(18+) you just want attention from your big bad boyfriend :(
"C'mere, girl." Frank's low, gravelly voice cut through the room like a command. "S'this what you need, hmm? Answer me. Use your words."
His rough, calloused hand came down on your swollen clit for the third time, sharp and deliberate. A small, broken whimper slipped from your puffy lips. He was right â it was exactly what you needed. But admitting it so easily? Where was the fun in that?
The fourth smack landed harder, paired with a deep snarl as his fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your flushed face toward him. "Damn brat. If you donât speak up, youâre not getting anything else."
The threat hit exactly where he meant it to. Your pout deepened instantly, a needy little cry tumbling out of you. Youâd spent the whole day poking and prodding at him â huffing, sulking, brushing against him just to steal his attention â and now that you finally had it, you didnât want to lose even a second.
"No, no, noâ please donât stop," you begged, voice shaky and sweet. "Please, Iâll be goodâŠ"
Frank let out a deep, sarcastic chuckle that rumbled through his chest. "Atta girl." He sounded almost amused, like he was entertained by how quickly you folded for him. He knew you would. Hell, he knew exactly why youâd been acting out all day â his sweet, ditzy little brat just needed to be put back in her place.
His strong hands gripped the backs of your thighs, spreading them wide and pushing them up toward your chest. He lowered his face between your legs, breath hot against your soaked folds. A single gentle kiss pressed to your sensitive clit, his warm saliva mixing with your slick. You were so worked up, so desperate, that even that soft touch nearly sent you tumbling over the edge.
"More, Frankâ please," you whined, hips bucking up toward his mouth. "Need it so bad!"
"Aht aht," he murmured against your pussy, the vibration making you shiver. "I know what you need, sweetheart. Let me do my job."
He sealed his lips around your clit again, alternating between slow, filthy slurps and firm, rhythmic sucking. Deep, hungry grunts rolled from his mouth straight into your core, the sound and sensation pushing you closer and closer. Your fingers twisted into the sheets as your thighs trembled in his iron grip.
When you finally tipped over the edge, it hit you hard â waves of pleasure crashing through your body while your tearful doe eyes locked onto his from between your spread thighs. Frank didnât stop, licking you through every pulse and aftershock, drawing it out until you were a whimpering, boneless mess.
You looked at him with hazy, adoring eyes, watching him kiss your inner thighs, finally quiet and satisfied now that you had the attention youâd been craving all day.
summary: after your run in with bo at the juke, the two of you continued to see each other. your relationship growing closer with each time you spent together. missing your presence - bo decided to pay you a visit on your family farm...
word count: 9k
warnings: smut, oral sex, unprotected sex, fluff, establish relationship, slight mentions of race, slight insecurity undertones, mentions of smoking
author's note: here's part two of my bo fic and i must say, i did enjoy writing this, i wanted to flex my writing muscle - and i feel like i did hahaa! omg, thank ya'll for reading my stuff and for the support, i appreciate ya'll dearly! much love <3
"I don't get too intimate. Why would I let you in? But I think again..."
The summer rays beat down on your body heavy as you rolled your tense shoulders, the thick heat blanketing over the farmland that your family owned. With a old and dirty straw hat that shielded your eyes from the sun, your nimble fingers aligned the nail into the wooden plank.
And you hammered.
The loud echo of iron hitting rusty nail reverberated through your body with each strike of the hammer you made, and once the nail disappeared into the thick wood you used the rest of your strength to yank at the plank - to make sure it wouldn't budge from the harsh weather. Dirt, mud, and chicken feathers clung onto your overalls and sun-kissed face as if it were a second skin. Your job for the day was to expand the chickencoop by the end of the afternoon; as more roosters were swiftly on their way to your farm.
Sweat damped the back of your neck and forehead, making the natural yet short soft curls tighten underneath your straw hat. This heat was siphoning your energy with each movement you made and it didn't help that you would sometimes get weak in the knees when your mind you drift towards your lover.
Bo Chow.
Memories of him always crept in with every strike of your hammer, every intense stroke of your saw cutting wooden boards, and every twist you made with your rusty screwdriver. After that night in the juke - your relationship with the man blossomed like a sunflower under the Mississippi heat. Every time you would drive into town your heart would flutter in anticipation to see him, to feel his hands on your body, and to kiss him.
He wasn't embarrassed to kiss you in public.
At first you had your reservations about it; stating that people would stare and whisper. Especially with the masculine getup you'd often wear, but Bo being Bo he shrugged his shoulders as those honey coated words fell from his lips, twisting in melody with his southern twang.
"Let them stare, I don't care what they whisper about us."
He was the best boyfriend you've had thus far, he was kind and gentle, and he never pressured you into doing anything you weren't comfortable with. But he also held your hand; guiding you out of your comfort zone when you needed it the most - showing the true desires that burned within your heart - the feelings that you thought you didn't deserve to feel. On Sundays Bo's general store would close early, at six instead of nine, and those days were your days.
You would sit on the wooden stool that was just beside the backdoor that lead upstairs - towards Bo's living quarters. The sound of him locking the door always made you smile ear to ear, that meant that it was now just the two of you. Bo would reassure that he didn't need any help closing, but you'd lend a hand anyway, with two people cleaning up that meant being in each other's arms would come sooner. Once done closing down the shop he would lead you upstairs, hand in hand, and the familiar tingle would nip at your loins.
Bo's hands would gently unbutton your overalls while your fingers would race over his arms and shoulders. After losing your virginity to him, the two of you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. He would help you explore your body while his guided hands would show you just the right touch to make him turn into moaning mess. You learned what your likes and dislikes are in the bedroom; Bo encourage you to speak your mind about it, reassuring you that it was important for him to know how to 'please his woman'.
After a few days of staying in town a little later than the usual and the unexplained pep in your step, your father quickly rushed you with questions on your whereabouts, at first you feigned ignorance but that didn't work of course.
You were a bad liar.
So you spilled about the time you spent with Bo, leaving out the intimate details, obviously. You told him that he was a kind man, that he treated you good, and that he had gumption most men around these parts lacked. And when those hurried words that ran from your mouth like water from a faucet slowed; he asked you to invite Bo over for dinner, to see for himself who this man truly was.
You could still feel the intense pressure of their eyes glued onto you and Bo as you introduced him to your family. Your two older brothers sizing him up as he helped you carry the bowl of mashed potatoes towards the large wooden dining table, but under their intense gaze Bo didn't crack, he kept his clam and charismatic persona in tact even with all of the invasive questions thrown at him.
Your family quickly learned that Bo was clever - extremely so. He had a plan, the kind that would pull the family farm out of shambles that the Great Depression and Segregation had driven it into. Some people were not fond at the idea of buying natural farm raised anything from a once sharecropper and his family, but Bo offered to resell your family chicken, beef, milk and eggs within his shop. He also added the fact that he knew the SmokeStack twins and that they'd needed supplies for their juke too.
He was offering your family a lifeline.
But the idea of the unknown worried your father, he was comfortable with reselling his goods to other local farms that he worked with over the years, but those farms were going under as well. He had no choice but to hear out Bo, so he did. You could see the glimmer of interest and hope within your father's eyes as Bo laid out the numbers between bites of greens, his strong hand resting on your thigh underneath the table, he was nervous but only you knew that.
Your bothers chimed in with sharp doubts, but you could tell that they were interested too, they didn't run Bo off like they'd normally do to smooth talkers who tried to convince the family to do business with them, and that was remarkable to you. The way he swatted away their doubts with ease and filled their minds with the potential of making a steady income made you stare at Bo with awe.
After the dinner you and Bo would walk the perimeter of the farm, your knuckles brushing against his as tender words exchanged between the two of you. He told you that he wanted to build something lasting, not just for now, but for the future. Something that would benefit the multiple generations that would come after the two of you - together. You paused your steps at his words which cause him to stop in his tracks too.
"What do you mean by that, Bo?" You asked.
He shrugged his shoulders, his hands deep within his pockets and replied: "Nothin', just thinkin' out loud is all."
Pulling yourself out of the sweet memories you wiped your dirty saw dust covered hands onto your overalls and took a step back to admire your work. You were finally done expanding the chickencoop, and with a huff you began to clean up after yourself. Carrying the extra planks and tools into the nearby shed were they would stay until the next project.
The sound of dirt cracking underneath wheels grabbed your attention and with steady steps you exited the shed, only to be met with a blue car and your lover within the driver seat. A smile tugged at your sweat-slicked face as your irises scanned his movements, watching him as he slipped out of the car, and slamming the door shut with a lazy motion.
"Hey, baby." Bo smiled as he strut towards you with open arms, you quickly ran towards him, closing the distance as your face pressed against the crook of his neck. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders while he rested his strong yet comforting hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him.
He smelled like cedar wood, peppermint, and a undertone of tobacco. The vibrations of his laughter racked through your body and the both of you swayed back and forth within each others arms. Pulling away first, you planted a quick peck on his lips that he gladly accepted.
"What're you doin' here? Ain't you suppose to see my Pa tomorrow?" You asked as your hands ran across his chest, feeling his toned body underneath his clothes. You bit your lip and giggled as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, knocking the straw hat that you wore off of your head by accident.
"What? Is it a crime to pay a visit to my beautiful lady?" He shot back which made you shake your head, a wide and giddy smile clung onto your lips like the thick summer heat that engulfed your body.
"I miss you, that's why I'm here...Recently it feels like I'm only here to talk business, I rarely get to be around you now." Bo whispered, his eyes softening with each word he spoked. You looked away from him, but his fingers caught your chin and guided your face towards his.
"I miss you too..." You muttered back as your lips ghosted over his, but before he could kiss you - your hands that were rested on his chest playful pushed him away. "But I'm not bothered by you comin' out here to do business, you're helpin' my family, and I know once we get our footin' we'll have time for each other again."
You picked up the straw hat that fell onto the dirt pathway, tossing the hat on a shelf within the shed. Your short hair was now free as your fingers picked through the curls, the natural coils snapping back into place with each tug of your fingers. It was Bo's turn to watch you now as he placed his thumb with the belt loop of his pants, his smile never fading.
"What?" You chuckled out, but the man just shrugged and shook his head, his brown eyes filled with adoration, he was starting to grow more attached to you by the minute. You haven't exchanged a 'I love you' yet between the two of you, the closet thing that would be said was along the lines of: 'I'm fond of you' or 'I care about you'. But never 'I love you' but Bo couldn't deny the feelings he felt when he was around you, when he would think about you during those long days within the general store.
He loved you.
He wanted to tell you that right here, right now. But he stopped himself, afraid that he'd scare you off - afraid that you weren't ready yet. He'd understand, of course. But understanding wouldn't negate the sting he would feel if you didn't reciprocate those feelings, so he settled on dancing around that 'love' word as long as he can.
"You done workin', Ms. busy body?" He asked.
"Yup." You replied as you closed the shed doors shut, locking the heavy doors with a turn of a key.
"So what're you gonna do now? Just swelter away in this heat or--"
"You just don't give up, do you?"
"Nope, but you already know that, girl."
You bit your lip as your foot kicked the patch of grass that nestled within the dirt road, your eyes flicked over towards the distance behind Bo, as if you were decided something within your mind. When you settled on your answer the corner of your lips tugged into a grin, sticking your thumbs under the thick straps of your overalls you blurted out: "Follow me."
Bo followed you with his hand grasp into yours, cutting through tall grass and tangled shrubbery until boots met with a dusty trial that lead towards a canopy of willow trees and red oaks, the thick leaves of the trees shielded the two of you from the harsh summer sun. Sliver of golden rays slipped past the greenery as it casted light through the dimly lit woods.
Silence fell over the both of you like a blanket, but it wasn't uncomfortable, it was calming - welcoming. Your eyes would flick between him and the small dirt trial, smiling as his eyes would gaze at the small wildlife that would rummage through the bushes and wildflower beds.
"My Pa said he's got some ideas that're worth considering, if you'd lend a ear to hear 'em out," you mumbled as your foot kicked a rock away from the path. "He ain't the type to be so gung-ho about this kinda thing...You've got a silver tongue on you, that's for sure."
"I do got a way with words, don't I? How'd you think I got you?" He gloated which earned a playful slap on the arm from you.
"Don't get all cocky now, boy. If the twins go back on their word then my brother's will turn on you quicker than flies on pig shit." You jested as you both stepped side by side.
Bo smiled at that.
The once shy girl who stumbled into his store that could barely get a sentence out was now cracking jokes with him. It made him feel good to know that you're growing comfortable enough to show your personality - you were witty.
"Eh, I'll take my chances." Bo replied as he pulled a cigarette from the paper box and placing it between his plump lips. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched him lit the cigarette, the low ember glow of the fire igniting the tip casted a dull orange shadow across his handsome features. Pulling the cigarette away from his lips a cloud of hazy smoke plumed in front of him and the smell of tobacco hit your nose.
You weren't bothered that Bo was a smoker, your father was one too, so you were use to the strong smell. But you never tried a cigarette personally, much to Bo's pleasure. You remember one night after making love to him, Bo lit a cigarette as the both of your naked bodies laid flushed against each other within the soft bedsheets. Your head rested on his chest as you watched and you asked him if you could try it. The look on his face shocked you, Bo looked as if you'd grown three heads then.
He quickly denied your request, stating that smoking was a nasty and expensive habit. And with that pretty smile you had there was no way he'd encourage you to smoke in fear of ruining your teeth. He asked you if you wanted him to stop smoking around you, which you told him that you didn't mind. But to quell your curiosity Bo took a long drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke within his mouth and held a soft grip onto your jaw, puckering your lips.
With his lips lightly pressed onto yours - he blew the heavy smoke into your mouth - which quickly made you cough. It was different than tasting it on his lips after Bo finished a cigarette, the taste was stronger and the smoked harshly bit at your lungs and throat.
Needless to say after that day you didn't ask to try another cigarette again.
The trail that the two of you followed sloped downward and the thick summer air grew cooler with each step you took. With a hop over a gnarled root that separated dirt and sand the trees that once shielded you from the golden sun opened up, brown eyes were met with the simmering reflection of the sun that danced across the crystal clear water.
A lake.
A sharp whistle left Bo's lips as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it between his pointer and middle finger. He watched as dragonflies hovered over the blue water, how the lily pads clumped together at the edge of the lake, and how the sand clung onto shiny small geodes with each ripple of the water.
This place was beautiful.
"How'd you find the place?" Bo asked as he finished his cigarette, normally he'd flick the butt of it on the ground without a second thought, but the sight of this place made him open up the paper box and place it inside next to the rest of unsmoked cigarettes.
You turned on your heel to look at him, your over worked hands rested on your hips as you spoke.
"When I was thirteen I got into an argument with my brother, he kept pickin' on me after I lost a game of football - so I thought I could take him in a fight," you shrugged your shoulders as you watch Bo walk towards the edge of the water. "That wasn't the case, though. He was sixteen at the time and before I could even think about landing a punch on him he pushed me to the ground and knocked the wind right outta me. I cried and told him I hated him, and I ran as far away as I could. Then I stumbled here...My sanctuary."
"Feels like it..." Bo said as he glanced at you, watching you kick your mud covered boots off. You paused your movements, feeling his tender gaze that rested on your frame.
"The water is cold enough to cool you down from this heat." You explained.
"Oh, I see what this is...You tryna get me naked, y'know there's easier ways to do that, girl." Bo laughed which made you roll your eyes in playful annoyance. Sliding your socks off and stuffing them into your boots you giggled along with him.
"I just told you a heart-tuggin' story and all you can think about is me making a move on you," you paused as you tried to stifle your giggles. "I mean - you're right! But still, you don't have to call it out, Bo."
"But that's what you like about me, why would I stop statin' the obvious?" He replied as he kicked his shoes off too. Your hands unbuttoned the straps that held your overalls in place, making the heavy denim drop onto the sand. Bo's hands swiftly undone his button up shirt, slipping off the fabric along with the undershirt that rested on his lean yet muscular body, his pale olive chest was now under your needy gaze as his hands reached for his belt buckle.
"Hey, let me, I love doin' this part." You mumbled as your nimble fingers reached for his belt, which made Bo hold up his hands in a display of playful obedience, his brown eyes watching your hands unbuckle the belt that held his pants in place. Once the belt was undone, Bo kicked the pants off of his legs, now he stood in front of you with just his boxers on. You still wore the oversized shirt that stopped just above your midthigh, shielding your underwear from Bo's intense gaze.
"Now that ain't fair, honey. How come I'm almost stark naked and you got that shirt on?" Bo laughed as he tugged you closer towards him by the loose fitting fabric that draped over your body, he placed tender kisses onto your lips as you offered up an answer for him in between those fevered kisses.
"Well since you made such a convincing argument; I'll take it off, but I'm keeping my delicates on."
