22 | I'm in multiple fandoms cause my heart can't be contained. P.S. I reblog masterlists so that I can find them easily when I want to read it all over again
~18+, MDNI please~
Spider-man x Fem!Reader Oneshot
Summary When a flash flood has Spider-man seeking shelter, he winds up on your fire escape.
W.C. 6k
Tags No use of y/n for reader insert, explicit smut, mask stays on until it doesn't, strangers to lovers, thigh riding, oral (mostly just m receiving), unprotected p in v, doggy, just absolutely unrealistic escalation of events I need you to stick with me on this, mock flirting, calling him fucking spider-man the entire fic bc reader doesn't know who he is I'm sorry it is a little annoying, anywayyyy
Author’s Note does this happen before or after bnd I don't know but I do know he's never looked more hot and miserable.
ETA: I DIDNT REALIZE THAT TODAY WAS MCU PETERS BIRTHDAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY
xoxo
Rain pelts the windows of your corner unit. Fat raindrops that seem to rush down faster with every gust of wind that runs through. The sky is dark and angry, a wall of clouds that makes it look nearly night outside.
These damn summer storms
It was perfectly sunny maybe thirty minutes ago. The dark clouds rolled in out of nowhere, and it wasn't long until the heavens just completely unleashed the worst storm of the summer on New York City.
You knew it was going to rain. But you didn't know it was going to rain like this.
You watch from the windows as the rain moves sideways, people on the streets below searching for any cover they can find from this flash flood. The trees flail like tissue paper, as if their trunks and branches are mere twigs, thunder shaking your building as the storm moves closer and closer.
You slide a pizza into the oven, having decided that there was no way you were getting takeout in this weather. Music is playing low in the living room, lights illuminating your apartment in a soft glow. It’s just lucky that you were ready to stay home at this point and had no intention of leaving your apartment any time soon.
There’s a soft thud at the window outside your living room. For a moment, you think it’s nothing. Just something blowing against the wind or a trick of your imagination. But when you move into the next room, you see a flash of bright red and blue out of the corner of your eye. You blink and see someone hunched over on your fire escape. Not just someone.
It takes a second for you to process that this is real. You move quickly, pulling at the windowpane.
Spider-Man nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden noise. You finally pry your window open, water splashing inside with every rain drop.
“Hey,” he waves awkwardly. “Can I borrow your fire escape for a minute? It’s not exactly prime swinging conditions.”
“Get in here!” you wave him inside, trying to make your voice carry over the storm.
“S’okay!” Spider-Man shakes his head and holds his palms up towards you, “just waiting it out!”
You almost roll your eyes. “Come on, wait it out inside!”
Spider-Man hesitates. Cocks his head to the side slightly and considers you.
“Preferably before my apartment also gets soaked!” you add.
“Right, sorry,” Spider-man shakes his head. He slips inside.
You move to shut the window, but it has a tendency to stick. Old building and all that. Slightly embarrassed, you yank and yank, more raindrops blowing inside the longer the window stays open.
Spider-Man reaches over from behind you and, with one hand, carefully lowers the window with ease.
You turn around to see him, very much soaked and very much standing in your apartment.
“Thanks,” you smile, a little sheepishly. “It does that sometimes.”
“Don’t mention it.”
There’s a stretch of silence. Your brain slowly catches up to what your eyes are seeing. Spider-man is in your apartment. He’s in your apartment and he’s soaking wet. His suit is soaking wet and clinging to his body even more than usual and also dripping on your rug.
“Let me get you some clothes to change into,” you start for your bedroom.
“No, I’m fine, really,” Spider-Man shakes his head rapidly.
“I know, I know, you can leave the mask on,” you say. “But at least lay your suit out to dry. You’re getting water everywhere.”
“Oh,” he looks down, lifting his arms to see the wet puddle that’s accumulated by his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you give a half smile. “Plus, you're literally shaking.”
“You really don’t have to-”
“I’m already doing it,” you call behind you, already on your way to your bedroom.
Once there’s some distance between you, you take a large, steadying breath. It doesn’t work, but at least you know your lungs still work. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Bringing Spider-man into your apartment and then pressuring him to take his suit off? He’s going to think you’re insane, or a pervert at the very least.
But he is actually shaking, probably drenched to the bone. It is the least you can do at this point.
You dig through your closet, looking for some old clothes that your ex left behind. A t-shirt, hoodie, anything.
“Here you go. I think these will fit you,” you come back, and Spider-man hasn’t moved an inch since you walked off. Probably too scared of getting water everywhere, which you appreciated. “Clothes that my ex left behind. I guess they came in handy. Bathroom is that way,” you point.
Spider-man gently takes the clothes from you. He looks down at the stack, then up at you. “Right. Yeah. Uhm. I’ll just, I’ll be right back.”
He emerges shortly after. T-shirt, cargo sweat pants, and his mask still on. You bite back a grin, but it just looks so funny. That grin is quickly wiped off your face when your eyes drift down, and you notice his arms. Spider-man is much…thicker than your ex-boyfriend, the short sleeves straining around his biceps and screenprinted design stretched against his chest.
You blink a few times, trying to get your head on right.
“May I?” you rise from the couch and hold your hands out, nodding at his suit. He reluctantly hands it to you.
You move your clothes hanger closer to the radiator and pin his suit to it, hopefully getting it warm and dry without ruining anything.
“Thanks,” Spider-man says, raising an arm to scratch awkwardly behind his head. “I knew it was going to rain, but I thought I could make it back before-”
A large crack of thunder shakes your apartment.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I get it.”
There’s another awkward stretch. You’re freaking out internally, and he’s not making this easy.
“I think my pizza’s about done,” you move to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
Spider-man meanders, almost following you but not really. “You don’t have to…” he starts, trailing off.
“If you’re going to say that every time I offer you something, you can save your breath.” You open the oven door and poke at the pizza, making sure the cheese is melted and the crust is crispy. “Besides, I’ve already made it. And I’m not eating this whole thing myself.”
Spider-man sighs, his head dropping down dramatically. “You’re right, sorry. I guess I’m just- I don’t want to impose.”
