mound. “It’s cute that you’re trying to be all bratty,” he says, looking you in the eye as he lets his tongue flick at the soft peak. “But it doesn’t take much to make you go all dumb does it?”
The words fill your head with a humiliated thrill, and before you can try and retaliate, Soul takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard enough to make you moan at the sharp pleasure.
You feel a little drunk as they both lap at your tits, sucking and humming like it’s a meal they can’t miss, and your nipples are sensitive enough to make your pussy throb from the feeling.
Your hips grind up into nothing as you squirm under their ministrations, mewling from pleasure. It only gets worse when one of their hands, you don’t know whose, slips into your panties and starts to rub at your clit again.
It doesn’t take long for you to reach that peak again, but like before, they stop right before you can come.
You nearly sob as they pull away again, glaring up at Soul’s grinning face when your vision clears.
“You can’t come,” he tells you, pushing the bar between your legs back down when he notices your legs have strayed. “Not until we do.”
You don’t notice Jongseob slipping between your legs until you feel the hard press of his length slip under the fabric of your panties and slide between the wet mess of your folds.
“Fuck!” You keen when you feel the head of his cock prod harshly against your sensitive clit. “I-I’m not gonna last that long!”
“That’s not our fucking problem is it?” Jongseob mutters as he starts to fuck into the space between your panties and your twitching cunt, groaning at the how slick you already are. “So fucking wet already.”
You whine at every brush of his twitching tip over your clit, trying to grind your hips up in search for more friction but Jongseob grabs ahold of the bar and keeps you pushed down. All you can do is just lay there as he grinds his cock against you and chases his own pleasure, leaving you with stuttered stimulation that only frustrates you.
You turn your eyes up to Soul in a quiet plea, but he’s too focused on watching the way your breasts move with each shift of your body, stroking himself to the sight of you.
“Sho,” you whisper, nearly gasping when his eyes snap up to yours, all wide and blown with desire.
“So pretty,” he breathes like he’s in a trance before cupping your breast in one hand, squeezing it as he brings the head of his cock to circle around your nipple, spreading his precum around the area.
You whine at the filthy sight of Soul grinding himself against your chest, your eyes and your mind hazing over as Jongseob continues to chase his pleasure against your slick cunt.
His thrusts are starting to stutter though and he’s starting to nudge his tip against your entrance with every pass, teasing you and making you think he’s going to finally slip into you, but he diverts at the last second.
“Seobie,” you whine, your cunt fluttering around nothing.
Soul clicks his tongue before shoving his fingers into your mouth, promptly shutting you up.
Jongseob curses, sliding himself back down and nudging against the enticing heat of your entrance again. “Want me?” He asks you, pupils blown in a similar state of ruin to Soul’s as he looks up at you.
You whimper around Soul’s fingers and nod, and Jongseob doesn’t leave you waiting, mostly because he can’t keep himself waiting, so he readjusts and sinks into you in one quick slide.
He groans as he settles all the way to the hilt, rolling his hips to push all the way in. You swallow him in eagerly, sighing at the feeling of finally being stretched and filled to the brim.
The pace he picks up soon after is frantic as he chases his high, effectively pushing you closer to your orgasm with each rough snap of his hips. His knuckles go white where they’re gripping the metal bar and keeping you folded down as he makes quick work of you.
“So fucking tight,” he grunts as he watches the way you swallow him in, watches the milky ring of your mixed arousals form where you’re both connected. “Just made to take me weren’t you?”
You whine around Soul’s fingers, trying your best to roll up and meet his thrusts but there’s really no space for movement. “Mm— F’r you!”
Jongseob groans at that, pausing to readjust and lean on his elbow beside your head, the metal bar pressing against his chest, before he fires up again with hard, rough thrusts that has him brushing against your sweet spot head on.
“Gonna cum,” he mutters through grit teeth, watching the way your face shifts and eyes roll back at the onslaught of burning pleasure.