"Like I ain't seen you naked before - but okay, I'm keeping my boxers on too." Bo chuckled as his dark chestnut colored eyes grazed over your body, watching you remove the cotton shirt from your frame, pulling the fabric over your head and tossing it on the moss covered log. You were in your bra and panties yet the thin fabrics left nothing to the imagination as your nipples poked through your bra; Bo couldn't help but to stare at your half nude frame in awe.
With bare legs slowly sauntered into the freezing water and you let out a loud yelp, the sensation of freezing water nipping at your warm body. Even when it's the middle of summer this lake was always ice cold and goosebumps dotted across your bronzed skin.
You turn to face Bo who watched you from the edge of the water, he was lost in thought, and you noticed that his attention would slip into his mind the more you spent time with him. With a playful flick of your wrist, you splashed the lake water at Bo, making him jump as a mischievous smile lingered onto your lips.
"You can come in, y'know - the water's fine, I promise ain't no gators around these parts! Maybe..."
The twinkle of fireflies danced within the thick evening air and the once bright sun crept slowly behind the trees; painting the scenery in hues of blues. Birds that were hidden within the tall willow trees hushed their songs - only for their soothing melodies to be replaced with the loud hums of cicadas and the rustling of leaves from the wind. You and Bo swam for hours, but it didn't feel like it, you were shocked when he told you the time after checking his pocket watch.
You stood behind him as your hands rubbed his back while your fingers pressed into the small water droplets that clung onto his skin. He was slightly shivering from the cold lake water, the feeling of the cool breeze race against his body, and he clinched his jaw in an attempt to fight against his shivering. With gentle arms you held onto him, trying your best to trap as much body heat between the two of you.
"My god, baby. You're shakin'! You need some more meat on your bones." You giggled out, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
"You makin' fun of me, girl?" Bo laughed as he shook the water out of damp jet black hair. You squealed at the sudden feeling of cold water droplets flicking onto your skin, pulling away from Bo he quickly turned on his heel, grabbing your body back into his soaking embrace. He landed sloppy yet tender kisses on your cheek and neck, earning laughter from you under his touch.
The feeling of your giddy laughter against his bare chest sent him into a spiral. Your smile, your touch, your warmth.
You.
Everything about you made Bo feel as if he was home - as if he finally found the one thing in his life that he didn't realize was missing. And every time you two would separate from each other he would count down the seconds to see you again, to hear your voice, and to hold you within his arms.
His dark brown eyes peered into yours, smiling at the sight of your beautiful features, water from the lake clung within your long eyelashes and the short coils that framed your face. Underneath the sapphire colored evening your brown skin held onto the blue hues - as if you were blue yourself. And without thinking he blurted out: "I love you."
Your smile that rested on your face twitched downwards and you flinched back a bit at his words. Your arms were still wrapped around him but Bo could tell you were growing distant - he feared that this would happen.
"W-What...?" You whispered out in confusion, tilting your head to the side as you scanned Bo's face in hopes to understand what he meant by that. Love? He said he loves you, and hearing those words roll off of his tongue made you feel good - no it made you feel whole. Yet half of you denied that feeling. Surly he didn't mean it, right?
The sound of thunder cut into the tense silence that fell over the two of you, pulling away from Bo you reached for your overalls that rested onto the moss covered log. Stepping over jagged rocks you began to dress yourself - your back facing Bo in an attempt to avoid his eyes staring into you.
"I love you, darlin'. Please say somethin'..." Bo said as desperation hung on each and every word that he spoke, his eyes followed your sporadic movements, but he kept his distance. He knew that you weren't the best at communicating your thoughts and desires; so he acquiesced to your unspoken rule of not going 'too deep' into uncomfortable subjects like this. It took a lot of coaxing to even talk about sex with you openly. But Bo was also suppressing his true feelings about you, it was agonizing biting his tongue around you - he needed to let you know just how much you meant to him.
"You don't mean that." You replied as you turned to face him, your overalls hanging off of your hips, the straps were unbutton, so you wore them like pants. The hem of your panties peeked through the top of the denim, the soft fabric clashing with the dirt covered overalls. Your arms rested at your side and your face twisted with hurt, as if Bo said a cruel joke to you.
"I do, I mean it. I'm in love with you. And I-I'm down on my hands and knees beggin', baby...Beggin' you to just open up to me, just a little--"
"Bo, please!" You shouted, cutting him off. The whispers from the leaves rustling in the breeze echoed within your scattered mind as a tight lump formed in your throat. With a shallow breath of air, you continue to speak.
"Look at me, Bo...I'm not the kind of person people fall in love with, I'm just not built for that."
Bo spat out a curse in his native tongue as he began to dress himself too and he shook his head in disapproval at the unnecessary criticism you gave yourself. He couldn't believe his ears - he couldn't believe what you were saying.
"Why not?" Bo curtly asked and the loud clap of thunder rang through the hazy evening air, it would rain any minute now. You shrugged your shoulders at his question which earn you a bitter laugh from the man.
"Y-You should be with someone who ain't scared all the time, Someone who knows how to do this..." You stated, as Bo's eyes gazed into yours, taking in every single word that fell from your lips as you spoke.
"I-I don't don't know how to be what you need, Bo. I f-figured you'd realize that and move on - find a woman who is meant to be with you...Someone who isn't me." You rushed out and your once confident person deteriorated. You slowly reverted back into that shy woman that Bo met months ago.
"What do you think this is? Tell me. So, you think I only love you because you're some kind of fantasy, that what we shared is just some phase for me, or somethin'?" Bo's words were stern but they didn't lack the love he felt for you, it just pained him something awful hearing you swatting away his confession not because you didn't feel the same way.
But because you thought you didn't deserve it...
"I don't...I don't know." You choked out as your arms hugged yourself, making the wet bra strap that clung onto your skin slip off of your shoulder. For the first time in your relationship the pause of silence that you both shared was uncomfortable - agonizingly so. With a sigh Bo walked towards you, shortening the distance between both of your freezing bodies. Tiny raindrops fell from the swollen clouds that loomed overhead, the warm summer rain washed off the cold lake water that clung onto your skin.
"C'mere." Bo whispered as he opened his arms out to you; and you gladly entered his embrace. Your cheeks tingled with embarrassment and fear at the idea of scaring Bo away. You were never use to being treated with so much care - with so much kindness - and it overwhelmed you. You loved Bo, oh, God did you love him. You didn't want this connection to be severed by your own mistakes, so you thought keeping your distance would make him stay longer.
But keeping your feelings to yourself was a form of self-sabotage.
Your cheek rest against Bo's lean chest and you could hear just how fast his heart was racing, you weren't the only one who was nervous about losing this connection that you both shared. The once soft drizzle of rain began to beat down onto you and Bo harder, yet you stayed in his arms as his carful hands stroked your hair.
"You think I don't see you, girl? I see everything about you. The way you pick at your fingers before speakin', how you laugh when you're nervous, damn girl - even the way you fight back tears 'cause you think they'd make you look weak," he paused as his embrace tighten around your frame as the sting of tears blurred your vision. "They don't make you weak, you're brave - the bravest person I know and the world just don't get it. Yet you keep fightin', movin' along bein' yourself as the world casts you aside."
"Bo..."
"You're beautiful and I think about you all the time, you always show up in my mind from the moment I wake up to the second I fall asleep...I ain't felt this way in a long time, not like this. Girl, you really got a hold on me, so don't tell me that I don't love you." Bo finished as his fingers gingerly held onto your damp bra strap that hung off of your shoulder, placing the thin fabric over your collar bone.
The rain muffled out the sound of your racing heart beat that echoed through your head, your mouth slightly agape at Bo's confession. The feeling of being seen and understood was all you wanted - and he gave that to you without hesitation. Calloused hands cupped your face and a supportive thumb traced over your cheek, the feeling of love overcame you, and for the very first time in your life you let your guard down.
Hot summer rain beat down on you and Bo as thick raindrops slipped pass the canopy of leaves that hung above the two of you. With heavy footsteps your fingers interlocked tightly with his, both of you stumbling through the hazy fog. Stepping over gnarled vines, slick wet stones, and mud filled potholes that clung to the soles of your shoes - you both finally reached the edge of the woods. A loud crack of thunder made you jump within Bo's embrace, a breathless chuckle falling from his lips at your action.
Muffled sounds of wet shoes stomping onto the weather worn porch grounded you and the awning shield you and Bo from the heavy rain. A soft cast of ember light slipped pass the curtains that hung over the windows, your father was still downstairs - much to your dismay. Your calloused hands reached for the iron doorknob, twisting it gingerly in an vain attempt to not draw attention towards your presence of entering the house.
Your face twisted in slight annoyance at the sharp creak that the door made. With a tilt of your head you signaled Bo to follow you close by, the soft dripping sounds from your soaked close melted into the ticking of the grandfather clock that shielded your body from the living room your father resided in. Tiptoeing through the hallway you and Bo finally reached the white narrow staircase - the wave of anxiety slowly melted off of your body until a familiar raspy voice cut through the silence like a sharpen knife.
"That you, girl?" Your father blurted out, not bothering getting up from his seat. You and Bo froze in place as his eyes flicked towards you in worry. Your father was well aware of your relationship with Bo; but sneaking him in your bedroom without a ring on your finger is...Indecent to say the least. Your father was old fashion and if he saw how Bo clung onto you right now - he would probably have a heart attack.
Placing a finger over your lips, you signaled to Bo to keep quiet and you spoke: "Yea', Pa! It's me...Got caught in the rain is all, finna head to my room now."
Bo's face was pressed onto your wet shoulder as he tried to muffle the soft laugher that fell from his lips. You rolled your eyes and slightly elbowed him, which only earned you a playful squeeze on your sides, and his skillful hands slip under your soaked denim overalls. His hands cupped your breast through your bra - you didn't bother putting your shirt back on - you only wore the oversized denim as the wet fabric of your shirt hung lazily within your hand.
A low grunt of acceptance from your father made you race up the stairs with lightning speed, your fingers interlocking with Bo's again, and you lead him to your bedroom - locking the door as soon as he entered behind you.
"Uh, uh. Didn't know you was sneaky." Bo teased.
"Keep your voice down; these walls are paper thin..." You muttered.
"Tch, that's gon' be a challenge then. Y'know you loud in bed, baby." Bo beamed out as his handsome face melted into a mischievous yet playful expression. You gasp at his words and shook your head in disapproval as your hands slipped off the rain soaked overalls.
"Only reason I'm loud is 'cause you fuck me too good." You replied as Bo's once cocky demeanor shattered into shock. His eyes widen like saucers at your words, he was the one who would do all the dirty talking in bed, and you would hide your face in embarrassment with each word he spoke. But now something within you changed - as if a fire within your core was ignited - and Bo was ready to stoke that flame. Before he could whistle out praises you spoke again.
"Take those wet close off, hang 'em on that radiator, I'll make sure they get washed by the time you leave."
"Yes, ma'am." Bo sighed out as he followed your instructions. He tossed his damp vest over the heated metal, his hands quickly slipped off his grey pants, and lastly he removed his soaked white button up. He was only in his boxers now as his brown irises flicked towards your hunched frame that nestled within your closet, with a sigh of victory you pushed yourself on your feet, and soft towels rested within your arms as you faced Bo again.
"Them boxers too." You stated, as you tossed the towels onto the bed, only one was still in your tight grasp. A shiver ran up Bo's spine at your commanding words, his member stiffening within his underwear, straining against the damp fabric. He didn't tut out a comeback like he'd normally does, he just listened to your requestion without hesitation, tucking his thumbs under the tight waistband as he slide the fabric off of his toned body.
Bo stood naked in the middle of your room, the cool air within your home sent a wave of goosebumps on his skin, not to mention that your newfound confidence made him shiver with excitement and anticipation. You walked over to your lover, closing the unbearable distance as your placed your hand over his defined chest, your other hand drying him off with the soft cotton towel. Praises in Mandarin escaped Bo's lips as he melted under your touch, his hands holding onto your waist as he lulled his head back, the towel now catching the rain that clung onto his neck.
You placed a tender kiss on the crook of his neck as words in his native language rolled off of his tongue, Bo taught you phrases here and there to the point were you could understand some of the words he spoke, but the language was still foreign to you. Yet you understood him in this exact moment despite the language barrier, he was showering you in nothing but adoration and reverence.
He needed to be closer to you.
You moved the half damp towel down his pale olive skin, your fingers tracing the dips and valleys of his muscles as you dried him off, your hands stopping just above his jet black happy trail. Tense eyes stared back into yours as you softly spoke, your lips ghosting over his open mouth, it was as if he was trying to taste your sweet words.
"You said I got a hold on you, huh?" You whispered as your hands wrapped around his thick shaft, you began pumping his dick within your hand, making the man moan onto your shoulder. His hips bucked into your movements as you continued to jerk him, precum creating a natural lubricate, yet it wasn't wet enough for your liking. Pulling your hand away for split second you licked your fingers, slicking your digits with saliva. Bo watched on in awe as you wrapped your hand around him again. "You ain't lyin, well - your body ain't lyin, at least."
Bo was hard, probably the hardest he'd been in his life. He couldn't believe that the same woman who couldn't even maintain eye contact when they first met was touching him like this, turning him into puddy in her hands. Your lips wrapped around his neck as you began to kiss at his skin, the thumping of his pulse raced against your mouth, you were determined to leave a hickey behind as you sucked between bites.
Bo was the one who taught you how to make one, of course.
"Fuck, baby." He choked out as his eyes rolled back from the pleasurable sensation of your hand pumping him and your tongue soothing the bites you left on his neck. With a low wet pop your mouth stopped sucking at his skin - a purple and redish bruise bloomed across his olive skin - an you smiled into the kiss you planted on his needy lips. Your tongues danced in unison with each other and the feeling of his cock twitching within your hand earned a muffled moan from you.
But you quickly pulled away.
Bo hissed out a plea in Mandarin which made you place a finger over your lips, reminding him to keep quiet. Your fingers interlocked with his as you lead him towards your plush bed, his dark brown irises not daring to break away from your swaying hips with each step you made. Reaching for the other towels that rested on the warm sheets of your bed, you tossed the damp towel onto the ground, replacing a dry one within your fingers seconds later.
Playfully you tossed the towel over his head, resting it on his wet jet black hair that clung onto his skin, and he chuckled at your action. Taking your hint he began to dry his hair - yet the unbearable feeling of needing to be touched again raced through his entire being - you slowly slipped off your panties. The damp cotton hitting the ground with a soft thud.
His dark eyes trailed over your nude lower half as he bit his lip, the sight of your pussy made Bo's already stiffened cock jump with anticipation, a small whine escaping his mouth, the sound of his groan dripped with nothing but need. Noticing this with a laugh you sank onto the floor, resting your weight on your knees your hazy and lust filled eyes looked up at him.
Placing a feather soft kiss on the flush tip of his cock, filling your open mouth with him. Squeezing your bare thighs together to ease the ache of arousal that nipped at your core, your eyes shut tightly as the familiar yet comforting taste of Bo filled your mouth with each inch you took of him. Bo's body twitched above you as the muscles within his abdomen flexed from your tongue dragging against the thick vein that adorn his thick member, lulling his head back he placed the towel that was used to dry his hair over his mouth, muffling the moans that fell from his lips.
Nimble fingers moved up and down from the base of his cock to your mouth, you were still a novice when it came to oral, but this was going better than last time. You could barely fit him in your mouth without gagging previously, he was big and you still had some challenge, but that didn't stop you from trying. In fact it only made you want to push yourself even more - to see just how much you could fit his dick in your mouth.
"Mhm..." Bo voice groaned through the towel that shielded his mouth, he thought keeping quiet wouldn't be this difficult - but the way your tongue swirled around the tip of his member had him reconsidering his ability to do so. His calloused hand massaged your scalp, thick fingers latching onto the wet coils within your hair as his eyes rolled back the deeper you took him in your mouth, you hummed under his touch and the vibrations from you moaning around him sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body.
Looking down his chestnut colored eyes peered deeply into yours, which only egged you on to pump him faster with your hand, your tongue still swirling circles around him as you hollowed out your cheeks with each suck. Your long lashes blinking with each inch you took into your mouth, the taste of precum dancing on your tongue deliciously, and small tears of pushing your self well pass your limit clung onto the corners of your eyes. With a gag you pulled your swollen mouth off of him, the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip with the tip of his cock snapped with your sudden movements, yet your hands still pumped him as he rocked his hips under your touch.
The slick wet sound of you jerking him off echoed softly through your room, the cracking of thunder and the rain beating against your window muffled the raunchy sound just enough for prying ears not to hear, but you and Bo could hear it - both of you soaking up the sound as if it was music.
"Does that feel good, baby?" You whispered against his dick that rested on your lips, your hand still pumping him, and your tongue playfully flicked over the base of his tip.