“Please,” you roll your eyes, “You’ve done enough for this city. Let someone take care of you for a change.”
He doesn’t react to that. At least, not verbally. You wish you could see his face. Not to know who he is- although you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious. But it’s almost impossible to understand him this way. His tone, how he takes what you're saying- you’re completely in the dark in this conversation. It’s freaking you out.
“Just, go sit down, or something,” you nod to the couch.
Spider-man turns on his heels. He’s clearly not comfortable letting someone do anything like this for him. Makes you wonder if he lives alone. He must, right? How difficult is it to balance both lives?
“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Spider-man crosses his arms. It stretches the sleeves of the shirt even more. He uncrosses them, unsure of what to do with his hands.
You have to close your eyes for a second to collect yourself.
“Nope,” you say. “Just an exciting afternoon of trashy television and doomscrolling over pizza and wine. I’m sure you were doing much more important things when the storm hit.”
“Yes, absolutely,” he nods dramatically. “Super important, uh, super hero stuff. Top secret.”
You slide the pizza onto a cutting board, eyes flickering up to him.
“Yeah,” he sighs, “I was on my way to pick up a new lego set.”
That took no effort on your end, just a narrow gaze. It's almost like he was waiting to talk to someone about it.
You bite back a smile and nod, cutting the pizza into slices. “Yeah, that tracks.”
“What tracks?” Spider-man cocks his head to the side, taking a few steps closer.
“Nothing,” you shrug, “just that you would be hot and nerdy. You know?”
“You can’t even see my face,” he says. “How would you know if I’m hot?”
You open your mouth to respond, but your eyes fall on his arms again. On his torso. Heat floods your face and you rip your eyes away again, focusing on the task at hand.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you cough. “Just a guess.”
You pull plates from the cabinet behind you, cursing the fates that brought him into your apartment like this.
A bright light flashes through the sky, immediately followed by a crack of thunder. The eye of the storm has officially hit. You can feel it in the way your windows shudder and the raindrops come down harder and faster.
The lights surge and flicker. You hold your breath, hoping that the old wires in the building are stronger than they seem. Of course, they’re not, and everything goes dark.
“You’re joking,” you deadpan, running a hand over your face.
“You got any candles?” Spider-man tilts his head to the side.
“Uh, yeah, one sec,” you try to remember what you even have. Where they are.
Even with the ambient lighting from the street outside and the flashlight on your phone, you’re hopelessly clumsy looking for your small stash of candles. You feel around for the tealights in the cabinet in your kitchen, and the random taper candles you used for decoration at a dinner party.
“Hey,” Spider-man takes the candles from you. Not forcefully, but firmly enough that you don’t argue. “Let me. I can make my way around just fine.”
“Suddenly you have night vision?” you say, trying for a joke but not quite liking how it comes out.
“I’ve got good senses,” he says shrugs, setting up the candles around your living room.
You follow close behind, hanging on to the back of his shirt at one point when he starts walking over to the kitchen, worried that you’ll trip over a landmine, or your slippers. If he notices or minds, he doesn’t say anything.
Soon, your apartment is lit up with a gentle, amber glow. There aren't many candles, but it's enough to make your way around.
It’s annoyingly romantic, and doesn’t help the fact that your heart is already racing whenever Spider-man so much as looks your way.
“There,” you say, trying your hardest not to look at him. “All lit up. I mean. All- the candles- they’re-”
You sigh and close your eyes for a moment.
“At least this way you can eat without worrying if I can see your face,” you say, handing him a plate.
He takes it from you, your fingers brushing in a way that cannot be an accident. But you don’t know who’s fault it is. Yours or his. You swallow and take your own plate in your hands.
You both settle down on opposite sides of the couch. When Spider-man picks up a slice of pizza, you avert your eyes as he lifts his mask just enough to take a bite. Even though you can’t really make out the details of his face in this shitty candle light anyway, it feels respectful.
Rain continues to batter against your windows, and it feels all the more intense without power in the apartment.
“I’m not sure what we should even talk about,” you say in between bites. “It’s not like you can tell me where you’re from, what you do for work, what your favorite color is.”
“No,” he shrugs, “but you can tell me those things.”
“Titilating conversation,” you say, “I just talk your ear off for an hour straight.”
“This is the most I’ve talked to anyone in months,” he says, turning his head to take another bite of pizza. “Well, except for the people I'm fighting. But they don't usually like when I make conversation. And the police chief. And sometimes a few of the New Avengers. Or Frank-”
You stop eating and just look at him, taking it all in.
“Okay, so the most I’ve talked to a normal person,” he concedes.
“You don’t have like, I don’t know, a girlfriend?” you ask, super nonchalantly and not digging whatsoever. “Like a Mrs. Spider-man or something?”
He freezes and lets out a breath, biting back a laugh.
“No, there isn’t a Mrs. Spider-man,” he shakes his head.
“Pity,” you say.
It isn’t supposed to mean anything. You’re not even sure why you said it. It’s not like you think flirting with Spider-man will get you anywhere. It’s just the storm outside and the cozy candles inside and him in clothes that are obviously too tight and it’s all making you really…
Hot and bothered.
That’s it. That’s all it is. There’s a hot guy in your apartment and you're single and horny. Simple.
You clear your throat and set your empty plate on the coffee table.
“You’re nervous,” Spider-man says, cocking his head to the side a little. It’s not a question. It’s a fact. He says it calmly.
“Wh-what makes you say that?” you pull your legs in close.
“Am I making you nervous? I usually try to make people more comfortable. It’s kind of important, you know? I want people to trust me. Friendly neighbor and all that,” his voice is picking up speed the longer he goes on uninterrupted.
“Spidey,” you say.
He stops talking immediately.
“Thank you,” you nod, trying not to laugh. “I’m fine. Swear.”
“Well, I wouldn’t blame you. There is a masked vigilante in your living room,” he nods.
“You’re so focused on my comfort level, and yet you haven’t done anything to make me more comfortable?” you tease, leaning in closer.