He plows into you relentlessly, driving you right towards that edge again, before he stutters and shoves himself all the way in. He stills as he paints the depths of your walls with his release with a guttural groan.
You really do sob this time as the cease of friction once again rips your orgasm away from you. But Jongseob doesn’t seem to care, just rolls himself in deeper to push his cum all the way in.
He sits himself up to watch as his cum leaks out of you when he pulls out, only to gather it with his fingers to push it back into your fluttering cunt.
“Keep it,” he mutters breathily, dazed at the sight of your pretty cunt leaking his seed.
But he doesn’t get to relish in the sight much longer because Soul is elbowing his way in, pushing Jongseob aside so he can have his fill of you.
You barely get a chance to gather your wits before you feel Soul’s thick cock push it’s way into you, the abundance of both your and Jongseob’s arousals squelching lewdly as he starts to fuck into you at a quick pace.
You’re already overridden and sensitive with sensation despite not having come yet, whining at the way he stretches you out with each eager thrust.
Soul’s hands immediately find their way to your chest, gripping down on your tits as he pistons into your twitching, sensitive body.
“So good for us,” he breathes over you, dark eyes drinking in the fucked out sight of you.
You whimper, finding reprieve in the praise, but you were foolish to think that would last.
“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” He grunts, fucking into you even harder when he sees the fresh tears brimming in your eyes. “Letting us tie you up and— fuck— use you as we want? You’d let us just keep you like this wouldn’t you?”
When you don’t answer, mostly because you’re too overwhelmed to, he raises one hand to grab your chin and force your eyes to focus on him.
“Answer me.”
You cry out at a particularly harsh thrust, one that punches right into your g spot.
“Yes!” You sob, body trembling as his pace picks back up into that unforgiving, relentless one. “Yes, ‘m you’re slut— just a toy, please, use me— ‘m all yours!”
You have no idea what you’re ever saying anymore, every string of thought rearranged and tangled through your fucked out haze. Your body thrashes uncontrollably under his, wrists tugging against the cuffs holding them hostage.
And it only makes Soul more manic as he leans down and crashes his lips into yours, mostly teeth and tongue as he practically punches his next few thrusts into you before he goes rigid and cums with a choked groan against your lips.
You feel his warm release shoot into you, pooling in with whatever Jongseob had left behind and leaving you feeling absolutely full.
But it doesn’t feel like enough.
Soul lifts up to watch the ring of cum form around his cock where he’s still buried in you. He pulls out slowly, groaning softly at just how much you start to gush with nothing in the way.
It’s quiet as all he does is stare. Even Jongseob, who’d resigned himself to the side, is entranced by just how much you’re dripping.
But the sob that wracks your body from the depths of your chest has them scrambling in action. Jongseob immediately darts to your side, hand cradling your cheek gently as he kisses away your tears. Soul works the spreader bar off of you, his hands kneading and soothing away the dull ache the leather left behind.
“We got you, baby,” Jongseob murmurs as he pecks your lips, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “You okay?”
You sniffle, weakly tugging against the cuffs. “Wanna touch you,” you plead in a small voice, because as much as you want to come, you want to touch them, feel them, hold them as you do.
Soul immediately rushes to undo the cuffs, and when your hands are free, he gathers them in his and presses light kisses to the sore joints.
“Do they hurt?” Soul asks, all of the dark desire gone and given way to concern. He presses into your side, placing your hands down to your chest but keeping a loose grip around one. “Was that too much?”
You shake your head slightly, mind still buzzing with the need for completion.
Jongseob senses it, nuzzling into your jaw as his hand slides warmly down your stomach, slipping between your legs. “You did so good for us,” he murmurs sweetly, slowly pushing two fingers into your still aching walls. “You can come now, ‘kay?”
You sigh in relief as his fingers start to slowly pump into you with intent.