You eyes still locked with his.
"Yes, my love. Fuck - I needa have you." Bo begged as he reached for you, pulling you up on your feet by your arms, and he planted a fevered kiss onto your open mouth. Your teeth bumped into his as he desperately clawed at the clasp of your bra, taking off the soaked fabric until your fully nude, just like him. Your skin was slightly wet from the rain, but Bo could care less - he needed you in this exact moment and he couldn't wait to have you. Grabbing the plush skin of your ass he placed you onto the bed, not breaking the kiss until you laid on your forearms.
Bo lips trailed down your body as his strong hand cupped your breast, kneading the soft skin as his fingers rolled your sensitive nipple between calloused fingers. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop your moans from slipping out as his head dipped between your thighs, his lips ghosting over your dripping core, and Bo placed both of your legs over his shoulders as he kneeled in front of you.
"I've been waitin' for this all day." He mumbled to himself, but those words made you gasp out a shallow breath that you didn't know you were holding, it felt good being desired so greatly. For a man to be on his knees between your legs - looking up at you as if you were a work of art - a holy entity that needed to be worshipped.
Bo placed a tender kiss on your inner thigh before dipping his head lower, and with a gentle lick he ran his tongue agonizingly slow across your soaked pussy. He was savoring the taste of you as if it was a delicacy, his warm tongue stopped at your clit, flattening the muscle over your sensitive bud until he repeated his movements.
You arched your back under his touch as your hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair, his soft tresses tangling around your nimble fingers. Your relax legs hung lazily over his broad shoulders as his mouth wrapped around your clit, his fingers slowly entering you as you rocked your hips against his face.
"Oh, my--Bo..." You moaned against the palm of your hand as Bo skilled mouth and tongue worked over your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit with each long swipe of his tongue against your core. The pleasurable sensation made your cheeks tingle and your face twist with pure ecstasy as Bo gently pushed his ring and middle finger inside of you, the bed underneath your trembling body slightly creaking as you snapped your head back from the feeling of his thick fingers inside of you.
"So good, I could die between your thighs if you'd let me, my love." Bo groaned out against your wet sex, you squirmed under his touch and heavy words. "You taste like heaven."
Slowly he moved his fingers in and out, his knuckles grazing against your swollen clit and your legs began to shake, but that only made him ramp up his movements even more. Your hands gripped the wet bedsheets that were soaked with rain water that clung onto your naked body and your chest heaved with each thrust his fingers made into you. Your feet fluttered, kicking the air as your rolled your hips, and the familiar feeling of reaching your climax bubbled within your core. You were close, and it seemed like Bo knew this too.
"W-Wait, baby." You yelped out which made Bo pause his movements, he pulled his mouth away from your clit, but his thick fingers were still nestled deep inside of you.
"What's wrong, you okay?" He asked, which made you nod your head. Catching your breath you continued to fuck yourself against his fingers, finally you spoke.
"I want us to finish, together - at the same time..." You whispered which made Bo smile from ear to ear.
"And how we gonna do that?" He asked as he slowly pulled his slick fingers out of you, the sensation making you shiver in delight, and you watched him placed his fingers within his mouth. His tongue lapping up the juices that clung onto his thick fingers - making sure that none went to waste.
You crashed your lips onto his as Bo hovered over you, tasting yourself on his mouth made your head race with lust, and your legs wrapping around his waist. But to his surprise you flipped positions, your legs caging him in as you straddled his waist, his hands holding onto your hips as he steadies you in place. Your forehead pressed against Bo's as his hand held the base of his cock, leaning forwards he lined himself with you, and with a satisfying sigh escaping both of your lips you sat down onto his thick member.
You both moaned into each others mouth, trying your best to quiet each other, and once your body adjusted to his dick stretching you out - you leaned back and began to ride him. Your bed squeaking with each movement of your hips snapping into him, but the thunderstorm was so loud, you're confident no one could hear the rusty bedsprings. Laying flat on his back Bo's large hands gripped into the softness of your hips, his fingers digging deep within your skin that you're sure they'd leave bruises behind.
Your palms rested on his hard chest as you used him to help you bounce on his thick member, your breast bouncing in his face while your wet pussy swallowed him whole - your body was finally use to being fucked by him. A sigh of pleasure fell from Bo's lips as he whispered praises to you in Mandarin, switching to English when you stopped your bouncing to roll your hips against him.
"You so pretty, baby--Fuck!" Bo hissed out as his eyes rolled back and his head lulled to the side, but you gripped his jaw, turning his head back to face you as you continued to ride him. He bit his lip at your action and a loud whimper fell from his mouth, his voice piercing through the rain and you're sure it could be heard through your shared home. The sounds of footsteps pacing up the stairs made you halt your tracks, and Bo groaned in agony as he lightly bucked his hips into you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...You just feel too damn good." He whispered through heavy breathing, you and Bo looked towards your locked door as the footsteps grew louder. But by the grace of God the footsteps continued to walk pass your room, not stopping once until they faded into the background again.
"We gotta be quiet, baby," You whispered as your thumb stroke over his chiseled jawline. "It's hard for m-me too, you filling me up like this, but just relax and lemme take care of you, ugh...I promise we can be as loud as we want next time."
He didn't bother to spit out any words of acknowledgment - he just nodded his head desperately - and without missing a beat Bo's lips wrapped around your thumb. His sharp teeth grazing the skin on your thumb as he latched onto it, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked, silently signaling you to continue.
Which you gladly did without hesitation.
You started to move your hips again, continuing to bounce on his thick cock, the slick sounds of the back of your thighs hitting his legs with each thrust he made into you echoed through your body - you were fucking this man straight on his back - he's quite literally under your control. And he wouldn't have it any other way, he loved how good you felt squeezing around him, and his eyes snapped shut with a guttural moan.
You've rode him before, but not like this, and it was taking everything within him not to come in seconds. A creamy mess was quickly formed between the two of you, due to the friction and your wetness - the sensation of the velvety natural lubricant made your head spin as you rocked your hips with frenzy. Bo's hands left your hips as his strong arms wrapped around your waist in a tight hug, his hips rocks into yours, meeting you halfway as the creak of the bed slipped through the rain sounds.
Feeling the familiar pressure building up within core you leaned into Bo's embrace, your breast pressing firmly against his chest, and your head resting on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against the shell of his ear as tears of pleasure nipped at your eyes, the heavy tears slowly falling down your warm cheeks with each tender word you sang out, the words that only he could hear.
The words that he needed to hear.
"I love you...My Bo, I love you so much." You whispered and the feeling of his cock that nestled deeply within your core twitched at your words, he was dangerously close too. You and Bo weren't practicing the 'safest' of sex, to say the least - he would aways pull out and finish on his hand or your thigh depending on what position you both were in at the time. But when he was close, he would always tell you, asking where you would prefer him to finish.
"Fuck, I love you too, baby. I'm gonna...W-Where you want this?"
"Don't stop, please. I-I needa feel you, baby. At least once...Fill me up and make me feel whole."
And just like that Bo pressed his mouth against your neck as his eyes shut tightly, his hold onto your frame became vice-like as his orgasm ripped through his body like a tidal wave. His teeth bit into your skin in an attempt to muffle his moans as his release hit him and crashed into you, finishing inside of you as he bucked his hips forward lazily, his cum filled you to the brim, it was too much and the warm sensation made you shiver out in delight - he was giving you his everything.
It seemed endless as your thighs locked onto his, your body trembling from the warm sensation of being filled with his seed, the creamy mess of both of your orgasm froth between the two of you, clinging onto both of your pubic bones and abdomen. And with one last rocking of your hips you whimpered against his burning hot skin, the knot of lust that tugged at your core finally releasing.
Heavy breathing filled the cool air as Bo lovingly stroked your hair, grounding himself as his rapid heart rate steadied. You leaned into his touch as your cheek press firmly onto his rising chest, his dick was still inside of you - but you wouldn't mind the idea of him being inside of you like this for hours if he offered.
"Shit...I need a cigarette," Bo mumbled under his breath, which made you bellow out a sharp chuckle, a lopsided grin tugging onto your features. He looked down at you, laughter leaving his lips too. "You really laid it on me, girl. Yea'...you stuck with me now."
"And I wouldn't have it any other way...I love you, Bo."
Ditzy!reader has such a praise kĂŻnk like omg girl we get itđđ
Smoke knows you have that confidence in you, you just need a little reassuring! Sometimes heâll give you a good pep talk before going into a place, lift your chin up and fix something about your outfit he saw wasnât right. Heâll say something like âDonât overwork that pretty mind âf yers. Ainât shit you canât handle.â Or heâs giving acaress of his hand on your cheek, or giving your thigh a squeeze. And after you say what you need to properly your eyes are immediately looking at Smokes for approval. He doesnât mind though, give you a little curt but pleased nod that makes you wanna fall on top of him and roll around in his warmth while you giggle.
Or when heâs drilling his meaty length inside your sopping walls, your head pulled to the side with hearts in your eyes. Salvating at the sweat dripping down the side of his face that you want to lick up, youâre mewling out, âIs good âLijah, itâs hck- itâs good?â
He lets out a grumble of curses, damned at how sexy you look all fucked out and needy. Pretty pussy clamping down on him like your aching for his cum, his lips fall to your neck, your chin, leaving sloppy kisses on your lips while he gives you slow sledgehammer into your heat. Crown of his head pressing that special spot you love so much.
âCourse it is darlin- fuuuuck me, yer wonderful princess.â
It only makes you moan louder, creaming his length as he holds you close, letting your nails claw down his back as he doesnât stop railing you, only fucking your through it. Pushing your curls back as heâs got your head inbetween his bicep.
He groans, thrusting his cock into you faster, dirtier, âShit, you can take this baby, canât you? Youâre my good girl, aintchu? Donâtcha wanna make yer husband cum?â
nanamiâs veiny cock stretched you open over the sink, the dishes long forgotten in your hands. you could feel your knees threatening to give out every time he snapped his hips forward, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks as loud moans left your parted lips. âkentoâpleaseââ
nanami's gaze never left your body. he observed how it jiggled with even the slightest movement. you could feel every vein of him inside you, his pink tip brushing deliciously against your cervix.
your husband pressed his damp forehead against your shoulder as he slammed his hips into you relentlessly, cock twitching at your tightness. your own slick dripped down your thighs.
"looking so pretty for meâfuck, so tightâlike the perfect little wife.â he mumbled, unable to stop himself. sliding his hand down to rub excruciatingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, which you responded by letting out a sharp cry.
you could feel yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm, moaning loudly enough for the entire building to hear (already bracing yourself for the noise complaints you were undoubtedly going to receive tomorrow). you bit your bottom lip, trying your best to muffle the sounds escaping you. "nanamiâfeels sâgood!" you gasped. "so deep, kentoâgonnaâ"
you weren't able to finish your words as a warm wave of pleasure washed over your body, leaving you shaking and gushing on him. "yes, darling. make a mess on kento. such a good girl." nanami gritted through his teeth.
"please, cum inside me. i need your cum" you whimpered.
nanami's cock twitched once, twice, before he came inside you with a loud groan. filling you so deep you were dripping with his cum. his hips snapped forward one last time before he slowly pulled out and held you as you steadied yourself.
"did i leave you unsatisfied last night, kento?" you joked breathlessly, and the two of you chuckled.
âi fear that would be impossibleâ he replied softly. "iâm sorry, my love. you just looked too gorgeous."
you adjusted your dress, turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your soft lips against his. there was nothing more nanami could wish for.
.
.
.
made by toruslut. idk how i feel abt this one but ugh isnât he just so dreamy
Sheriff!clark who loves playing this little game with you on quiet summer nights when the backroads are empty and the moon hangs low over the cornfields.
He tails you for a mile or two, those bright red and blue lights finally flashing in your rearview, painting the dashboard in slow, pulsing color. Your heart kicks up the second you hear the crunch of gravel under his boots as he approaches. When you roll the window down, there he isâhat tipped low, jaw tight, that star pinned to his chest catching the light like a warning.
âSomething wrong, Mr. Officer?â you ask, all soft and sweet, batting your lashes like you donât already know exactly how this ends.
Clark doesnât smile. He just hooks a thumb in his belt and rumbles, âStep out of the vehicle, maâam.â
The second your feet hit the dirt heâs on you, spinning you around and pressing you front-first against the warm trunk of your car. His big hands are everywhereâsliding up your thighs, squeezing your hips, palming your breasts through your thin sundress while he leans in close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath on your neck.
âYou know how fast you were going?â he growls, voice low and rough like gravel under tires. One hand slips between your legs, cupping you possessively, fingers teasing just enough to make your knees weak. âReckless driving. Gonna have to write you up for that.â
You bite your lip, arching back into him. âIs there⊠any other way I can pay for it, Sheriff?â The smirk you feel against your ear is pure sin.
Next thing you know, heâs got you in the back of the cruiser, door barely shut before heâs yanking your dress up around your waist. The leather seat sticks to your skin as he settles between your thighs, uniform shirt still buttoned but pants open just enough. He fucks you hard and deep, one hand braced on the roof of the car, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks youâll trace tomorrow with a secret smile.
Every thrust rocks the whole vehicle. Your moans fog the windows while Clarkâs voiceâhusky, wreckedâkeeps up the game between kisses and bites along your throat. âBad girls get whatâs coming to them⊠thatâs it, sweetheart. Pay for your ticket like a good girl.â
When you finally come undone around him, gasping his name (and âofficerâ for good measure), he follows right after with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt like he never wants to leave.
Afterward heâs all soft kisses and gentle hands again, fixing your dress, brushing your hair out of your face, murmuring how much he loves his pretty little criminal. You just smile up at him, dazed and glowing, already thinking about which road youâll âspeedâ down next week.
The hotel door clicked shut, sealing out the muted hum of the city outside. Nanami let out a long, slow sigh as he set his briefcase down by the desk. He reached to loosen the knot of his tie with a sharp tug before pulling it over his head and tossing it onto the arm of the single chair.
Before he could even take off his suit jacket, his phone vibrated in his palm. The caller ID brought a sudden, subtle shift to the tight line of Nanami's jaw. He slid the screen open, pressing the phone to his ear as he leaned back against the desk. "Hey, love," he murmured. His voice was lower than usual, roughened by hours of corporate small talk, but laced with a quiet, easy warmth reserved only for you.
"Hey," your voice came through the speaker, instantly cutting through the lingering tension in Nanami's shoulders. "How was your day today?"
"It wasn't too bad," Nanami replied, his eyes drifting down to his leather shoes as he kicked them off. "Still exhausting, though. I just made it back to the hotel. Have you eaten dinner yet?"
"Mhm, had some takeaway," you said. There was a brief pause on the line, the kind of quiet that carried the weight of the distance between you. "I miss you."
The words hit him right in the chest, a sharp pang of longing making Nanami close his eyes. "I miss you, too," he said softly, meaning every syllable. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, pushing the strands back. "Alright... I'm going to have a shower."
"Okay," you hummed, a yawn clipping the edge of your words. "Call me back when you're done. I love you."
"I love you. Speak soon."
Nanami waited for the line to go dead before lowering the phone, the sudden silence of the room feeling twice as heavy now. He stepped over to the bed, reaching out to click on the bedside lamp. The small knob turned, instantly bathing the crisp white sheets in a warm, low glow.
Standing in the newly lit space, Nanami finally shed his suit jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. Reaching into the inside breast pocket of the jacketâthe secure spot where he always kept his most important itemsâhis calloused fingers brushed against the familiar, stiff edge of a photo.
He pulled it out, intending to just set it on the nightstand before his shower. But as he unbuttoned his shirt and stripped down to his dark blue boxers, leaving his tailored clothes in a rare, disorganized pile, Nanamiâs gaze locked onto the small square of film.
In the dim, sterile glare of the lamp he had just switched on, the polaroid felt like a visual hallucination. The lighting in the photo was golden and overexposed, radiating a warmth that this room desperately lacked. There you were, caught mid-laugh on that beach in Malaysia from your last trip together. The ocean breeze was catching the hem of your white sundress, a single strap slipping carelessly off your shoulder. You looked bright, carefree, and entirely alive in the heat of the coast.
The shower was forgotten.
Nanami moved away from the chair, the weight of his exhaustion swallowed by a throbbing, pulsing ache. He sank onto the edge of the mattress and shifted his large frame back against the pillows. As he settled, his glasses slid down the bridge of his noseâblurring the rest of the room and leaving nothing but you in sharp focus.
Squinting through the shadows, his eyes traced the deep, low dip of the white sundress in the polaroidâthe way it beautifully revealed your cleavage made his throat go completely dry.