He looks at you, face tilting downwards slightly. It’s the only thing letting you know that he’s looking down your shirt. Under which, you’re not wearing a bra. Because you are in the comfort of your own home and you were alone and didn’t realize you would have company or that said company would be Spider-man or that-
Your mouth is dry. His plate is stacked on top of yours. You clear your throat.
“You know any card games?” you say, pulling hair behind your ear. You go to stand up and he gently wraps a hand around your wrist, pulling you back down.
“You need to relax,” he says softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. Or do anything- I mean, anything that’s- if you don’t want-”
“You’re telling me to relax?” you bite your lip and settle over him, sitting on his thighs. Not quite his lap. Not yet.
Thunder claps outside again, and you jump slightly, moving closer to him. You're almost taken out of the moment. Out of your head.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Spider-man nods at you. “Still jumpy.”
You just look at him for a minute. Look at the situation, where he has you right now. His hands are settled on the couch on either side. You lean down and take them in your own, turning them over and feeling how warm he is, the callouses on the pads of his fingers.
“Maybe we both need to relax,” you say softly.
Spider-man just watches as you slowly move his hands, letting you place them on your hips. You lean in, giving him time to push you away, to tell you this is a bad idea, or completely insane. But he doesn’t. You press a kiss to his forehead, feeling the warm, real man under the suit.
He goes soft under your touch. You shift over his slightly, sitting over one of his thighs.
“Your heart rate just spiked, yeah?” he says, voice low.
“You don’t say,” you reply.
He looks down, and in the dim glow of the candle light, you can just barely make out the wet spot you're leaving on his sweats, your sleep shorts doing nothing to protect you here.
“Shit,” you hiss softly. You move to get up, trying to put distance between you again. And again, he stops you. Hands planted firmly on top of your ass with his strength, you aren’t going anywhere.
“Don’t be embarrassed," he mutters. “You’re feeling needy?”
“Maybe a little,” you shrug.
Spider-man puts gentle pressure on your hips, moving you forward on his thigh. The feeling sends heat straight through you.
Surprised, you fall forward, holding yourself up against his shoulders.
“Don’t- please-” your voice is breathy and faint, losing the battle with your racing heart.
“Let go,” he says, moving your hips again. A small whine slips past your lips against your will, and you can feel his fingers dig in slightly. “I want to watch.”
Eventually, you let your hips move without his aide. Sliding up and down the length of his thigh, the friction against your clit sending sparks through your body. It feels good. And the lights are low and there’s a storm raging outside and nothing matters at this moment. There is nothing and no one else. Just you two, alone in your apartment.
You tilt your head back, breathing quickening, and close your eyes. You’ve committed to this. Committed to your pleasure.
Spider-man raises a tentative hand under your shirt, right at the top of your ribs. Without opening your eyes, you gently move his hand further up your shirt, leading him right to your breast. You inhale sharply as he twists your nipple, a slight moan escaping your lips.
“Feel good?” he mutters.
“Mhmm,” you nod, biting your lip, eyebrows creasing. You pick up the pace, grinding against his thigh with increasing desperation.
“You gonna come on my thigh babygirl? Yeah?” he teases you, pinching and twisting your nipple, pulling louder moans. He sits back and watches you move slowly back and forth, losing yourself in the feeling.
“Please,” you breathe.
In one fluid motion, your shirt is gone, discarded on the floor. You’re not even sure which one of you slid it over your head. But it’s gone, and your nipples are hard as his thumb grazes over them.
“Please what?” he says. “You’re the one in control here.”
You fall forward, bracing your hands on his shoulders and moving your hips out. It puts more contact on your clit, and you can feel your orgasm building closer and closer. You close your eyes, jaw slack as your pants turn into long, drawn out moans. His hands move around your ass, fingers spread wide. Not pulling, but holding you steady as you ride him.
Your orgasm washes over you, and bury your face into the crook of his neck as you ride it out on his thigh, still sliding against him as you come back down.
“Fuck,” you say, voice muffled by his shoulder. He lets you stay like that for a moment, thumbs moving back and forth over your ass as you find your breath again.
You shift in his lap to sit upright, your knee knocking against the obvious- and large- tent in his sweats.
Your eyes flick down and back up to his mask, taking your bottom lip in your teeth as you brush your knee against him again, this time on purpose.
Spider-man shudders under you.
“You don’t- ugh,” he bites back a groan.
“I told you earlier that you need to let people take care of you,” you slide off his lap, eyes flickering to the damp spot you left on his thigh.
You rub your hand over his covered bulge. He lays his head back against the couch, chest rising and falling steadily.
“You gonna do that?” his hand reaches out for your cheek. “You’re gonna take care of me?”
You slip your hands under the waistband of the sweats and pull out his hard cock, already slick at the tip and aching for you. You lean forward and drop a long string of saliva onto his cock, rubbing it around with your fingers and stroking him gently.
“When was the last time someone made you feel good, Spidey?” you whisper.
Spider-man drags a hand over his mask, his other hand twitching on the couch next to you.
You drag your tongue up his length before taking him completely in your mouth. Just a little, at first. Just enough to get a taste and hear him let out a long, low groan. You drop your moth around him, taking in as much as your throat will allow.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “you’re- you’re good at this.”
You pull your mouth off him with a wet pop and smile. “You deserve the best treatment, dontcha?”
“Well, I don’t know about- oh fuck,” he bites his word back as you slide your mouth over him again, opening your throat to take his cock as far back as you can. “That’s it, just like that,” he coos.
Head bobbing up and down, you can’t help but slide your fingers under your shorts. You slip over your clit, through your soaking pussy before sliding one finger inside.
“You touching yourself down there, baby?” he nods.
“Mmm,” you blink, looking at him through your lashes.
The vibration against his dick makes Spider-man groan. You can see the mask puff out slightly by his mouth, because he’s definitely panting.
“Fuck,” he lets out a frustated groan. “You’re touching yourself, I’m- I can’t-”
He pulls you up from the floor and just stands there with you. You think his eyes are taking you in- bare chest, tousled hair, sleep shorts hanging low on your hips- you can’t actually see his gaze, but you can feel his attention.