Soul nuzzles into your neck, planting a kiss to your sweaty skin as he joins Jongseob, circling two fingers around your pulsing clit.
They work in tandem to ease your body down from tension and nerves into boneless pleasure, pulling soft whines and moans from your lips. Their lips are present and warm as they leave kisses and whisper praises against whatever skin they can reach.
Your hands, finally free, hold onto their arms, feeling the heat of them and the shift of their muscles as they work you steadily to your high.
The coil in your guy tightens, your body starting to go rigid as you're pushed towards your high, and this time there’s no pulling away from it.
“Close,” you gasp, your legs clamping down around their hands, and there’s nothing in the way to stop you.
“Come for us,” Soul whispers into your ear, voice soft and silky as it pushes you right over.
Jongseob crooks his fingers against that sweet spot in you just as you come, coaxing your orgasm out of you as you gush around his fingers while Soul’s fingers keep working your clit.
It’s not intense, it’s not mind-blowing; but it’s warm and it’s safe and it’s all encompassing as you come, held so delicately between the both of them as they praise you and lull you through your high.
You’re not sure when the kiss had started, or when your consciousness had dipped for a moment, but it’s a tangle of lips and soft tongues as they languidly kiss you together, fingers still buried in you but unmoving like just another point of connection to you. Soul’s hand is on your chest but not intruding, just holding you as he pushes further into your and Jongseob’s mouths.
Soul is the first to move away and Jongseob takes the free reign to press deeper into the kiss, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you.
It’s a delicate moment— until Jongseob yelps and pulls back from the kiss, and you learn why when you look up to see that Soul had taken Jongseob’s hand and latched his mouth onto his fingers to suck the slick off of them.
Soul’s eyes glint mischievously at Jongseob’s weak glare as he smiles around his fingers, only pushing them deeper into his mouth.
“Shota,” Jongseob says in a warning tone, and Soul finally pops off his fingers.
“Tastes good,” he answers simply with a shrug. Then he shuffles off the bed and disappears into the bathroom.
You huff a quiet laugh when Jongseob drops his head on your chest with a muttered, “Freak.”
“As if you’re any better,” you point out, finally mustering enough sense to string together a proper sentence.
Jongseob lifts his head to look at you with a raised brow. “You can’t talk, Miss I Want My Boyfriends To Dominate Me But Can’t Grow The Balls To Ask Them.”
You yelp when he pinches your hip, shoving at his chest. “Well where’s the fun in that?”
“So flirting with our best friend is fun then?”
You turn your head to look at Soul as he climbs back on the bed with a damp towel, a little pouty as he recalls that night with Intak.
You groan, dropping your head back. “That wasn’t even flirting! I was just— ah!”
You hiss when Soul swipes the towel between your legs, still sensitive from the assault your poor cunt just went though.
Soul apologizes, making quick work of cleaning you up before tossing the towel to Jongseob to clean himself.
“Whatever it was, don’t do it again,” Soul tells you firmly before laying back down beside you.
You watch the pout on his lips with a smile. “Aw, didn’t take you for the possessive type. I expected Jongseob, but not you.”
“He’s worse,” Jongseob says as he plasters himself against your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in.
Soul follows your body, wrapping around you from his side before he pulls the blanket over you. “No, he’s definitely worse.”
You snicker, settling into all the warmth. “It doesn’t matter who’s worse. I’m only yours anyway.”
There’s a comfortable silence, thoughtful, before Jongseob pipes up quietly. “Seriously, that wasn’t too much was it?”
You turn your head to face him and the reluctance in his gaze. “Not at all.” You press a kiss to his nose, smiling when it scrunches in response. “It’s just what I wanted.”
“Does that mean our first Valentine’s was a success?” Soul asks from your other side and you laugh, warm from the dull throbbing between your legs and the fuzzy feeling in your chest that feels strangely at home.
You turn to Soul, bumping your nose against his as you answer him with a resounding yes.