He couldnât tear his eyes away. His breathing hitched, a sudden, punishing ache tightening in his groin as his gaze lingered on your cleavage. Your skin still gleamed in the photograph from where he had slowly rubbed sunscreen over your body, his palms smoothing the lotion down the slope of your breasts until you were glistening in the sunâdeliberately slipping his thumbs under the fabric of your dress to tease your nipples until they were hard under his touch.
The dark blue fabric of his boxers was already beginning to strain, his length thickening painfully against the cotton from the sheer force of the visual. Hearing your voice just moments ago had been no comfort, but seeing you like this now, with his skin still burning from the memory and the distance between you feeling like an ocean, it was an agonizing temptation.
His mind instantly raced back to that night in Malaysia. He remembered taking you back into the villa, his fingers catching on the fabric of your sundress to slide the straps down your arms. Burying his face in the crook of your neckâhis tongue licking a wet trail up your throat, sucking greedily at your skin until you whimpered beneath him. His broad, calloused palms clamped around your breasts, kneading the soft flesh.
Nanami could still feel the exact sensation of sliding his thick, leaking cock between them, using the tight, sweltering cleavage of your chest to ruthlessly pump his lengthâwatching your tits hug his slick shaft while he rasped how badly he wanted to stretch you wide open. The memory was so loud, so violently clear, that his restraint completely dissolved.
Low and frustrated, he groaned under his breath, finally reaching down to cup the heavy bulge straining against his boxers. His hand moved downward past that golden line of hairâthe faint blonde happy trail disappearing beneath the dark blue cottonâhis gaze locked entirely on the curve of your waist in the photo.
A ragged, breathless sound escaped his throat as he grazed his thumb over his throbbing tip through the fabricâmaking his stomach muscles flex tightly as the first slick beads of pre began to dampen the material. Unable to handle the restriction for another second, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and finally released his aching cock.
As the veiny, heavy weight sprang free, Nanami's calloused hand wrapped around it desperatelyâfisting the pre-cum up and down his hard length, his thumb deliberately smearing the wetness over the sensitive head to begin a slow, torturous stroke. Nanami was a man who prided himself on absolute control, but right now, every ounce of usual discipline was utterly gone, burned away by the raw ache of missing you.
He dragged his palm down to the very base of his shaft, knuckles brushing against his thighs before wrapping tightly to pull all the way back up to that leaking head. The slick pre coated his skin, creating a wet, sliding friction that had him closing his eyes just to focus on the sensation.
His brow furrowed deeply, sweat beginning to bead along his hairline and dampen his blonde strands. He kept his eyes wideârefusing to blink, his gaze entirely captivated by your carefree smile, the thin fabric of the sundress hugging your tits, and your warm, shiny skin glowing in the polaroid.
In the sudden heat of illusion, the sterile white noise of the hotel AC unit transformed into the distant crash of ocean waves. He wasnât in this lonely room anymore. He was back in that villa, pinning you down into the mattress, pressing his lips to the sensitive column of your throat and breathing in the intoxicating scent of salt air and perfume, burying himself balls deep inside you.
Nanamiâs hips twitched against the sheets as a large hand clamped around his length, pumping his fist up and down his shaft. Eyes shuttered tight, the memory consumed him entirelyâimagining the slick drag of his cock against your wet, parted lips, the crushing friction of being squeezed tight between your tits, and the maddening sensation of driving deep inside your cunt. The urge to hammer into you over and over until you were stretched wide, stuffed completely full of hot seed, almost made him cum right there.
"Ah... fuck," he breathed out. The wire rimmed glasses slid further down his nose, utterly forgotten as his grip tightened. A faster, desperate pace took over, driven by the pleasure coiling tight and demanding inside his lower belly. Here was a man completely stripped of his carefully constructed rulesâentirely at the mercy of a single polaroid of you.
His chest heaved, the stark white hotel sheets bunching beneath his massive frame as the rhythm fractured. Keeping a slow pace was no longer an option. Nanamiâs knuckles went white, his rough hand fisting his veiny, engorged shaft with a punishing, frantic speed.
The sound of wet squelches filled the quiet room, his jaw locking as his thumb smeared slick over the rigid edge of his head. He brought the polaroid closer to his face, vision blurring with sweat as his eyes traced the line of your collarbone, the curve of your waist, and the soft smile he missed so dearly.
âSo beautiful... ah,â he choked out, his voice dropping roughly into a low, rumbling groan. âYou're so fucking beautiful, sweetheart...'"
The praise was a desperate murmur, breathed directly into the empty air of the hotel roomâas if you were right there beneath him to hear it. His hips jerked upward, mimicking the exact rhythm of driving into your cunt. His thumb swept over his leaking pink tip sending a jolt straight to his groin. The coiled tension in his lower belly tightened into a hard, inescapable knotâhis balls tightening. He was right on the edge, completely consumed by the ghost of your touch.Â
Nanami choked out your nameâa ragged, breathless prayer against the quiet room as he finally came. He ruined his hand as the first hot bursts of cum shot straight past his fingers, splashing against his lower stomach before the rest of the thick, heavy load spilled over his knuckles and flooded the blonde patch of hair at his groin.
âF-fuck, I miss you so much,â he groaned, his voice completely undone. Desperate fingers refused to stop, milking his length dry, forcing the oversensitive shaft through those last few strokes while thick, hot cream continued to drip down his twitching cock and palm.
He stayed frozen like that for a few seconds, his chest heaving, his fingers trembling where they still gripped his settling length. The lingering echo of the Malaysian surf dissolved back into the sterile, humming silence of the hotel room.
Slowly, the drugged fog of pleasure began to recede, leaving behind an aching exhaustion. Nanami let out a long, unsteady breath that trembled past his lips. He let his head sink back into the pillows, his glasses sitting crookedly on his nose. With slow movement, he used his clean hand to lift the polaroid back up to his face.
In the dim, warm light of the bedside lamp, you were still thereâsmiling, carefree, and beautifully out of reach. He stroked a thumb over the glossy surface of the photoâas if he were truly touching youâbefore setting it gently on the nightstand.
He forced his heavy limbs to move, sitting up on the edge of the bed to clean himself up. The cold reality of the business trip settled back over his shoulders like a lead weight, but as he looked back at the small square of film under the lamp, the lingering warmth in his chest reminded him exactly what he was working so hard to return to.
Nanami reached to grab a few tissues from the nightstand, his fingers still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of the release. But just as his hand brushed the box, his phone buzzed loudly right beside it. He paused, a drop of sweat rolled down his jaw as he looked down at the bright screen.
(nsfw)...Cowboy!Clark who calls you his âlittle honeysuckleâ as a sweet, filthy nickname because the taste of your pussy reminds him of the delicate honeysuckle flowers that used to grow along the fence back home on the farm.
Every spring heâd lean over that fence and spend long, lazy minutes sipping the tiny droplets of nectar from the blooms, savoring their light, sugary sweetness on his tongue. Now he spends those same long, lazy minutes between your thighs, burying his face in your soaked cunt and pulling that same sweet nectar from you with slow, hungry licks and deep, greedy sucksâgroaning like heâs found something even better than the flowers ever gave him.
He whispers it low and rough while heâs got your legs draped over his broad shoulders, voice muffled against your dripping folds: âFuck, little honeysuckle⊠youâre drippinâ so sweet for me tonight.â
He growls it against your clit when heâs teasing you right to the edge, flicking his tongue just how you like it: âCâmon, honeysuckle, give me more of that sugar. Let me drink you up.â
And he rasps it like a prayer when he finally sinks his thick cock into you, forehead pressed to yours, hips rolling deep and steady: âThatâs it, my little honeysuckle⊠soak my dick just like those pretty flowers soaked my tongue.â
He never lets you forget itâevery time he eats your pussy, heâs chasing that same addictive, sun-warmed sweetness he remembers from home.
a/n: this is like superrrr self indulgent bc honeysuckle flowers used to grow through my neighbors fence into my yard & i would lick them up every year & then they randomly stopped </3
when he walks, it demands attention. every step filling up the sound, the area, the density around you so you know that heâs coming.
itâs even in the slight shake of the little trinkets adorning your coffee table as he drops in the couch, his heavy arms on either side of the long couch back.
or how small everything looked in his hands, how loud it was when he set something down even if it was meant to be light.
how harsh a slap to your ass felt every time you walked past him.
or when his big hands engulfed your waist no matter what you did.
how his body covered yours if you were even washing the dishes, grabbing your keys, beneath, over, under him and even in the shower.
even his fucking shadow dominated yours.
he was just big. and you loved it.
you loved every aspect of it, when he would be fucking so deep, the low drag of his dick pulling out from inside you till just his tip remained and he slammed back inside of you.
it was mesmerizing how heavy he was everywhere. how he didnât need to do much barely lifting a finger or flexing a muscle to move you in any position he wanted.
but it was perfect watching him in missionary his long, bulky figure sweaty above you, his arms anchored at the sides of your head.
steady for him and a reminder for you of how fucking strong he was. how he could hold you in a armlock and fuck you how he wanted.
or he could bend you over anywhere, anyhow and take you cause you were his.
youâd imagine thatâs your favorite position anything that demonstrated his otherworldly strength. the slight cut off of your airflow turning your moans get lighter and breathy while he fucked you on his lap.
or maybe a full nelson, feeling the stretch of your legs as sukuna forced you past what you thought your limit was, feeling the burn as he huffed only focusing on cumming and not the desperate squirm of your body with the new found angle.
but no.
your favorite position was missionary, missionary since you can wrap your legs around the sturdy expanse of his waist as he pressed back inside of you.
your arms could wrap, and scratch around his back and pull his large frame over to give you another kiss.
but your favorite part was when youâd press your hand firmly in the middle of his large back, catching him off guard and pressing all 280 pounds of muscle in top of you until you felt your chest constrict.
some might assume youâre a masochist, torturing yourself like this, feeling your body fight underneath your boyfriends as you chased your orgasm.
or maybe feeling the dark tingle in your lower abdomen as he nipped at your neck, eyes slightly wider than usual watching you heave below him but not wanting to stop.
and how hard it was you came when he finally accepted his fate and lessened the weight in his arms to lie fully on you, hearing the breathless gasp escape out your mouth while you scratch and cum helplessly under him.
but even regular life wasnât much better.
sukuna could chalk it up to a kink, a sick desire you had or a underlying urge to be close to him.
but he couldnât understand this.
on the train youâd always push to get on the crowded one, even with another a few minutes begin.
insisting that you stood at the door and he covered you, and every single time without fail he crushes you.
his hard body swinging from the influx of people or the harsh curve of the train, pressing you further and further to the door. and itâs not like you would move away, or that you could.
but he would observe your gleaming eyes, the tight hold youâd have on his dress shirt and the bite of your lips as you finally took a deep shaky breath when he would finally get to back an inch away.
though he was also concerned when it was time to sleep.
âcâmonnnn kunaâ youâd whine spread like a starfish out on your bed while he you watched your shirtless boyfriend at the end of the bed.
whose arms were folded, his eyebrows scrunched as he watched you almost scared.
âthis is concerning even for you.â
âplease baby, iâm always on top of you anyways.â
âno.â
âno?â
âno.â
yet and still he found himself, not even ten minutes later, laid out on top of you his heavy chest crushing yours again as you hummed underneath him pleased.
âthere is no way youâre comfortable under thereâ, his muffled voice answered as you basically purred, rubbing his back.
âvery.â
âand no way you can breathe.â
âgotten used to it.â
youâre unreal. but still he couldnât be too bothered watching your light breathes when he turned with his bed head and see the small smile splayed out in your face.
and you?
this wouldnât the last time youâd want sukunaâs full weight.
The Victorian-style house looked a bit creepy, but rather cute. Very pinkish. Perfectly serene for your remote job and longing for silence. And everything would be wonderful if not for this little weird doll that looks like you and a small door in the living room, leading to... nowhere? And what about those two guys who lived here sixty years ago?
ËđŠč ĘË pairing: Satosugu x F!Reader
ËđŠč ĘË content/warnigs for this chapter: ê° Coraline AU :: reader is a horror writer :: dark and eerie atmosphere :: victorian house :: a weird doll :: appearence of Satoru and Suguru :: they have button eyes :: Satoru is just a housewife :: the eerie well :: small town mystery :: Sukuna is a dickhead :: 7k words ê±
ËđŠč ĘË notes: Apologies for such a delay! I was busy with life :( I suggest reading the series in the evening!
masterlist ËđŠč ĘË
ââââ chapter two đ
Soft wind bounced off the window and woke you early in the morning. The non-stopping rain painted the old glass in harsh strokes, crystal droplets running down the pink, slippery eaves.
Usually, you would allow gentle smooches of sunshine to wake you from your dreamy slumber. Yet that morning, a light pit-pat-pit-pat tickled your eardrums before the sun had even fully risen. You looked over your shoulder, seeing a thin fog curling in front of your windows, clinging softly to their crying surface.
It might have been the worst summer of your life, with little to no warmth seeping through the light bedsheets you brought with you. The winter one was yet to be bought, and so you wondered whether it was time to make a short trip to the town.
The old car, with scraped midnight paint and a hump that made it look like a beetle, would be brought under your house by tomorrow. And so it meant spending another night squirming under the thin summer sheet, trying to warm yourself with the woollen pyjamas you had fortunately bought.
You looked at the phone â 8:00 am â and groaned, trying to slip back into the dreamy slumber. But whenever you tried, Sukuna's hips slamming into his whore and the latest email from your editor â please tell me you're working on some story â were plaguing your mind like a nightmare.
So you groaned, wiping your face with a hand, before trying to grab the phone from the bedside table. With a sleepiness still sticking to your lashes, it dropped from your fingers, landing under the bed.
"Fuck," you murmured, slipping only the upper half of your body off the mattress to grab it back. But when your eyes fell on the mysterious treasures hiding beneath the bed, a sudden "Oh!" escaped in surprise.
Something sat shyly on the floor.
Hidden in the darkness, a yellow jacket mingled under the foggy flame creeping into your bedroom. You quickly grabbed it and sat back on the bed.
A doll.
Rather soft, filled with a wool of some sort, neatly hidden beneath its tightly sewn skin. Her button eyes, the same colour as yours, looked at you curiously, cheeks painted a peppery red. You brushed her hair, made of soft wool and looked down at the outfit. The same one you wore yesterday, with a yellow raincoat brushing her knees and high boots loose around the calves. A jumper peeked from beneath the jacket, of the same colour as the one currently lying on the chair.
"Why do you look like me, hm?" a soft ask bounced off the doll's eyes, and you tapped on them with your finger. "Where's your owner, sweetie?"
But the doll, of course, didn't say anything. Instead, looked at you with its round irises and pouted lips, as you sighed. The first day in an old Victorian house, and you were already going crazy. Shoko would surely be proud of you.
With no other option, you hugged the doll closer to your chest and, with a light blanket draped over your shoulder, you went downstairs.
The house was eerily quiet, with the squeak of old stairs echoing off the walls hung with portraits and your breathing mingling with the light patter on the centuries-old windows. The woody fragrance still lingered in the living room as you walked past. Your eyes stayed a moment longer on the slightly ajar little doors, as if checking whether the red brick had suddenly disappeared, revealing to you the entrance to the Alice in Wonderland-like realm.
Unfortunately, it was still there.
The kitchen was bathed in darkness when you set the doll on the counter and switched on the lights. Something flickered, something hissed, before the bulb dimmed like a blown-out candle.
"Are you joking?" You groaned, trying to turn the light on again and again.
Hitting the switch madly until the bulb finally came back to life and bathed your kitchen in a faint glow. Well, it's not like you needed full light to eat breakfast.
The fog knocking on your window provided enough glow to let you distinguish the spoons from the forks in the shadowed drawer.
You opened the fridge next, sighing when you saw the meagre groceries you managed to buy yesterday while passing through the town. A few eggs, butter and milk, as you were sure they would last until your car finally arrived.
"What do you think, mini-me?" You asked, peeking your head from behind the fridge doors. "Bread with eggs or eggs with bread?"
For a minute, a few seconds, you wondered whether you had left her in that position. With her head turned your way, gently tilted. Button eyes gazed lovingly, hair brushing her cheeks in an utterly adorable manner. She looked almost curious about your questions, seemingly listening to your soft complaints all this time.
"Bread with eggs it is then," you giggle, closing the door with a thud.
The buttery fragrance swirled over the pan as you cracked two eggs. At the same time, your phone buzzed, lighting the kitchen with a few messages popping one after another.
You peeked at the screen before a deep scowl twisted your forehead.
Dickhead: Where are you? Your mother said you moved the cities.
Dickhead: Can we please talk? I know I was a total asshole, but you can't just cut yourself off after so many years.
Dickhead: Don't block my number or I'll just get the new one.
"Fuck off," you mumbled, peeking towards the doll. Her small head was still facing the fridge, so you turned her towards you. "Mini-me, how about going on a trip today? I've read there's a haunted well somewhere around," her button eyes shimmered under the flickering light bulb, almost as if she wanted to agree.