The candle light flickers around you, and his breath is so close, but so far away.
His cock bobs over the waistband of the sweats, and you reach out to pull the waistband down further, taking his underwear, too.
“You can fuck me,” you whisper, “if you want.”
“If I want?” he lets out a low breath, echoing your words with the hint of a laugh.
You pull at the hem of his borrowed t-shirt, peeling it off over his head, making sure not to accidentally pull on the mask. He lets you, raising his arms and tugging gently when the sleeve gets caught around his biceps.
There’s some faded bruising on his ribs that you can barely make out. Clearly, they’re from an old fight, and you bend down to press small kisses over each one, mouth moving up towards his chest. Your hand wraps around his dick, stroking gently as you make your way up to his neck.
“We don’t have to do anything else,” you say softly. “But just so you know, you can do whatever you want with me.”
He tilts his head back and lets out a low groan.
“Fuck, you can’t say that,” he says, voice gravelly.
“Why not?” you look up at him through your lashes.
Spider-man’s shoulders settle, his head tilts to the side. Just barely. You wish you could read his expression.
“Because I want to,” he says.
He seems to have made up his mind.
Spider-man takes you by the hand and folds you over the arm of the couch, pulling your ass in the air. He drags his hands up the backs of your thighs, gently pushing your legs apart.
“Don’t turn around, okay baby?” he says.
You nod.
“Okay?” a heavy hand comes down on your ass.
You yelp. “Okay! I won’t. I swear.”
“Good,” he breathes.
There’s some movement behind you, and in your periphery, you see his mask land on the coffee table. Spider-man takes his first unobstructed breath. A deep, low breath. You squirm under him, your neediness blooming within you.
He bends over you, pressing open, wet kisses along your back. His teeth grazing your skin every so often. Mouth warm and hungry, you didn’t realize how something so simple could make you feel so good.
“I’m gonna slide these off, is that okay?” he toys with the elastic waistband of your shorts.
“Yes,” you mewl, already breathless.
He moves your shorts down, exposing your pussy to the cold air. You shudder slightly as he moves his face closer, his breath making your cunt pulse in anticipation.
“Goddamn,” he breathes. He presses a few more kisses to your inner thighs, before dragging his tongue up through your cunt.
“Oh my god,” you groan. His tongue slides in and around you, savoring the taste of you, spending time on your sensitive clit.
“What’s got you so wet? Hm?” he says, his fingers pulling you apart just a little. “You this pent up over a little grinding?”
You bury your face in the couch cushion, heat rising in your cheeks. When he moves his mouth away, you immediately feel frustrated and needy again, validating his teasing words.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he mutters. “Be a good girl and remember what I said.”
You arch your back as his hands travel over you. Touching and grabbing every soft curve and plush fold. It’s enough to make your head spin.
“I promise. I promise, I’ll be good. I won’t turn around,” you plead.
“That’s it,” he says, voice low and appraising. “Thatta girl.”
It’s embarrassing how much the words run through you. Your body heats up, cheeks flush and skin prickly. The lack of air conditioning in your apartment is starting to have an effect, and there’s already sweat collecting at your hairline.
You feel his cock slowly poke at your cunt, and your eyes close as you stretch to make room for him. He slowly sinks in, inch by inch, until his hips are flush against your ass. You let out a low, desperate moan.
“Look at you,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re sucking me right in.”
“Feels s’good,” you whine.
He starts to move. Slowly, at first. Letting you get used to the feeling of him filling you up. His hands hold you tightly at your hips, fingers sinking into your soft skin.
You arch your head back, looking up at the ceiling. At the last second, you close your eyes, not willing to do anything to risk him getting spooked and pulling out. This feels too good to lose.
His fingers wrap around your hair, close to your scalp positioning your head exactly where he wants it. You whine a little at the contact, but it doesn’t bother you. If anything, it makes you hotter.
“Careful, doll,” he breathes, his voice firm.
His other hand moves around your hip, gently pressing his fingers over your clit and moving in small circles. It sends sparks through your body.
“I can already feel you twitching around me,” he mutters. “You like when I play with your pussy? While I’m filling you up?”
“Yes,” you mewl, pushing your hips closer to him, “yes, I do. I do, fuck.”
“Yeah, I knew it,” Spider-man breathes out half a laugh. He bends over and presses another kiss to your back. “You’re gonna come again for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna let me feel that pretty pussy come around my dick.”
You let out a low, bitten off moan as his pace picks up, hips slapping against your ass. You feel insane, he’s reaching so deep inside you and it feels so good.
His hand moves from your hair to your face, pressing firmly over your eyes. Slowly, he pulls you up against him, pressing your back flush against his chest.
Without being able to see him, everything else is amplified, making your head spin. His strong hands holding you, fingers still slow over your clit, his breath in your ear. It’s all you have to focus on, and it’s driving you crazy.
“So pretty, you know that?” His lips move against the pulse point of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His voice is low, it's making you insane. “Letting me fuck you like this. You can’t even see me.”
His words are hoarse right against your ear. He feels it too. This pleasure coursing through you. You can feel that familiar pressure building again.
“Right there,” you breathe. “Don’t stop.”
“Good,” he mutters, “tell me what you need.”
“Just,” you breathe, leaning back into his hold. You can feel sweat dripping down your back, between your bodies. His fingers twitch against your eyes, but don’t move away. “Just like that.”
Spider-man sucks a bruise right above your shoulder, and suddenly, it’s all too much. Your legs want to give out, but he’s holding you so tightly against him, you have no choice.
“Fuck!” you moan as the crescendo hits.
“That’s right,” Spider-man keeps his pace, fucking you through it. “Let me have it- f-fuck.”
You cry out, and his pace stutters as you come undone, cunt clenching around him, panting and writhing in his grip.
Spider-man gently folds you back over the couch, moving his hand away from your eyes and grabbing a handful of your ass.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants. “That was- you just- I’m so close.”
You tilt your hips up slightly, letting get a better angle. You’re so stuffed and overstimulated, you probably couldn’t turn around if you wanted to.
Spider-man lets out a choked sound and suddenly pulls out. He pants through it, breaths short and rapid, stroking himself to completion. You can feel him let out sticky ropes of cum all over your bare ass.
Both of you stay like that for a moment, just panting and coming back down to earth.
“Good job,” he kisses your shoulder blade. “Just, uh, stay there for a second.”
“I don’t think I can move, anyway,” you mutter against the couch cushion.
There’s movement and commotion behind you. His footsteps carry him away, and you hear the bathroom door creak open. Suddenly, there’s a warm, wet feeling of a fresh washcloth being gently wiped over your sensitive pussy, and cleaning off your ass.
You smile to yourself, letting Spider-man take care of you. There’s another pause, and you see the mask lift away from the coffee table.
“Okay, you can- well, you can look now,” he says. And you already miss the clarity of his voice without the mask.
You blink slowly and turn your head back. “You didn’t have to put it back on right away,” you sigh. “I could have kept my eyes closed a little longer.”
“Yeah, but then I couldn’t do this,” he says. Spider-man gently unfolds you from the couch, taking you in his arms.
He carries you down the hall to your to your bedroom, and settles you on your bed. You tug on his hand, so he crawls next to you, pulling you to his side so you can lay your head on his chest.
It’s quiet for a moment. You can feel his heartbeat, once pounding, now calming down to a steady pace.
You have no idea how long you’ve been laying like that when the power comes back on. It’s rude and bright, illuminating the reality of what just happened. You drag your eyes out the window and finally let yourself notice that the clouds are a little less angry, the rain a little less intense.
“The storm has let up,” you mutter.
“Yeah,” he sighs, running a hand up and down your back.
“You can go get your legos,” you settle your chin on his chest, suppressing a smirk.
“Jesus,” he drops his head back and drags a hand over his face. “I can’t believe I told you that. Ace flirting.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” you raise your eyebrows, looking down at your naked bodies still tangled together. “Come on, let’s see if your suit is dry.”
You press a soft kiss to his chest.
You know his suit is going to be dry. You know that as soon as you make it to the living room, he’s going to get changed again and leave. This will be just a crazy memory. But you know better than you hope that this could last any longer.
Spider-man puts his suit back on in your living room, and you watch from the couch, wearing the old t-shirt you had just peeled off of his chest. It’s amazing how the suit molds to his body. And more amazing that you now know what that body looks like. What it feels like.
He opens the window out to the fire escape and sticks his head out, noting that the rain has slowed to a gentle drizzle.
“Yeah, I can head out in this,” he says. “It’s just, when it downpours like that, you get really weighed down. Totally messes up the velocity of my swing, how I move through the air, you know?”
“No,” you shake your head, smiling, “I don’t think I do.”
“Right,” he nods.
You rise from the couch, the t-shirt sliding up your bare thighs, and pad closer.
“Thanks for letting me wait the storm out,” Spider-man says, climbing out to the fire escape.
“Wait,” you lean out the window, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Spider-man looks back at you, positioning his body to face you fully. You take a breath and reach out, settling your fingers along his jaw. Testing the waters. Making sure this is okay.
He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t swat at your hand. So you take it one step further. Hoping that, for whatever reason, he trusts you enough.
You lift his mask. Just slightly. Just enough. Right under his nose. He licks his lips, clearly nervous. You see his jawline up close, run a light touch along it.
“Be safe,” you say quietly, and press a light kiss to his lips.
You go to pull away, only for him to move closer, deepening the kiss. Fire moves through your belly, and you groan into his mouth. He finally pulls away, readjusting his mask.
“I’ll see you around,” he nods, gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer.
You watch as he falls backwards, into the air, and swings away.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter to yourself, scrubbing your eyes with your hands.
You turn back to your apartment, the romance of the afternoon gone with Spider-man. Plates stacked on the coffee table, your clothes strewn about on the floor, remaining pizza getting cold in the kitchen.
It takes a week for you to stop thinking about him randomly. To stop getting distracted at work, remembering how he groaned in your ear, what he sounded like calling you babygirl. To not get wet and annoyed every time you see a story about him on the news.
It takes a week for you to settle back into your regular life, making peace with the fact that you had a one-off hook up with a superhero, and it will be a story you tell your grandkids when you have one foot in the grave.
But, it also takes a week for you to hear a soft knock at your window, and see a familiar figure waiting on your fire escape. Your heart skips a beat.
You bite your lip, and raise the glass, leaning out the window.
desc;; MDNI, post-time skip, bestfriends 2 lovers, multiple orgasms, finger fucking, soft dom suna, afab!reader, not prof read, rin had a crush on you ever since… so he decides to shoot his shot! , p in v , vaginal sex, squirting, bsf!sunarin → bf!sunarin
AN;; trying something new :) expect mistakes or spelling errors wc: 884
.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭
• bestfriend!suna has heard you complain about it for months. every time the topic of sex comes up during your late-night calls or when you’re chilling at his place after his ejp raijin practices, you sigh and say the same thing everytime. “no one’s ever been able to make me squirt. they all tap out or get tired before it even gets close.”
he’s usually half-laying on the couch scrolling through his phone with that signature lazy smirk, but this time he actually looks up, eyes narrowing with interest.
“bet i could,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather.
you laugh in his face. “yeah right, rin. you’re my best friend, not some sex god.”
• bestfriend!suna just raises an eyebrow, setting his phone down. “i’m serious. give me one night. if i can’t make you squirt, i’ll get ya anything you want. but if i do…” his smirk turns sharper, “you admit i’m better than every guy you’ve ever let touch you.”
you thought he was joking.
he wasn’t.
.𖥔
two nights later you’re in his apartment after one of his games, still buzzing from watching him dominate on court. weell… one teasing conversation turns into a full blwown makeout session on his couch, and before you know it he has you pinned to his bed, long fingers already buried deep inside you.
• bestfriend!suna is annoyingly good. he takes his time, curling those stupidly long fingers against that spongy spot inside you while his thumb circles your clit with lazy precision. his hazel eyes stay locked on your face the entire time.