With a cup of instant coffee and a warm scrambled egg, you sat on the rocking chair waiting on the porch. Rain pattered, plip-plop-plip-plop on the pinky-washed roof, dripping down the bare ground. An earthy, cold smell tried to slip under your thick pyjamas, so you wrapped the blanket more tightly around your shoulders and sat back in the chair.
The fog was slowly falling, unfolding the sad, dark view of the withered garden and big puddles forming beneath the stairs.
You placed the doll on the table, as if she were the only human-like creature you could speak to. But in fact, if someone peeked through your windows, they would see a possessed, lonely woman who spent her days talking to the weird doll and strolling through the forests to find her next concept for a horror story.
The mug warmed your skin, and the coffee burned your throat in an utterly pleasurable way until a soft sigh slipped past your lips. You wondered whether to ask the neighbour about the doll, but Miss Pink and Miss Forcible would surely show other signs of dementia upon seeing a toy that looked just like you.
As for the peculiar neighbour upstairs⊠he was better off alone.
The rain slowed as the sun peeked out from between the dark clouds. It kissed the drenched windows for a moment before disappearing again, swallowed by the storm swirling over the mystic woods.
After breakfast, you made yourself look half-presentable, changing out of pyjamas into a yellow raincoat and long boots before going outside. The jumper brushed your skin softly, keeping the pinching air from slipping beneath it.
You've never experienced a summer like this one, but the fog tickled your cheeks pleasantly, and a fresh, woody smell swirled in the air, filling your lungs with an earthy taste. Your yellow-booted feet stepped off the porch, immediately sinking into the mud. With a doll in your hand, you started walking towards the woods spreading behind the house.
A hill of sorts loomed over the pinkish eaves, and so you walked up its crooked path, kicking the little stones creeping under your feet. A low melody bounced off the drenched trees, birthing fruits and flowers and simply leaves, with little droplets tap-tap-tapping onto your coat-covered head.
A crow looked high from the branch, coal eyes following your figure jumping over the pools, with hands gripping the lone stick and marking long, writhen paths. Its lone caw-caw-caw tickled your ears, and you smiled under your nose, hugging the mini-you closer to your chest.
The hill ended after fifteen minutes or so, and thus you stood on its top, glancing at the pinkish house hugged by a soft fog. It was slowly, gently falling down, dancing just above the first steps of the porch, as if scared to slip any further.
The well you've read about on some scaryplaces.net and spookyoregon.com should be somewhere here.
On the hill, beneath the old Victorian house, a well was hidden. Where the town's folk and daredevils would slip in silence, disappearing into the hells of the earth itself. It was supposed to be as old as the house, deep in metres unknown.
You looked around the ground, kicking the pebbles and brushing the mud with your dirty, yellow shoes. Mini-you was looking down too, watching the earth with her shimmering, button eyes.
"Where is this cursed well, hm?" You started jumping, and jumping, hearing nothing but the splashing mud. "The site said it should be somewhere heâ"
"Jump once again and you will fall right into it."
A strange voice sliced through the air. You didn't understand why, but a shiver ran down your spine as your head shot up. It was rare you felt any dread at all, tempered by all the ghostly and gory stories that slipped from beneath your wicked fingers.
You weren't scared of ghosts, murderers, or spectral creatures of sorts, always more than happy to visit each and every haunted house nearby.
And yet, the sight of a man standing right in front of your eyes tickled your skin in such an unpleasant manner.
"Oh," slipped past your lips as you looked down. The mud indeed covered the large, wooden lid, and you quickly moved to the left. "I haven't noticed it."
The man came closer, with hands tucked into his old trousers and a brown hat resting on sun-kissed hair. His chest was clothed in a woollen jumper, with a white shirt peeking from the cut collar. Straight trousers ended just above his ankles, revealing long white socks and black, elegant shoes, clean of any mud. Sandy hair was slicked slightly back, and chestnut eyes looked down at you with amusement.
He looked as if he'd been plucked straight from the 60s.
"You didn't see a fairy ring here?" His finger pointed at a few mushrooms growing into a circle.
"It seems so, I was distracted," you mumbled shyly, trying to keep the distance between you and the stranger. "Do you know anything about this well?"
He hummed, clasping hands behind his back. "A bit, miss. It is a very wicked creature indeed."
He paced around, brushing the white mushrooms with his shoe, yet not intruding on their peaceful existence. The wooden cover was old, with planks crumbling under the weight of mud itself, and another shiver tickled your spine at the sheer thought of falling into the endless pit.
"A creature?" You asked, one hand poking the planks with a stick, the other gripping the dolly closer. "It's just an old well."
But the man's eyes got lost somewhere on your chest. Or more, somewhere in the deep, button eyes of your new friend, looking up at him with a pouted smile.
His head tilted, and chestnut moved up, to cross with your scaredy stare. "Where did you find her?"
Your fingers curled around the doll a bit tighter. "A present."
"Present?" Something in his voice told you that he knew about your little lie.
Yet you nodded, lying through your teeth. "From the neighbours."
His eyebrows lifted and creamy forehead creased, bending the skin into a single, crooked fold. The gentle rain tapped on hat, shielding his squinted eyes.
"Which neighbours, if I may ask, miss?"
A feeling of doubt bubbled in your chest. Your heart jumped when he took a step closer and bent over the wooden cover. With two hands, he moved it to the side, showing you an endless pit of unfathomable darkness. A musty smell hit your nose, a mixture of long-forgotten secrets and deep waters bubbling somewhere below.
"I don't know where you found it," he sighed, shaking the mud from his hands. "But I would suggest throwing it here."
You froze. Breath hitched, heart suddenly stopped, as you looked at the man whose warm eyes beamed with truth and kindness. But a desperation of sorts, a worry maybe, as he peeked with a furrow at the dolly sitting in your embrace.
"It's just a doll," you laughed, yet his lips stayed flat. "Why would I need to throw her away?"
A minute had passed or so before he sighed and looked towards your pinkish house. "That place is of the most wicked kind. You should stay away from it."
Your ears perked again, in a similar way as yesterday. The little door was a source of utter disappointment, but if the house veiled other secrets unknown, then you were ready to plunge into them all.
"I've just moved there. The main apartment with the porch," you said, pointing somewhere down the hill. "I think this place is rather nice."
"It's cursed," he said harshly, a low tsk slipping past his lips. "You shouldn't be there. No one has been living here since the previous owners disappeared."
And then you remembered about the picture, still warming the back pocket of your jeans. Thank god you wore the same trousers as yesterday!
You put the dolly under your armpit and grabbed the old, crumpled picture.
"Excuse me, sir, do you mean them?" You took a step towards the man and showed him a photo of two young men. "The neighbour ladies told me of them. But maybe, if there's a chance you know something elseâŠ"
It was clear he knew them. Quite well at that, as his face suddenly went limp, chestnut eyes bulging like little porcelain plates. Long fingers grabbed the photo, thumb brushing it gently, as if afraid of crumpling it even more.
And then suddenly, his gaze shot towards the well.
A fathomless hole of most peculiar kind, dripping shivers down your fear-kissed spine. You stood outside the fairy ring, two steps away, yet a sinister spell seemed to pull you closer. No creature tugged at your yellow jacket, yet you needed to take another step back, as if afraid the ground between you and the well would crumble.
The man's breath shuddered, and his eyes filled with fear, as if looking at the well brought back memories he long wished to forget. They plagued his mind and ripped his soul, leaving you no choice but to finally ask, "Did they drown here?"
He suddenly looked your way in surprise, as if your very existence had already slipped his mind. "It's impossible to drown in it."
Another wave of dreadful tickling pinched your skin. "But it's a well. It must end somewhere."
The man shook his head, eyes jumping between the picture and the pit.
"Not this one," he whispered before giving you the photo back. "Stay away from it. And stay away from the house. It's not a good place."
You looked over your shoulder, oogling the rosy tiles mingling in the sheepishly peeking rays of sunlight. The dark clouds swirling over the house slowly began to clear, allowing a few golden rays to bounce off the glass-tiled windows.
There was something eerie about this house indeed, but, after all, that was one of the reasons you bought it. And if it truly hid something wicked behind its walls â you wished to be the first to know of it.
"What happened to the previous owners?" You asked, looking over your shoulder.
But the man⊠was gone.
And so a gasp slipped past your lips. Muffled and shuddered, as you felt the prickling cold finally slip under the warm jumper. Biting your skin till a chill seeped into your bones, forcing another puff from your throat.
You wondered whether your mind was playing tricks on you.
If the man was simply something you had imagined. A spectral creature, maybe, as it would fit the clothes he wore. The flat scent of his body and skin white as snow, looking cold rather than living.
No⊠he was here.
As the soles of his shoes were still pressed into the squelchy mud and a photograph, ripped in half, lay on the wet ground.
And so another gasp bubbled in your throat as you bent and grabbed two pieces of paper. Teared right in the middle, splitting the two handsome faces.
Oh, what a pity it truly was, and you sighed, pushing the photograph back into your jeans.
As you stood there â alone, with a chill kissing your spine, your eyes dropped towards the well.
Opened, bare, tugging on your curious mind and whispering wickedly. You bit the inside of your cheeks, looking down at your muddy shoes brushing the fairy ring. Small mushrooms stood tall, like a fortress trying to keep you away from the danger.
If the man fell into the well, you would hear it.
Maybe.
Unless the pit had no water indeed, being a sinister portal of sorts, swallowing the lost fools into its unfathomable realm.
"What do you think, mini-me? Should we look inside?"
The dolly looked at you with her round eyes, and with a finger, you helped her shake her little head.
"Yeah, I also think so," you muttered, and kicked the wooden cover towards the well, just to close it safely.
To keep the world here away from it, but more importantly â to lock whatever resided at its bottom.
Before you went down from the hill, the sky had closed over the house once again. The bits and snippets of warmish rays of sunshine were long gone, drawing another wave of pattering rain from the sky.
The crystal beads dripped from your yellow hood, wetting the dolly's raincoat too.
As you neared the house, you noticed the neighbour from upstairs grabbing a few packages lying under your door. Not only a lunatic, but also a thief!
"Hey!" You shouted, pointing at him with your stick. "Old man, why are you stealing my stuff?"
He looked over his shoulder, dressed in a tattered bathrobe and a white, dirty shirt peeking from beneath it. The same maniacal look painted his face as he squinted his eyes as if it was the first time he saw you.
"That's not your package, miss," He muttered, straightening up. "Here, smell it."
He stretched his hand; a white, neatly packed roundish thing was right under your nose as you took a deep breath.
"Yuck!" you pushed it away, clipping your nostril with fingers. "What is that?"
"A radish, little miss. Good for your health." He pushed one of the small packages into your hands. "Here, take it. You look sick-like, this weather does not do you good."
Your eyes fixed on the smelly package, and you wondered whether its smell would fill every corner of your house. Maybe you could drop it by his house in the evening and politely return.
The neighbour yawned, scratching himself on the chest. He smelt of pungent cheese, so you stepped back, trying to keep yourself away from the funky odour. Was it for his imagined mice?
"Right," he suddenly leaned closer. Long moustache reminding you of kitten whiskers, old robe sniffing of something musty. "The mice say you are a foolish little lady."
Your eyes twinkled like two lanterns, and your head tilted. The dolly in your embrace felt a bit heavier, so you pressed it closer to your chest. "Why is that?"
He looked over his shoulder, visibly uneasy, standing on your porch. His eyes traced the large windows still hugged by fog before he moved even closer. You held your breath, the odour of radish and cheese wrapping around your wet face.
"They say you shouldn't open the little door."
You scoffed. Not this lunatic talk again!
"But there's nothing on the other side. Just a brick wall separating my apartment from the neighbours."
No one lived on the other side, so you thought it was still for sale. But you didn't dare knock on the empty door to see if anyone was there. Was the scratching you heard that night only in your dreams, or was it something coming straight from the house?
The man sighed as he had yesterday and simply stretched. "The mice say, eat radish to not attract demons. Sometimes they are a bit crazy, but they're never wrong," he repeated. "Eat the radish, little lady, and close the door."
Before you could say anything back, he ruffled your hair with his big palm and went towards the stairs.
"I think they meant garlic," you shot behind him, watching the tall men climb up the steps.
"What did you say?"
You sighed deeply. "The demons are scared of garlic."
He looked at you for a second, twirling a thin moustache between his fingers. "Right, little lady. So the mice are wrong."
He took another step, and another, murmuring under his nose the mice are wrong, they were wrong, before you could only hear the thump of his closed door.
Your eyes peeked at the dolly. "Oh, mini-me, we're surrounded by the crazy people."
A growl came from your belly as you entered the house. But your fridge was beaming with emptiness, and a single packet of instant noodles was hidden somewhere in your luggage. You cooked it with a single egg that was still waiting for its turn on the cold fridge shelf, and sat at the little table in the kitchen.
Laptop right in front of you, with the word opened on the new blank page.
The cursor was blinking, click-click-click, as you started writing whatever slipped into your mind. But it was nothing, truly, only some eerie thoughts swirling over your head like a big, stormy cloud, tapping your fingers onto the keys to put a few coherent, but more likely incoherent, words.
Something about the little town mystery. A haunted house, a weird little dolly, with the round buttons constantly fixed on your face. About the unusually cold summer this year and the need to wear scratchy Christmas sweaters and yellow wellingtons that were a bit too big and squelched in the mud.
You didn't know who the main character would be yet. But the atmosphere of the house and the dolly's tilting head made you think of a little girl who would surely love it much more than you did. And the way she would have a hard time connecting with the weird neighbours â adults, who always seemed quite difficult to understand when you were a child yourself.
It was late evening when you finished scribbling the first two pages. Messy and silly, but a sort of pride swelled your heart and a gentle patter of the rain made you believe that this story could work. Something much different from the things you usually wrote. Without the gore and erotica, but rather reminding you of the Lovecraftian stories and macabre poetry by Edgar Allan Poe.
And so you saved a few silly pages as a PDF and sent your editor an email titled:Â a horror for children â what do we think?
"Well, mini-me, how about we take a baâ"
But the mini-you was nowhere to be found. She suddenly disappeared from the kitchen counter where you had sat her, between the shelf of spices and the slightly stale bread. There was nothing left but a small pool of rain where her yellow coat had been.
You furrowed, looking around the kitchen. Whenever you had a new idea, you would immerse yourself fully in the new world you were trying to build. And so you would forget to eat and drink, sometimes even to live â the world spun around, and you sat by your desk, focused on the blinking cursor. Sometimes you would unconsciously stand up and do something, only to forget about it a minute later.
And so you thought the same thing happened to the mini-you. You moved here somewhere without giving it much thought, only to forget where the poor dolly was waiting for you.
The darkness slipped into the house, casting shadows over the crimson carpets as you walked in fuzzy socks. The old chandelier gleamed weakly with yellow light, looming over you as you walked through the long corridors.
"Mini-me, where are you?" You hummed, opening the bathroom.
Tile walls silently shone, and the rain still tapped on the little window over the bathtub.
You checked the bedroom, the upstairs bathroom, and the kitchen once again before finally slipping into the living room. And when you thought she wasn't there either, the gentle flickering of the fireplace bounced off the button-shaped eyes.
Lying on the floor, slipping into the slightly opened little door.
"What are you doing here?" You giggled, but an unsettling feeling clenched your heart.
The dolly lay half-hidden behind the doors, button eyes the colour of your irises pulling you closer with unimaginable force. You leaned closer, then bent and grabbed it from the floor.
"There's nothing in there, stop sniffinâ"
But then, suddenly, something caught your eye.
A light of some sort â warm and bubbly, slipping through the crack of the small door.
You blinked, once, twice, glancing between the dolly and the door.
With your foot, you pushed it open and gasped.
The brick wall was there no more; instead, glowing bluish circles stretched deep into the house, with cocoon-like walls forming a long, mystifying passageway. Your knees hit the carpet as you peeked inside and touched the soft structure of the tunnel. A deep, delicious smell filled the inside, a roast of some sort that made your stomach turn and squeeze in crying hunger.
Just in case, your fingers pinched your forearm, but aside from the soft "Auch" that slipped quietly past your lips, nothing in the room changed. The fireplace crackled with a soft pop-pop-pop, and rain pattered onto the large windows. Mini-you sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with a pouted smile. Button eyes watched your breath drop in a shudder, as you bit the inside of your cheek.
The mice say you are a foolish little lady, suddenly slipped into your mind. They say you shouldn't open the little door.
Did it also mean you shouldn't walk into whatever was on the other side?
Certainly, and yet you made the initial move by crawling into the tunnel. The rings glinted softly beneath your fingertips, blending and shimmering with gentle hues â from purple and pink to blue and black. Each time your hand or knee made contact, the material exploded with colour, as though each step left a magical, purple imprint.