“told you,” he murmurs, voice low and smug as he speeds up. “you’re already soaking my hand,”
you’re stubborn, still trying to deny it even as your thighs start shaking. but rintaro just leans down, lips brushing your ear.
“let go. i know you can squirt for me, pretty girl.”
• bestfriend!suna doesn’t stop when you cum the first time. he keeps fucking you with his fingers through it, palm pressing firm against your clit, curling harder, faster, wet obscene sounds filling the room as he forces you higher.
“c’mon pretty girl… give it to me.”
your second orgasm hits harder. your back arches clean off the bed and you squirt all over his hand and wrist, soaking his forearm and the sheets beneath you. the sound you make is broken and shocked. suna’s eyes darken with satisfaction.
“there we go,” he breathes, looking way too proud of himself. “fucking knew you could.”
his fingers out slowly, savoring the way your walls flutter around them. he doesn’t rush. instead, he leans down and kisses you deep as he lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked entrance.
• bestfriend!suna fucks you through three more orgasms that night, making you squirt two more times — once while you’re riding him, and once when he has your legs pushed back to your chest, pounding deep and relentless.
every time you soak his cock and stomach, suna lets out this low, warm chuckle, almost like he can’t believe how good you feel. his thumb keeps gently circling your swollen clit, eyes half-lidded as he watches you fall apart with pure adoration.
“look at you…” he murmurs between slow, deep thrusts, sweat slipping down his messy brown hair. “so beautiful like this. i’ve got you, baby. just let go for me.”
when he finally cums, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning softly against your neck as he fills you up, hips twitching with every pulse. his voice is rough but gentle when he whispers,
“all mine… only me from now on, kay?”
you’re a trembling, soaked mess underneath him, sheets completely ruined, thighs sticky with both of you. all you can do is weakly smack his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.
“told you i could,” he whispers,
.𖥔
• bestfriend!suna made good on his bet. after that night he didn’t even give you a chance to pretend it was a one-time thing. the next morning you woke up to him already scrolling through his phone next to you, arm slung over your waist like it belonged there.
“morning, squirt,” he said with that lazy smirk, not even looking up. you threw a pillow at his head.
• annoying boyfriend!suna is literally the worst (and best) thing that’s ever happened to you. he went from your stupid best friend who sent you dumb texts at 3am to the guy who now texts you “thinking about how pretty you look when you’re crying on my dick” while you’re in a work meeting.
• annoying boyfriend!suna is obsessed with making you squirt now that he knows he can. he turns it into a game. movie night? his hand is in your panties the whole time. lazy sudnay morning? he eats you out until the sheets are ruined and you’re pushing his head away because you can’t take anymore.
“rin— rinnie i can’t—”
“you can. don’t be dramatic. give me one more.”
• annoying boyfriend!suna is ridiculously clingy in the most infuriating way. he’ll lay on top of you after sex, still buried inside you, refusing to pull out while he scrolls through his phone and occasionally thrusts lazily just to hear you whine.
Summary: With a 3-year-old son, reader is now facing the reality of her emotional connection with a certain web-slinger. Peter is distraught seeing how the world moved on without him. Is this little boy his ticket to his old life?
Cw: angst asf, violence?
Word Count: 6.1k. Link to PT. 1
AN: Here’s part 2! Thank you for the love on pt. 1!! I've decided this is going to be a 3-parter. I got a little carried away with this one. Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for pt. 3. I've already drafted it, so it should be out soon! So sorry for how bad the NYC geography is in this. My Google Maps gave up on me, so I was mostly winging it!
Weaving between vents and electrical boxes, the rooftop provided little shelter from the wind and giant clouds rolling in, threatening to drench your pink peacoat. You could feel your hair brushing across the pilling wool. Your eyes, scanning the roof, looking for someone. Reaching the ledge and looking over, the feet below and bustling of the city was soothing. There was something meditative about seeing the distance between yourself and the ground, floors apart. Inhaling a deep breath and closing your eyes, a wash of acceptance rolled over. Almost a "giving up" feeling but not negative.
A loud thump behind you shocked your system as you turned over your left shoulder.
"Hi, baby. Sorry I scared you."
Your arms wrapped around his shoulder and neck. Taking in his scent. Ozone, men's cologne... gasoline?
"You're here now." You feel your voice say, a comfort to him or yourself, you're not quite sure. A soothing smile creeping up the corners of your mouth.
You pull back to meet his face...
Damn it. You can never hold on long enough to register his face. Not enough to discern him or identify him if he walked past you on the street. This was the most frustrating part.
He took up your whole life only 4 years ago. You began to theorize that something major had happened in the time just after high school graduation. You wondered if he was consumed with these memories too, reaching toward them just as you do. Does he cling onto these same memories as you do, hoping to remember enough to come find you?
He left you with a beautiful son that he likely has no idea about. He would have been a part of his life if he knew. You were sure of it. Weeks worth of memories made you certain of his character. Maybe he would have left you alone if in real danger, but a son is something different entirely.
Now, you had to piece together his appearance from your son's small traits.
He was probably energetic and kind, just like James. He had curly brown hair and likely had big brown eyes, though that ran in your family too. He was strong and athletic.
The problem was James was his own person. He didn't inherit all of your traits, there was doubt that he'd be his father's carbon copy. If he did, your mystery man would have a Spider-Man obsession heavy enough to enact whole fights in your living room. That'd be ridiculous.
Everyone was grateful for Spider-Man, but you worried that fostering this idolization of him to your son could put him in danger. What if James grew up and stumbled across a dangerous crime, deciding to take it into his own hands?
A car honk shook you out of your own thoughts.
MJ and Ned had finally graduated MIT and were moving home. You had been looking forward to this since that first August without them. Though Ned came home every break, minus a study abroad summer and a research job in Australia one winter, MJ avoided coming home at all.
You knew she had grown up in a shaky home that offered little stability, but you tried not to ask her too much detail in your 8 years of friendship. As a result, though, she only came and visited a handful of times over the past few years. She had stayed with you in Lissie and Ty's apartment once, but only for a day or two.
Instead, you would attempt to wrangle James in his car seat for the drive to Boston once or twice a year. It was hard to socialize the same way, though. You'd visit their dorms and apartments with an especially active small child and couldn't join them when they went bar hopping or smoking with friends. Often, it entailed lunchtime hangouts and outings across the city. You couldn't keep up with their venting about heavy classes or stories of their partying. They tried their best, though. It'd be significantly easier now that they were back in the city too.
You had kept busy in a nursing program. It wasn't the biomed focus you had dreamed of at 18, but you filled your cup helping sick people either way. After graduating with an online ADN associates and an accelerated BSN straight after, you still felt confident in your achievements.
The job you had lucked into while starting your bachelors offered very predictable hours for a single mom, too. Daycare and preschool time always lined up, so James wouldn’t need to be taken care of by somebody else. And your work was close to the preschool, located in a practice within the hospital building, the preschool only a block away.
All had worked out and you wouldn't trade it for anything. You can't imagine your life as a research student, let alone without James.
On mornings like these, pushing James in a toddler stroller to get to work, the breeze from the trees and the rising sun between the buildings gave you time to think. James had been in a good enough routine at this point, where he didn't give you nearly as much trouble as in previous months. What an energetic boy.
Finally reaching the converted firehouse that the preschool had taken over, James practically rushed out of your sight to his little friends. You had to intentionally catch him to kiss his little face goodbye. The stroller, now stowed in a closet, a deal you had made with the preschool principal.
Taking one last look at the little boy, beaming toward his friends while picking out their toys, you pushed the handle of the door to leave.
His eyes were laser-focused on his computer, occasionally furrowing his brows and sticking his tongue out to spur his brain to work more effeciently. As if sensing your presence, his head reared over his right shoulder, eyes softening as they met yours. That same slow-motion glow overtaking him.
He looks like a carbon copy of James in these memories. These ones you let float away from you, just letting yourself enjoy the fleeting presence of him and the peace he brings. No good in tainting that memory by stressing further. Some of these ones are to be cherished in that little box in the back of your head. It never gave any extra identifiers as some of the others, so the enjoyment they gave you could just be left as is. A small gift to brighten your day and ground you to real life.
A bell rings as the door opens, your uniform non-slip shoes carrying you out the door and back into the bustle of the city.
Peter hollers from stories above the ground, swinging between apartment buildings and skyscrapers, "Whoop!"
Web,
hold on,
swing,
bring legs forward,
gain momentum,
release...
He didn't think he could ever get over how fun it was just to do the act of swinging.
And the pride it gave him to keep his city safe, unbeatable.
"X-P-four-zero-T... a transporter of explosives has been hijacked and is speeding down 20th heading east." the police scanner sounded out through the suit.
"Hey E.V., track the motion of the transporter. That's getting close to the hospital."
He picked up his swinging pattern, now cutting a sharp left at the next open street. He didn't usually feel much anxiety when swinging to face the next villain. On most occasions, he'd spend his swing mentally preparing himself, almost pumping himself up to lead with confidence.
This time, however, he felt a pit form in his stomach. Explosives driving down streets in transporters were not the biggest fish to fry. He had fought a slew of multidimensional villains and a universe-snapping purple behemoth.
Something felt off.
A huge crash interrupted his thought process. The massive transporter truck grazed the size of a brick building, hurling through the bodega. As he swung by, Peter assessed the damage: any civilians? any animals? The owner!
"Hey, sir, are you okay? All good? Okay, see ya! Stay safe!"
The truck regained the road and barreled down it, passersby fleeing the streets. The truck was hurling at huge speed for a metropolitan road, it was a challenge for Peter to keep up.
After webbing to the back, his whole body was being dragged along the asphalt. He pulled himself up, climbing to the roof, then crawling to the windshield
"Hey buddy! Whatcha got back there? Woahhhhh, you've got some pretty big bombs back there huh?"
The driver took a pistol and narrowly missed his shot as Peter dodged his head to the side.
"Alright, this has been fun. How do you feel about pulling over and we can settle this man-to-man?"
The driver turned the wheel, crashing into more buildings and crushing Peter against them.
He groaned for a second,
"I take that as a no?"
Took a second to breathe, then webbed the brakes down, slowing the tank very slowly
His jaw almost met the barrel of a huge gun, but swiftly moved away from it, allowing his hands to grip it and web it to the side of the van, out of the driver's reach.
As the transporter slowed, the driver once again scraped a building, then bounced off and rammed into a wall across the road, dividing two buildings: a small converted firehouse preschool and an office space.
Peter moved quickly. He knew this guy was dangerous and trigger-happy.
"Alright, let's move, move! Everybody out, head to the hospital, police are meeting there.”
He saw some younger workers leading small children out, a few carrying crying toddlers out.
He met eyes with an older woman. Her nametag showing she was the owner.
"Ma'am! Do you have rosters or attendance sheets? I don't want any little ones unaccounted for."
"They should be sitting in a folder case at the back desk. Thank you, Spider-Man!"
He manuvered with his webs across the rubble. Dust and rocks decorating rainbow carpetted floors. He remembered his years at daycare. He loved the carpet with the roads on it, always taking his tiny cars and seeing how efficiently he'd be able to drive.
His eyes rifted upward to that back desk, a child hiding under it, griping the leg of the desk and turned away from him. A tiny knit jacket over little denim overalls. A Spider-Man emblem embroidered on the front pocket, which revealed itself when the little boy turned to him.
"Hey buddy... you okay?"
His eyes looked up at him, wide open. He let go of the leg of the table with one arm and looked down at his hand, his tiny fingers not yet coordinated enough to form the web hand on his own. He took his other hand and pushed his middle two fingers down and held them out at the superhero.
Peter did it right back at him, smiling wide under the mask.
"What's your name, little spider?"
"My name's James", he replied through a lisp, making his J sound more like a "dzz" sound.
Peter's heart softened.
He focused a little harder on James' face. His ears and nose looked like his in his childhood photos. He thinks his aunt had the same picture, once.