When you got to the middle, a low, sweet hum slipped past the slightly opened door waiting on the other side. The luscious smell was getting stronger, watering your mouth after a whole day of eating nothing but stale bread and instant soups.
Finally, with a gentle push, the door opened.
Letting you right into⊠your living room?
"Oh," you mumbled, crawling from the tunnel.
The room looked quite the same, with the deep red sofa sitting calmly in front of the crackling fireplace. The darkness cast shadows over the Persian-style carpets, but you noticed the lack of tapering rain.
The house, instead, was filled with warmth, this mouthwatering smell, and someone's hum. Melody that curled around your earlobes with smooching kisses, as you slowly, with a fast beating heart, walked towards the kitchen.
Your nose following the smell, eyes looking around the house, which seemed the same and yet so different. A bit warmer, cleaner, decorated here and there with flowers and crocheted blankets that hugged the sofa and flower pots. Everything was much more colourful, and so you felt a sudden shiver drip down your spine.
Because it was certainly not your house.
And a man sweeping around the kitchen was certainly not your guest.
He stood tall, a pink apron curling around his lean waist, his wide shoulders clad in a light jumper. From behind, you could only notice milky hair, falling short over his creamy neck.
You stood in the doorway, fiddling with the hem of your jumper. A second passed, then a minute, before the man looked over his shoulder with a beaming smile.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're already here? The roast is almost ready," He giggled, cleaning his hands with a small towel.
The breath caught in your throat. Eyes bulged, and lips fell open, as you saw the same man who plagued your dreams and raised questions beneath your tightened chest. The same man who was in the photograph, with a half-covered face and cheerful eyes mingling like little stars.
But this time, they didn't shine as bright.
Because instead of irises, light blue buttons neatly settled in his sockets. Reminding you of a sea, carrying a sense of freshness, wrapping around your warmed face like a gentle breeze.
"Who are you?" you mumbled, almost shy, and ogled his handsome, angelic face, brimming with a smile.
His head tilted, with a few strands of milky hair brushing the soft forehead. "I'm your neighbour, sweetheart."
"No, that's my house."
A low hum slipped past his lips. "Well, if we want to fight over the ownership, that is, in fact, my house. At least in this world, hm?" He peeked inside the oven, letting the delicious, roasty smell fill the warm kitchen. "Sweetheart, can you please call Suguru? He's up to his elbows in the garden."
"But the garden is witheredâŠ" You mumbled, still not daring to come inside the kitchen.
As if afraid that passing the doorway would force you to accept the delirious yet bewitching reality you somehow entered.
Was it a dream? Did you fall asleep while writing again?
Or was the man, with button eyes and a low melody filling the lusciously smelling kitchen, truly real?
Before you'd noticed it, he came closer. And closer, closer, before his long fingers flicked your forehead. A soft "auch" slipped past your lips, and when they opened, he quickly pressed his finger onto your tongue.
At first, you wanted to bite it.
But then heavenly sweetness spilt all over your taste buds and eyes twinkled.
"Not too sweet?" He asked, and the fact that he slipped the same fingers into his lips didn't go unnoticed by your flushed cheeks.
"It's delicious."
He hummed, nodding his head. "Go and tell him the dinner's ready. I know you're starving, so the sooner you go, the better."
You didn't ask him how he knew that. Instead, pressed your palm to the reddened forehead and went outside, towards the garden.
And when your feet stepped from the porch, a loud, surprised gasp once again escaped your throat. The night never looked as beautiful as then, with the dark sky peppered with mingling stars and a large moon, bending and curving as if touched by a wicked spell. It shone almost unnaturally, with a yellow, tale-like light, casting long shadows over the big, lush garden.
The warm illumination hit your cheeks, giggly, as you passed the rusty entrance to the garden and ogled the magical view unfolding right before your eyes. With lanterns hanging heavily off the fruit trees and clean cobblestones leading you further towards the bridge passing over the shallow creek. The flowers were there and birdies and bugs, with bees landing softly on the sweet petals, zzz-bzz-bzz, and drinking the nectar dripping down the watered ground.
There was something utterly enchanting about this place, rather mystical, as the flowery scent smooched your warmed skin, tugging unconsciously on your lips. A giggle slipped past when a little butterfly sat on your stretched finger, its purplish wings flapping with the gentle wind.
And when you crossed the bridge, you saw a man kneeling over the freshly dug earth. His long, raven hair was pinned up in a bun, a few locks falling over his sweating forehead. He hummed a melody of sorts, soft and kind, drawing the little birdies' attention as they sat by him and listened with lidded eyes.
"UmâŠ" you started, swinging on your feet. "The man inside said the dinner's ready."
He glanced over his shoulder and, as you too expected, looked at you with little button-shaped irises. But his were misty purple, deep and mingling, catching the warm flicker of the lanterns.
"Oh, darling, you're early. I still haven't finished planting your flowers," he chuckled and stood up.
You stepped back, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his height. He seemed as tall as the man back in the house, and yet there was something utterly intimidating about the way he looked at you from above. In a slightly less striking and cheerful way, but with a soft smile tugging on his lips and button eyes staring blankly into your face.
"I didn't know someone else lived in this house," fell awkwardly, as you looked behind him at the few planted flowers. They indeed looked like your most lovely ones. "The little door was bricked."
Suguru chuckled, wiping his hands on the muddy trousers. "I told Satoru to open it a bit later, but he was set on preparing your favourite roast." He left the gardening gloves on the ground before showing you the way to the exit. "And the cake too. I hope you're hungry. He's been cooking all day."
Walking arm in arm, you peeked at Suguru's wickedly beautiful face. His straight, raven eyebrows sat neatly over the purple buttons and sharp jaw, smooth yet slightly dirtied with the mud. Raven locks seemed soft, almost silky, and you needed to curl your hand into a fist so as not to brush a few strands behind his ear.
You didn't need to answer as the sudden growl in your belly was enough to push a soft chuckle past Suguru's lips.
When you walked back into the kitchen, everything was already set.
The table was filled with foaming meats and fruits, a bottle of red wine with three glasses stood in the middle, and Satoru was quickly pushing the strawberry-cream cake to the fridge.
"Please sit down, sweethearts," he said, pulling your chair.
You nodded, sitting down on the soft, cushioned seat. Much more comfortable than the ones you had in your house.
"The weather's pretty fine today, isn't it?" Satoru hummed while putting a piece of warm, honeyed-glazed meat on your plate. With mashed potatoes, vegetables, coating everything in gravy.
The portion was large, but your hunger was even greater, so your fingers gripped the chair's edge in excitement.
"It rained a little, but I almost finished everything," Suguru answered, placing a glass of red wine in front of your plate. "Darling, how was your day?"
Two pairs of button eyes turned to you with a mingled look, and suddenly you felt small. Overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness filling this house, and by the way they turned such simple things, like dinner, into something lovely. It was the same house you lived in, yet it carried a homey cosiness that let your shoulders to roll back and lips lift into a shy smile.
"It was fine. I finally started writing my new book."
Satoru gasped, taking a sip of wine. "What is it about?"
Suguru hummed, also wishing to know more.
The cutlery clicked as you pushed it down and you cleaned your palate with a sip of wine. It dripped down your throat, coating it in a sweet glaze.
"Well, I just finished the first draft. Nothing special, just a children's book," a lie fell from your lips almost naturally.
They didn't have to know that you took inspiration from their eerie house and decided to present it as an unfathomable, wicked spirit. And that whatever, whoever, they were, would surely slip into the furthest pages of your book.
"Talking about children," Suguru chuckled. "Did you like your present?"
Your head tilted, eyes jumped between one and another. "What present?"
The soft crackling of the fireplace coming from the living room tickled your ears.
"The doll, of course," Satoru said, propping his chin on his hand. "Suguru made it especially for you."
The charm of his voice made your head spin, and a surprised gasp escaped your throat. "Ah, she's lovely! Thank you so much, umâŠ" You bit the inside of your cheek. Feeling their blank, soulless button stares felt rather uneasy. "You didn't have to. The dinner too."
Satoru waved his hand. "Oh please, why won't you just join us for dinner every day?"
You took it as a joke, and thus a lovely laugh fell past your lips. But it, in fact, was no fool at all, and so both of their handsome faces looked up from their plates, staring at you with an empty look.
"Satoru is right, darling. We would love to have dinner with you."
And the truth was, you didn't have anything against it. Rather, you felt a mysterious pull towards the two men living in the otherworldly part of your house. The curiosity that killed the cat the moment you slipped through the small door.
You knew, felt, that there was something utterly wicked about it all. Their faces, without a wrinkle, as if they were still in their youth. No more than late twenties, surely, with cheeks smooth and a jaws sharp, as they chatted with you throughout the whole dinner.
A while passed before you untangled yourself from their soft requests to stay. To see the garden, look around the house, get another slice of cake. Satoru joked a lot, while Suguru stayed mostly quiet, simply adding a few questions here and there.
They were kind, almost gentlemanly, and a joyous laugh bubbled in your throat whenever Satoru rolled out another joke, and Suguru shook his head with a sigh. It took a while to get used to their eyes, but after a few glasses of wine, you stopped avoiding their gaze.
And looked instead. Observed the movement of their brows, the bloom coating the smiling cheeks, long lashes casting shadows over the buttoned eyes. At first, you thought it looked similar to contact lenses. But after peering closer, you noticed that those were just their eyeballs â dark like midnight, with big buttons covering them completely. Almost as if they had dug up the previous ones, andâ
"You can also stay the night?" He suggested, giving you a slice of cake after dinner.
His finger wiped off the cream from the knife and extended towards your lips. With a quick, uncertain glance at his bluish buttons, you licked it clean, immediately feeling another wave of pleasant sweetness drip down your spine.
"I don't want to sornâŠ"
"Sweetheart, you're more than welcome to spend your days here."
You wriggled on a soft chair, digging uncomfortably into a cake. "Truly, I cannot. I have work too, and need to visit the townâŠ"
"Butâ"
This time, a low, shuddering voice echoed off the wooden kitchen floor. "Satoru."
It sounded tenderly, yet laced with admonishment too. As if Suguru tried to suggest gently, not to push you any further.
Satoru's lips fell into line before he glanced at the man with the blank expression.
The stillness stretched like a wicked thread as you bit silently into the strawberry cake.
"Right, apologies, sweetheart," he said after a minute, cracking a soft smile. "I forgot that we have all the time in the world."
Instead of saying anything, you simply nodded and hummed sweetly.
They seemed so different, like sun and moon, yet made of the same matter. Their lives were linked in some obscure way, with the past completely unknown and any questions you had about their lives left to blur into the air like fog.
You knew that the moment your feet would land back on your side of the house, they would lead you straight to the laptop.
The search engine opened as you tapped any possible keywords that would show anything about the mysterious men living on the other side of your house.
In a completely different world, where your garden blushed like blooming roses and the moon lurked over your cheeks warmed by the sweetness of red wine.
This evening felt comforting, almost intoxicating, with your belly stuffed full and gentle dizziness already lulling you to slumber.
But you couldn't find anything online. Nothing related to the old secret of the pinkish Victorian house. Nothing about the two young owners, who supposedly disappeared into thin air.
As if nothing ever happened here, in what you simply couldn't believe.
You sighed, scratching your itching palm. A rash of sorts was slowly spreading around it, and a tsk fell past your lips, as you remembered that you didn't have any ointment. That's what you get for grabbing the dirty, muddy sticks.
Rain still pattered on the windows, as if this world and the one behind the doors were of two completly different universes.
The tingling on your spine felt like a bad omen, but the last drops of sweet cream spreading all over your tongue reminded you of the well-spent evening.
The dolly sat by the closed doors, looking at you with the same pouted smile. But also mischievous of sorts, as if unsatisfied that right after coming back here, you immediately locked the door shut.
With the key sitting deep in your jeans pocket and your mind pulsing with the overwhelming experience.
One thing, however, was clear.
You would go back to that house again.
And uncover whatever wicked secret both men tried to hide for the past hundred years.
mdni. themes; age gap, toji x female reader, slow sex, sleepy sex, spooning, cockwarming, creampie.
some nights you got so restless that it was unbearable. you lay there for hours on end, squeezing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to drift off to sleep â seemingly having no luck.
even wrapped in your older boyfriendâs arms, it was impossible some nights. tonight being one of them.
tojiâs firm chest was pressed against your back, one strong arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close. heâd fallen asleep over an hour ago, leaving you wide awake and bored out of your mind.
unfortunately for toji, he was a light sleeper most of the time, constantly alert or on guard. so of course, he feels you squirm against him, sighing loudly as you somewhat give up on trying to sleep.
toji furrows his brows, opening one eye, easily woken up by your movements. âquit movinâ," he grumbles, pulling his arm around you tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
âmm, canât sleep," you respond, exhaling loudly again. toji drifts back to sleep easily, leaving you restless and bored once more.
you adjust your position, pushing your ass against him further. it was innocent enough at first, until you instinctively started grinding back against him, feeling his dick harden more and more with each movement.
tojiâs eyes open again, a low groan escaping him as you continue to move your hips. âneedy girl, need me tâ fuck you back to sleep? that what you want?"
his voice was deep and gravelly, slightly raspy from having just woken up â the sound only makes your cunt throb impatiently, desperate to be filled by tojiâs thick cock.
"mngh, pleaseâ" you whine, feeling him begin to kiss the side of your neck lazily, hands making their way up your his oversized shirt. "yeah, i know, baby," he mumbles against your neck, squeezing your tits using two hands before trailing them lower, reaching your pussy.
you were already completely soaked.
something about the way his warm body pressed against you, hands exploring your body whilst he was half asleep, had you needier than ever.
he circles your clit lazily with two fingers, then plunges them into your cunt, curling them upwards so skilfully â so deliciously.
âfuck, donât even need tâ warm you up. pretty cuntsâ already drippinâ for me, huh?"
you nod feverishly, tilting your head back against his shoulder, giving him access to your throat as he withdraws his fingers, making you mewl from the loss of sensation.
"need it, please â now," you beg quietly, hearing him shimmy his sweatpants down, thick, throbbing cock slapping against your ass.
"shhh, sâokay. gonna give it to you," toji coos, lining his leaky tip up with your entrance.
without wasting a second, he pushes in, groaning sleepily into your ear as he bottoms out inside of you. you gasp quietly, beginning to rock against him, fucking yourself on his dick.
he places one hand on your hip, the other making its way around to rub slow circles over your clit.
âstay still, doll. just relax fâme, let me do the work," he rasps, rolling his hips against you, effortlessly hitting all the right spots.
you moan breathily, shutting your eyes as he fucks you to sleep. âmph, tojiâ feels sâgood," you moan, opening your legs slightly wider, granting him more access.
âthatâs my good girl, squeezinâ me so tight," he purrs.
you rarely saw this side of him when it came to intimacy. slow, gentle â deep strokes that had your eyes rolling back.
it was heaven on earth.
his thrusts remained unhurried, though his fingers quickened their pace, circling your swollen bud. "mâsoâ aghnnâ close," you moan, becoming more fatigued with each dizzying roll of his hips.
âcum fâme, baby. thereee we go."
with a few more deep thrusts, the tension within you snaps, you clench around his cock, whimpering his name and clenching the sheets below you.
âgonna fill you up, keep youâ hahâ nice nâ full all night," he groans, spilling his load into your warm cunt seconds after.
based on how quiet and boneless you were, he assumed youâd fallen asleep. he doesnât pull out, leaving both his warm load and fat cock stuffed inside you until the morning.
he presses one last kiss to your neck, then passes out soon after, cock beginning to soften inside you.
Two years of dating, three years of marriage. You, Suguru and Satoru â a match made in heaven, most people could be jealous of. You loved each other so deeply that it almost hurt. Although... sometimes their love felt a little too tight. A little too consuming. But that's what true devotion looked like, right? Youâre still wondering, while packing the suitcases with tears running down your cheeks.
masterlist
pairing: Satosugu x Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, marriage, husband Geto Suguru x reader, husband Gojo Satoru x reader, Satosugu, yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark romance, pregnancy, kinda babytrapping, anything but healthy relationship, HEAVY smut, HEAVY breeding kink, if I put this tag it'll be a spoiler, manipulation, guilt-tripping, age gap, violence
WC: 6.7k
art by kkatsujii
ââââ Chapter Five
You met Sukuna during the second year of marriage. It was rather late, wasn't it? However, it happened quite accidentally when you entered your husbands' office without checking if any guests were present.
They never liked when you snooped around that area of the house. Where men were coming and going, each dressed in a suit, all avoiding the curious gaze of yours. As if the business they came for did not need a simple gentility that you were accustomed to from your husbands' daily demeanour.
When you pointed it out, Suguru waved his hand with a simple, "Itâs better if you donât talk to them, darling," refusing to state the reasons for their meetings.
It was enough that your house felt like a fortress, wrapped on all sides by the multiple bodyguards who stood still day and night, as if the danger was meant to launch through the door any second. But there was nothing of that sort at all, but simply mysterious men, who were coming and going in interests you were never meant to be informed of.
"Just our clients," Satoru said once, while you helped him with a tie. "Sometimes itâs easier to meet here than in the office. You know, some people prefer to do business in more private places."
"And it needs to be our home?" You muttered, patting his wide chest with a scowl. He always looked oh so handsome, dressed in a suit, with black fabric wrapping his shoulders tightly, and this minx smile tugging at lips. "Itâs not a public restaurant, you know?"
He pouted before peppering your sweet cheeks with little kisses. "Sorry, sweetheart, Iâll talk to Suguru."
And thus, on one such occasion, while both of your husbands were at their meeting and you stood in the kitchen preparing yourself a tea, he suddenly appeared.
Right behind you, leaning against the door frame, with muscular arms crossed on his chest. You werenât aware of his presence, looking outside the window at your lovely, spring garden, until he hummed lowly.Â
Your head immediately shot behind you, ears registering a voice not belonging to either of your husbands.
The man was there, tall and massive, filling the doorway with his wide shoulders, wrapped in a loose black shirt. Crimson eyes were fixed on you, slightly lidded, lined with a bit of curiosity swirling behind the dark irises. Unnatural pink hair was messily slicked back, giving his whole, rather harsh demeanour a bit of loveliness.
"Iâm sorry, are you looking for a toilet?" You asked, waiting for your tea to fully brew. "Just go down the corridor, andâ"
"So youâre the wife, huh?" The man asked, pushing large palms into the pockets of the elegant, black trousers. "I was wondering how beautiful you must be for both of them to never shut up about you."
A gentle warmth smooched the back of your neck, as you knew how exaggerated your husbands liked to be. Whether it was with the bodyguards, maids, cashiers in the nearby market or simply you, while they fucked you each night with the sweetest pleasures cooed to your wetted cheeks.Â
"Ignore them, they donât know when to shush," you chuckled.
He started moving closer, his crimson gaze sweeping the warm kitchen. "Pretty house. Have you decorated it yourself?" he asked, glancing at the wooden shelves and the big window looking right outside the garden.
"I did, Satoru and Suguru let me do whatever I want with it," you giggled.
You loved that time, honestly, when furniture and decorations arrived one by one, with both of your husbands carefully placing everything where you had ordered. You wished to preserve the old soul this place possessed, loving the homey atmosphere and nature wrapping the mansions from each corner.
"Iâm Sukuna," the man said, leaning against the counter. Eyes slipping to the cup, before turning back onto your face. "TheirâŠ" His head tilted as he scanned the genuine, rather oblivious smile that tugged on your lips. "Partner."
Your ears perked up at hearing something new about your husbandsâ job. It wasnât that they didnât talk about it at all, but it seemed both tried to keep it a secret of some sort, sparing you from getting more information than you needed. And thus, except for the fact that they were CEOs of some company, working with some men, you knew only bits and pieces of what they did.
The things that sometimes simply didnât sit right.
And so, with a low hum and a shy glance into Sukunaâs eyes, a muttered "Partner?" rolled out with a curious tone. "A business partner, you mean?"
He observed you. Long, in silence, with squinted eyes and this eerie, rather strange atmosphere rising in the air from the moment he entered the space. A sort of mystery wrapped his shoulders, and crimson gaze carried a secret he shared only with them.Â
"How much do you know about your husbands?" He asked blatantly, making your eyes bulge in surprise.Â
He leaned against the counter, looming over your body with a shadow spilling onto the floor. Head titled, crimson eyes twinkling with a mix of emotions yet to you unknown, but clearly carrying a sort of⊠worry?
You ignored the strange feeling bubbling in your heart, instead turning back to the mist swirling over the big cup.Â
"Enough to marry them, I guess," rolled rather unpleasantly.
There was something in his presence you didnât enjoy. And the mere suggestion that maybe your husbands were not who you thought they could be felt quite offensive. You didnât know how long Sukuna had known them, but there was clearly a line between the simple business relationship and the bond you shared with them.
But Sukuna only hummed, with a soft smirk tugging on his lips. And then, his eyes fell on something. Hiding behind your ear, a piece of skin that your pinned-up hair uncovered for his careful gaze.
Before you could say anything, he lifted his hand, brushing a part of your upper neck with a finger.
You quickly smacked him and pulled back, with a slight shock speeding your heart. "What are you doing?"
"Did you hurt yourself?" He ignored your question. "How did you do it?"
Your finger instinctively flew up towards the ear, trying to feel the thing he did. And after touching messily for a while, you finally found it.Â
A scar small as a piece of grain, but slightly bulging, as if hiding beneath something hard. You pressed on it, feeling a sort of prickling sensation digging into your neck.
"Did you hurt yourself recently?" Sukuna asked once again, leaving you with a shuddered breath.
"I-IâŠ" your mind was set ablaze, and no coherent answer could slip in.
Instead, you tried to scan your memory from end to end, desperately searching for a moment when you could somehow make a tiny cut on your neck. In fact, you could do it anytime â while scratching your skin, feeling Satoruâs teeth on your neck, or simply in the shower, scrubbing your body until it started to burn.
And even then, you couldnât recall any memory of such a sort.
Sukuna waited, with a gaze slowly turning into something gentle and a low sigh slipping past his lips. A minute has passed, and a sight of your quivering lower lips was too pitiful to watch without a pain tugging at his heart.
You reminded him of someone he cherished dearly years ago.
"Do they get angry when you go out?" He slipped in a much quieter voice.
The thick mist curled over the cup as you watched it slowly dissolve into the sun-kissed air.
It wasn't that they were getting angry. Just⊠something has changed after your marriage.
Something was wrong, although you could exactly pinpoint what it was.
You thought that maybe thatâs how marriage should look â with a bit too much obsession, constant checking on you, and quiet control that wasn't seen with the naked eye, yet always slipping beneath your chest whenever one of them entered a room.
At first, you would notice it somewhere in the way they never let you answer the door, always appearing before you could even reach the handle.
"You never know whoâs outside; people are unpredictable," Suguru would say, but who could possibly visit you in this isolated area, unless it was one of their "business partners" or, at times, a delivery guy?
You noticed how their moods shifted with frightening speed whenever you took a different route home. You still remembered that look, that reaction, when they came to your apartment after you forgot to pick up the phone. You thought you had misread it, but when you started going home alone, you noticed the way Satoruâs smile flattened for a split second, and Suguruâs eyes lost their glimmer. With an eerie, rather strange feeling slipping into the squinted irises.
"Youâre late," Suguru murmured on one evening, though you definitely werenât. It was still early, with the sun slowly setting behind the lush forest and cicadas
âWhy didnât you call us?â Satoru added, as if not understanding the idea of you simply taking a walk alone.
Watching you, always, with an intensity that felt too heavy for something as ordinary as you just tying your shoelaces or cooking a simple meal. your shoe laces or cooking a simple meal. Their gazes travelled over your body like a checklist, lingering in various plush parts as if looking for something only they knew of.
Sometimes, you would mistake it for the desire.
In the way they tugged on the hem of your shorts, traced kisses down your neck, only to fuck you senseless on a kitchen counter minutes later.
But in fact, all of those gestures were always marked by a possessiveness.
After a while, you started noticing that they always knew where you were. There was no tracking app on your phone, nor were the bodyguards following you, and yet they always appeared in places you didn't mention in your conversation once.
On one morning, while going to the freshly opened bakery, Satoru was already waiting outside. Leaning against the car, sunglasses pushed into his fluffy hair and eyes twinkling under the warm, summer light.
At first, you were shocked, for you never told them about this place. Didn't write it down, didn't mention it in a message, as the whole point of your little trip was to surprise them with delicious pastries. Especially Satoru, who you knew would be overjoyed with all the sweet buns you would bring back home.
So when you saw him right outside, with a creaming face beaming of a sly smile, your breath slightly hitched. Just for a second, as you hid a warm bag of sweets behind your back and walked towards him with a tilted head.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, half-laughing, but half-worried.
He pushed himself out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you sweetly on the forehead. "Picking up my wifey, of course," he grinned, eyes instantly slipping onto your hands. "What are you hiding there?"
He wrapped both his arms around you, fingers trying to grab the warm bag.
"Satoru!" you cried when he started peppering kisses all over your cheeks and nose to distract you from his finger trying to untangle yours. "That's supposed to be a surprise! Besides, how did you know I was here? I didn't tell either of you."
"You told me a few days ago," he simply said, taking you back to the car.
The first time it happened, you simply believed this slightly manipulative tone and the assurance that you're just such a forgetful sweetie. They were your husbands, after all, thus what purpose would they have in lying straight into our eyes.
And yet, the more similar accidents occurred, the more you began to wonder whether it truly was your mistake. Whether you were simply losing your mind or slowly slipping into dementia, every trip, every quick stop by the market was always marked by their presence. The constant feeling of being followed pulsed beneath your skin, playing with your mind in an utterly wicked way.
The strangest thing, however, the one scaring you the most, always accompanied the topic of children.
They were truly disappointed that you didnât get pregnant during your wedding night. And not in the next month, and the next, and next, although they fucked you raw almost every night, always finishing as deep as they could. Scooping up their cum with a finger, only to push it right back into your leaking hole.
They would casually weave the children into talk, soft comments, insinuations simply dropped into conversations.
"Youâd look so cute with a baby bump," Satoru would murmur against your neck, his voice half-asleep in the early morning, arms strongly pulling you to his body.
"I can already imagine our house with little you running around," Suguru would add, while preparing you another healthy cocktail that was meant to improve your fertility.
You wanted children, of course you did! Just not now.
Nevertheless, you always thought it was sweet. How dreamy they were, how much they wanted to build a family with you. Just normal conversations of a married couple!
But then it grew⊠obsessive.
Their eyes would soften whenever they saw you touch your stomach after eating too much. They would buy unnecessary vitamins and research baby names when they thought you werenât looking.
Suguru would hold you a little too tightly when you slept, as if trying to feel something beneath your skin. Satoru would press his palm low on your belly, asking if you were hurting, whispering something to himself, which you never managed to catch.
You could see how tormented they were. How sad, with every negative test, with your period appearing every month.
What plagued you, however, was how they blamed it on themselves. You were healthy! Thatâs what your doctor said. Suguru was taking such good care of your meals, it just couldnât be your fault.
Seeing how their disappointment grew sharper each month, you started planning to take out your IUD. They became clingier, touchier, more emotional and needy â particularly in bed. Your sex soon turned into a gentle act, utterly sweet and loving, as Suguru pushed into his mind a foolish thought that rough sex is not good for women's bodies. And although all three of you knew it was bullshit, no one said anything.
And then, a few weeks before meeting Sukuna⊠you started to suspect that they knew.
Oh, they knew about your birth control, with Satoru asking you gently about any "routine" that might be getting in the way or whether "thereâs something you want to tell them" about your health. As if giving you a chance to come clear before a storm that was swirling over your marriage would finally blow a deathly strike.
You would wake up at night only to find them watching you sleep, with unreadable eyes, searching your face for answers you didnât want to give.
You couldnât comprehend their full obsession then.
But it was there, beneath every conversation, behind every touch and glance, so heavy you felt suffocated.
And then, one day, you woke up with a pain. Your lower belly hurt, nausea filled the throat, and head felt like it weighed tons, as if you had slept for much longer than you should.
The sun was high in the sky, bathing your bedroom with spilling warmth. Both of them lay right next to you, with heavy breaths and angelically peaceful faces, you brushed with your fingers.
Suguru woke up first, lavender irises squinted upon seeing a grim twisting your face. "What's going on, darling?"
You pouted and let yourself get pulled to his warm chest. "My belly hurts. Maybe I ate something foul last night?"
A low hum hit your forehead as he started drawing slow, gentle circles on your back. "Maybe you should do the pregnancy test? You know, just in case."
There was simply no possibility you could get pregnant, and yet a simple nod of yours lifted his lips in pure happiness. You truly didn't wish to lie to them any longer, but⊠You just weren't ready to say the truth.
For you knew that the moment they found out about the UID, the rage that would fill Suguru would burn your house down. Madness, but most of all disappointment of learning all the wicked tricks you played on your husbands just to dissolve their most dearest dream.
And so, a few weeks later, you stood in the kitchen with Sukuna and his prying questioning weighing on your mind. With no answer that could truly represent the foundation of your relationship.
"I don't think you should be here," you said instead, mixing the tea with a spoon. "They're probably waiting for you to come back."
Sukuna glanced towards the corridor stretching outside the kitchen. Satoru's laughter slipped from the faraway corner of your house, before Suguru joined him with a low mumble.
"I think they're perfectly fine on their own," he said, looking back at your hunched back. Hot steam floated around the kettle's spout, a warm cloud pressing against your nervous face. "They were always fine on their own."
You knew what Sukuna meant.
It's not a place for you.
And whatever was going on behind those closed doors of their office was of no good for someone like you.
You bit down on the inside of your plush cheek, trying to stop the shuddered breath that desperately wished to slip away.
"I think you should go," you muttered, ignoring the sudden curl of his fingers. "I don't know what you want from me. I made my decision a long time ago, and if you think that now I would consider a divorceâŠ" which would be impossible to do anyway. "⊠you're in the wrong."
Sukuna hummed, crimson eyes clashing with your heavy gaze.
There was a minute of silence before he finally sighed. "You truly love them, don't you?"
You nodded. "They love me even more."
A low chuckle filled the warm kitchen, and Sukuna shook his head. "And that's the whole problem." His fingers lifted, suddenly tugging a lone lock of your hair behind your ear. A gesture rather intimate, leaving you frozen. "You remind me of my mother, you know? It's just⊠she didn't have anyone who could offer her help."
He fiddled with the pocket of his trousers before sliding a small piece of paper on the counter. You looked at it with a frown and took it between your fingers.
Ryomen Sukuna was written in neat letters, with his phone number right beneath it.
"Just in case," he said, bouncing off the counter.
"In case what?" your question followed, making him look over his shoulder.
He stopped in the doorway, wide back filling the space. "In case no one else will come to rescue."
⟠⟠âŸ
Not a week later, Suguru called you from the hallway. With nausea filling your throat and head pounding madly, you pulled yourself from the couch and went towards him.
"Oh," slipped in shock, seeing both of your husbands in full suits and a small luggage next to the front door. "Are you going somewhere?"
Satoru nodded, lifting his hand to cup your slightly warm cheek. "We're sorry, sweetheart, but the business calls," He pouted sweetly, and you chuckled, nuzzling into his palm. "We're going to Kyoto for three days. But Yuji and Megumi will stay with you, so in case you have any requests, just let them know."
"Mmm, or I can just go out alone," you hummed, letting Suguru wrap his arms around you from behind.
He placed a warm kiss on your cheek, big hand pressing to your forehead. "Or you can stay at home and relax. It seems that you still have a slight fever."
The past few weeks had been a pure nightmare. The fever spun your mind, nausea forced you to wake up early in the morning and spend hours in the bathroom puking, and your belly hurt as if whatever you had poisoned yourself with didn't wish to leave your body.
Suguru wanted you to repeat the pregnancy tests over and over again, but you always refused. And as dissatisfied as he seemed to be, he stopped pressuring you with the constant requests. It was nice to have a bit of a breather.
Nice, but also quite confusing, considering how serious they were about the whole pregnancy thing for the past few months.
"Maybe I'll visit my gynaecologist," you murmured, leaning your head against Suguru's chest.
His eyes twinkled, looking at you from above. "Why?"
"You knowâŠ" just in case the UID stopped working. "âŠmaybe we finally got lucky."
He chuckled, pressing soft lips to yours. Arms pulling you closer, till your ass brushed against his slightly bulging front. "Mhm, then let's go after our trip. We don't want to miss such an important visit."
And so they went, leaving you alone and sick, with the warm rays of sunshine coating your cheeks and silence slashing through the long corridors.
For the past few years, you've never been left alone for that long. Two whole days, without the presence of your husbands and prying eyes watching your every step.
There was something utterly terrifying about it. As if the lack of their presence was a test of sorts, to see how many rules you would manage to break before their coming back.
And thus, during the first day, you did nothing but stay in bed and take the medicine. In the evening, you wrote a few pages of the book you had just recently started, although it seemed that writing a romance was quite difficult when your own heart was haunted by anxiety.
The bubble bath helped a bit with nausea, and the mint-scented oils coated your body with a calming fragrance. Crickets sat peacefully in your garden, lurking through the windows at your body sprawled in the bathtub.
You truly wanted to enjoy the silence. Those few moments of peace before both of your husbands came home. The long-forgotten joy of spending time with yourself, something you used to pamper yourself with those years ago. When you were still no one but a silly student with a shitty job, an even shittier apartment, and your hook-up, who would later turn out to be a cheater.
Life was difficult back then, but⊠it was yours. Yours to command, yours to make stupid mistakes.
Was marrying them one of those? Slipped into your mind, but you quickly shook head.
Foolish thought, nothing else. Every marriage has its ups and downs, doesn't it?
A sigh left your lips as the water was slowly getting colder. The phone lying on the nearby stool vibrated, and you could only guess that it was the hundredth message sent by your husbands.
There was no one else who could text you. Not since you cut yourself off, locking inside this warm, yet isolated house.
So on the first night, you let yourself slip into the endless slumber alone. With unease clenching your heart and dreams recalling the time when life basked in colours long-forgotten by your dreaded mind.
Everything that happened next was simply a pure coincidence.
The second day, you decided to bake their favourite cake. With strawberries and heavy, sweet cream, you needed to use a mixer for.
But the new mixer your husbands had just bought suddenly vanished. You could almost swear it was here a few days ago â on the kitchen counter, still unpacked and waiting for its turn.
You checked every shelf, every drawer, every stupid hidden corner of the kitchen. The places that made no sense â under the sink, behind cookbooks you never used. And it was still nowhere to be seen.
So, somehow, as if your feet already knew what place your mind was thinking of, you found yourself in front of the basement door. Handle burning your hand with a welcoming whisper.
Donât go in there, sweetheart. Satoru's words echoed through your mind â sweet and chuckly, yet lined with this alarming tone that bounced off each and every corner of your mind.
You remembered their jokes about spiders and rats, dirty floors, and a simple room stacked with useless things. But you also remembered these weird sounds, scratching at your mind and spinning your thoughts.
This was stupid. You were stupid. Paranoid, overreacting.
It was just a basement!
So you squeezed the handle tighter, preparing for the doors to lock and needing to tell one of the bodyguards to buy you a new, stupid mixer, but then it⊠let go.
The basement opened.
And you stood there, frozen, staring into small stairs leading to the darkness. Its clutches wrapped around your body tightly, pulling you closer and closer, till you took a first step, descending into the endless murk.
The wooden stairs squeaked beneath your steps, one shorter than another. A single, old bulb hung in the room, absorbed in wetness and coldness, so you turned it on with a pull of a thin thread.
Warm bulb lighted up the room, and soon you could finally check everything your dear husbands tried to hide for all those years.
The concrete walls basking in mellow brightness, multiple boxes placed on wooden shelves, the clutter of random things you remembered buying on the discount. The Christmas decorations, some garden seeds you forgot to use, and a few tools they used while assembling the furniture. Shoes you thought were gone, some clothes, you were sure got lost during the move. Some panties, bras, a sundress you wore once during your trip to Hawaii.
Everything and nothing. The things you no longer needed and used, stuck in the boxes.
"What the hell," you murmured, looking around the cold room.
You moved to other boxes. Garden tools, cookbooks, Satoru's boxing loves, Suguru's books, other holiday decorations.
Everything was so... boring.
And there were spiders indeed, with a few mice appearing in the cold corners of the basement too, sniffing whether you brought them a piece of something delicious.
It was everything Suguru and Satoru told you. A boring, rigid place, too cold and too scary for you to ever descend alone.
Were you going mental?
With all the noises and scratching you heard from this room, staring at its doors deep into the night.
Was it really just your own imagination?
But how could it be, with the way your husbands were keeping you away from it at all costs?
Stressed, tired and nauseous, you sat on the floor, leaning on one of the concrete walls.
"What are you doing here?" Suddenly bounced off the concrete walls and you quickly lifted your head.
Nothing could prepare you for the view stretching in front of your weary eyes.
A person, a man, whom you forgot a long time ago.
Shiu, standing in front of you in a white, bloody shirt, with a glove-clothed hand slipping down a mask protecting his face.
Something coiled behind his eyes. A feeling of utter dread that seemed to seep coldly into his shuddering bones. Face twisted in shock, and feet quickly walking towards you, before he lifted you from the concrete floor with a single hand.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He repeated, gently shaking your body.
Your face looked quite the same as his â dazed and slightly grimaced, as if recalling a miserable end of your relationship.
"I should be the one asking you this," rolled almost as a bark, as you pushed him off. "What are you doing in my houâ"
"Do they know you're here?" He quickly interrupted, once again shaking your shoulders. "There's no time for brooding. Tell me. Do they know you're down here?"
When your head shook, he cursed under his breath.
"Why?" a shy ask filled the cold room, as Shiu started pacing around the basement. "Please tell me what's going on. Why am I forbidden from going down here?"
And you've noticed it. The fear bubbling in his chocolate eyes, as he rubbed his cheeks and whispered nasty curses. Gaze tracing between you and something deep within the darkness, filling another side of the endless basement. The one, where the light couldn't slip in, as if forbidden from crossing a certain border, only it was aware of.
You looked there, noticing that the basement, in fact, was much, much deeper than you expected. With another set of stairs sinking low. Into the dusky pit, with quietness bouncing off the cold walls.
"They don't," slipped in a shuddering whisper. "They're coming back tomorrow from Kyotoâ"
"Tomorrow? They'll be here in three hours," Shiu groaned, finally letting you free. "Fuck, how did you even⊠forget it. I will clear the cameras, just go back upstairs andâ"
But before he could finish and descend back into the darkness, you quickly grabbed his hand. Unconsciously, with finger curling around his forearms and eyes filled with pleading dread.
He knew what you wanted.
But he was also aware of the dire consequences that he would need to swallow.
"Please," you whispered, clutching his arm even tighter. "I need to know what's going on. What is down there?"
Shiu sighed, following your gaze towards another set of stairs. "Please, just go back upstairs and continue living the oblivious life. If you're happyâ"
"I'm not," you⊠half-lied. It's not that you weren't happy, but simply wanted to get a full view of the mystery your husbands wished to hide away from you. "Please, tell what's going on."
Shiu's forehead wrinkled in a deep frown. You saw he was considering your begging. Maybe it was a chance to get back on them after that humiliation from years ago. Maybe, if he showed you their true colours, you could at least save yourself.
For him, it was already too late.
"How much do you know about them?" He asked, voice slightly wavering with uncertainty. "Where do they work?"
Your head tilted. "In some companyâ"
"No, what do they do? What's their job?"
You frowned. "I don't know, CEO's of somethingâ"
He sighed, pressing fingers into the bridge of his nose. "Have you ever met their family?"
Silence.
"Have you been to their hometown?"
Silence.
"Do you know any of their friends?"
Your breath hitched. "Sukuâ"
"Sukuna is not their fucking friend," he almost barked, sending a wave of shiver down your spine. "Do you have any idea who you married?"
You did.
You knew that Suguru was the head of the household. With warm arms always wrapping around you in a protective embrace and a deep voice cooing sweet little nothings into your ear. He was your safe place, the most reliable person, the one you could always turn to when everything else felt too much.
You knew Satoru was the seed of your heart and soul. The lover who wished for nothing but to pepper your face with kisses and to bend your lips into a smile that would make your cheeks ache. Satoru was the one who knew how to make the deep crease between your brows disappear. How to protect you from Suguru's nasty side whenever you two had a fight. He loved both of you oh so deeply and always, somehow, managed to reconcile his dearest husband and wife whenever the storms of anger swirled over your fuming heads.
And did you truly need to know anything else, except that they would be ready to burn the world down just for a single smile of yours?
"Please," you mumbled, fiddling with a hem of your sweater. "Show me who they are."
Shiu sighed, biting on the inside of his cheeks. After a few minutes, a low fuck it bounced off the cold walls, and he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards another set of stairs.
"Be careful," he muttered, showing the way with a flashlight. "Down there will be lighter. You're lucky, because no one else is here, but you need to hurry up. They're coming back earlier than they should."
You nodded, slowly descending into the darkness.
One step after another, the creaking of old wood slipped under your skin, jabbing it with gentle bites. It was cold and damp, with an unpleasant mix of something metallic and a harsh antiseptic aftertaste that tickled your nose.
You descended into a big, dimly lit space.
The first thing you noticed was the metal chair bolted to the floor. Cold, with chains hanging from the arms and feet. You looked closer, noticing dried blood on the floor, creeping up the chair's leg, nastily coating its back.
Your gut was already twisting, vomit coming up to your throat.
"What is this place?" you whisper, noticing a long table right next to the chair, full of used towels, tools and documents.
Shiu sighed, noticing a tremble of your lower lip. "A slaughterhouse."
Your head shot towards him, eyes bulging from the dread that bit into your spine. "What d-do you mean?"
"That's where they torture people who cross their path the wrong way," Shiu said casually, as if announcing a discount at the local supermarket. Voices were chilly, slightly indifferent, eyes following towards some doors. "That's where they keep the bodies. If you look there, you may find a few familiar faces."
A muffled, terrified cry slipped past your lips as you traced the grimace twisting his face. "What p-people?" Before he could answer, you grabbed his arm. "Shiu, what people? I don't have any friends, I don't knowâŠ"
The room felt too stuffy. Your breathing grew heavier and heavier till you started desperately grasping for air, feeling your mind slip into a slow state of unconsciousness.
"Hey, hey," "Hey, hey," Shiu quickly grabbed you, giving soft pats on your back. "Calm down, breathe. If you can't handle it, just tell me. If they knew I'd brought their pregnant wife to this fucking place, the kindest end for me would be immediate death."
And you⊠felt the walls closing in around you.
Mind went blank, lips fell open with a tremble.
"Pregnant?" slipped in a dreadful murmur. "Pregnant wife?"
Shiu tilted his head, chocolate eyes following the emotions mixing on your face.
And only then did he understand.
"Don't tell meâŠ" his breath hitched for the first time. "You didn't know?"
Your head shook, tears already swelling beneath the lids.
"Fuck," he rubbed his cheek. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do you mean, you didn't know?"
But how could you, if for all this time you were sure the secret was well kept by you and your doctor?
"I-I was on UID, I d-didn't, fuck, when, I-I have no ideaâ" your breath became heavy again, and Shiu squeezed your shoulder.
"ListenâŠ" he started, leaning closer to meet your teary gaze. "You wanted to know the truth. Whatever you will see here, by all means, you must keep to yourself. The life they built for you was marked by blood from the moment you met. The guy who attacked you in the alleyâ"
A muffled cry escaped your throat. "How do youâ"
"They buried him alive. When they found out I was dating you, they threatened to go after my daughter if I didn't cut contact with you. Your doctor?" His eyes flicked to the thick metal doors. Before you could turn your head, he grabbed your chin and held you at his eye level. "They know every step you take. Every decision made behind their backs. This," His finger brushed a bump behind your neck. "Traces your every move. They don't have friends, only other crime partners who are no better than they are."
Your eyes closed, a wave of pitiful weeping rolled through your spine. Listening to him grew harder with each harsh word that rolled off his tongue. "Stop, I-Iâ"
"No," Shiu shook your shoulders, grasping back your attention. "You wanted to know the truth, so now you have to listen. You won't leave them. Won't get away anywhere unless you make a deal with another boss. Do you have contact with Sukuna?" You frantically nodded, feeling the wetness coat your swollen cheeks. "Good. After everything, go back upstairs and text him. Something short, delete it right after, before they see it. He's not a good man and in the same line of work as them, butâŠ" Shiu bit on the inside of his cheek. "His mother used to be in the same situation as you. She killed herself after the third attempt at running away. I'm sure he will help you."
You remind me of my mother, you know? His words echoed through your mind, filling your throat with the bitter taste of nausea.
"I don't want anyone else to suffer because of me," you cried, suddenly craving the warmth emanating from Shiu's body. "I don't want your daughter toâŠ"
He sighed, suddenly pulling you closer.
You hated him. Of course you did. After all the lies he fed you for months. You didn't even know he had a daughter, and in other circumstances, you would surely slap him a hundred times.
But at that moment, with a betrayal splitting your heart open and his big arms wrapping around your shivering body â the wrath boiling beneath your skin didn't matter at all.
He was risking his life just to help you escape.
"She's okay. As long as I'm doing everything they ask for, she's going to be okay," his consoling voice kissed your warm ears, sending another wave of pitiful cries through your body. "Listen, contact Sukuna. If you'll marry himâ"
You pulled away, glancing up at him with a trembling lip. "Marry? But I love them, theyâ"
"Yes, they love you too. Madly. And that's why you need to leave them. The things between the bosses work differently. If you can't go abroad, keep yourself close to him. He'll take care of you and the child."
Your hands trembled; your eyes barely kept the heaviness of his gaze, but your head, as if moved by the fear of everything you've just learned, nodded.
And then your eyes looked somewhere behind him. Towards the door he didn't tell you about.
"What is there?" A shudder escaped your throat, feet unconsciously took the first step.
Shiu looked over his shoulder, a grimace slashing across his face. "Their office. No one of us has ever been there."
None of us, meaning he wasn't the only one dirtying his hands to keep up the perfect world they built for you.
The steps echoed through the freezing room, hand stretching to grab the handle. Thoughts swirled in your mind, clashing against each other in restless murmurs showing you the terrors of a thing hiding behind the massive door.
Their office.
The room you've never been to, hiding all their secrets that would spike another wave of nausea in your throat.
And before you could pull them, Shiu's voice slashed through the air.
"They're almost here," he said, looking down at his phone. "Fuck, you need to go back. Text Sukuna, he'll help you."
"But the officeâ"
Shiu grabbed your hand, quickly coming upstairs. "Whatever there is, trust me, you don't want to see it."
Because if you did, hiding it from them would be much more difficult than it already was.
"I'll make sure to clear the cameras. They won't know you were here unless you tell them." You walked into your house, the dim moonlight creeping across the warm walls. Shiu pushed you inside, himself staying at the top of the basement stairs. "Whatever happens, try not to be afraid. Keep loving them; don't let them suspect anything. You're pregnant, so they'll try to keep you inside as much as possible. Running away will be hard, butâŠ" He sighed, lowering his head between shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know I was a dickhead. I should've told you everything. But please, get yourself away from them. You don't deserve it."
With those last words, the basement door closed while the front ones opened.
The silence and loneliness you tried to enjoy for the few days vanished into thin air. Broken by the sweet chuckles of your husbands and their eyes, dark and creamy, quickly finding you in the hall.
And when they wrapped themselves around you, arms locking you in a tight embrace, you could see nothing but the crimson liquid coating their bodies from head to toe.
The blood of all the people who died solely for their pleasure. And some of them â because of you.
Okay, so... affair with Sukuna â yes or no? At first, I didn't plan to give them a romantic relationship, but now I'm considering it since it would make things much worse for the reader. And yes, the sex would be included, so I would need to include infidelity...
(18+) ... corrupting your sweet shy boyfriend àà§
Your boyfriend was painfully innocent. The kind of guy who blushed at dirty jokes, who still said âmaking loveâ instead of fucking, and who had never even watched porn because he felt guilty about it. He was practically untouched⊠until you got your hands on him.
Tonight, you had him pinned on your bed, shirtless and breathing fast, his cheeks burning as you straddled him in just a tiny lace thong. âYouâve never touched a girl like this before, have you, baby?â you cooed, guiding his shaky hands to your tits.
He shook his head, eyes wide with nerves and barely-contained lust. âN-no⊠never.â
âGood,â you whispered, grinding slowly on the massive bulge in his pants. You took his hand and pushed it between your thighs, letting him feel how soaked you were. He let out a broken whimper the second his fingers touched your bare pussy. âFeel that? Thatâs all for you. Now be good and put a finger inside me.â
He obeyed with a shaky breath, sliding one thick finger into your tight heat. The sound he made was almost pathetic; half moan, half sob â as your walls clenched around him. âMore,â you demanded, riding his hand. âFuck me with your fingers like youâve fantasized about.â
His innocence cracked right in front of you. Soon he was pumping two fingers deep, eyes glued to the way your pussy dripped down his hand. You finally pulled your thong aside, positioned him at your entrance, and sank down slowly, taking every inch. âOh godââ he choked, eyes rolling back as your tight, wet pussy swallowed him whole. âIt feels⊠too good⊠I shouldnât-â
You moaned, starting to ride him. His hands gripped your hips desperately as you fucked him harder, whispering every filthy thing you wanted to do to him â how youâd make him eat your pussy for hours, how youâd ride his face until he couldnât breathe, how youâd turn his innocence into something addicted to your cunt.
He didnât last long. With an overwhelmed cry, he came hard inside you, filling you up with thick loads while you praised him for being such a good boy and taking you so well. When it was over, he looked up at you with dazed, adoring eyes, already half-hard again.
You smiled down at him and kissed his forehead. âWeâre just getting started, baby.â
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