A creaking door swung open, the villain finally finding the strength to get out of the transporter.
"Stay here, James. I'll get you out soon."
Peter assumed position to fight, the newfound motivation of a trapped civilian now running through every vein.
"Alright kaboomy, let's fight this out."
A web throwing him closer to the villain, encircling his body in web.
The man, now clad in giant vests and a huge helmet, lacked in agility, but had a massive destructive threat.
They tossed around, almost disarming the other, then being overtaken the next moment.
Peter was thrown across the preschool floor, hitting a bookcase and being covered in books
"You guys should really mount these bookcases; that's quite a hazard with little kids around," he groaned.
Then something was thrown his way. He took a second to register. A grenade!
"Woah woah woah!!" considering throwing it back to the attacker, but had enough judgment that it could cause a massive chain reaction. He webbed over it instead, filling the whole building with the sticky, strong webs.
It was enough to slow the attacker and web his hands behind his back and wrap him against a front pillar, the police swarming behind him.
James!
He knelt down to the little guy and inspected for damage, "You okay?? You were really brave out there!"
James locked around his shoulders, "That was so cool!"
He swiftly carried him out of the building and into the streets, which had been barricaded off. A nurse emerged from the crowd, weaving through the police. "James! Oh god, I was so worried, baby."
His face found hers.
The world slowed to a halt. A fuzzy, warm haze covered his vision.
It was you.
4 years, he had spent leaving you to live your life.
Was this your son?
Oh god, wait. How does that timeline line up? How old is James? Like 2? 3?
Before he could reel more, your eyes locked, even through the opacity of the white in his goggles.
Your eyes were just the same, without the sparkling reflection of your tears overflowing them and spilling down your cheeks.
Was he holding his son?
James reached out to his mom, "I helped Spider-Man, mama!", making a sound to emulate the shooting of webs.
Your eyes softened, processing the whole situation.
"Thank you." Your voice wavered as your words stumbled out.
"You have a beautiful son. He did very well."
"He scared me half to death. Thank you for protecting him." A small, nervous laugh joined your crying.
The world seemed to speed up when an officer called him over. By the time he had finished this conversation, you had disappeared.
Holy shit.
He closed the window of his tiny apartment behind him, throwing off his suit in anger.
For a second he tried to calm himself down with a cleansing breath. Then, rushed to the kitchen, grabbing the first glass he could find and running it under the tap to gather water. He leaned down and rested his head on his bent arm. Every nerve in his body was buzzing. every breath awoke the cells at every endings in his lungs. Absolute terror and panic was pouring into his body, as if filling him from the feet, to the torso, to the neck, through his throat, finally spilling out through his eyes as the glass in his hands overflowed.
He threw the cup down into the sink, not caring how many shards of glass he'd have to pick up.
He had spent 4 years trying to give you space, let you live your life. He had convinced himself that he was giving you a gift by leaving your life. You could finally have sleep and free time and friendships. You would be able to walk down the street without fear of being targetted.
Instead, he had left you with a baby to raise and abandoned his son.
Every night he spent crying, convincing himself not to stop by your apartment, every anxious thought when a crime would happen close to Lissie's apartment, every rooftop pep talk he would scream at himself...
It had only ever been hurting you.
He turned his attention to his suit, now discarded on the floor.
The goggles, laying on the top of the pile, staring straight into his soul.
His son's birth
First steps
First day of school.
Christmases
Birthdays
...
A proposal
Maybe even a wedding.
His anger only tripled. Every thought, fueling exponential growth in his anger.
Absolute distain for what that terrible spider had brought into his life.
Disgust with what that suit represented. He had missed his son's life. He abandoned the love of his life. Aunt May had been killed. To others, that suit was a saving grace. To Peter, it was a life sentence.
The spell was supposed to fix it for everyone. Nobody could be hurt for knowing Peter as Spider-Man again.
He felt cursed. He felt betrayed.
He threw the suit across the room, then picked up the closest thing he could find to hit against the nearest wall.
Crash!
Shattering glass.
After taking a second to focus his mind, he looked down at the fallout.
A picture frame upside down, surrounded by broken glass.
No. Oh no no. No.
Peter knelt down beside it.
Your prom photo. The solo one May had requested to get a full look at your dress. Your makeup was beautiful. Your hair pinned back in big curls. A big smile that missed slightly behind May's camera. You had been looking at him in the last second before the picture was taken.
It was his absolute favorite photo of you, though you thought it made you look dorky.
He slowly began to pick up the shattered glass, placing the picure frame delicately on his huge desk. Then, swept, mopped, and looked around.
He walked toward the suit, folding it back up and putting the mask on his stand.
Lastly, Peter gathered the broken glass from the cup in the sink, tossed it, inspected for smaller shards, then plopped himself on his bed.
He wrapped himself in his blankets and allowed his mind to wander off, cooling off his seething frustration from just moments ago.
He found himself at a crossroads. Attempt to organically fall in love with you... a few holes already. What about the little boy? That wouldn't cover why he was his twin. Or, find you and tell you straight up, risking your anger at him.
Does he start with Spider-Man right out the gate? Does he have ot go through a second reveal?
He took a second to take a breath in, toss himself to the other side of the bed, then finally exhale.
What if it wasn't black and white. You could start as friends, then tell you. He could maybe wing it from there. If you were raging mad at him, he could still check on you and keep both of you safe.
He didn't think he had it in him to pretend. It might overwhelm him again. Make him freeze up.
He bet you had moved in with Lissie. It was worth a shot to check that old apartment building he had seen you crying in all those years ago.
You had been running. A panic had crept up to the edges of your neck, lingering by your ears. The crumbling beneath your feet, not yet noticable to you, but growing increasingly obvious to him. You didn't even feel when the huge chunk of cement from the bridge began falling, slowly sliding toward the water below. Mysterio, still focused on fighting the monster on the other edge of the bridge.
He watched in slow motion as your foot slipped, knocking you to the ground. The ground that was extremely unstable, only held to the bridge by friction, but threatening to plunge into the frigid water below at another stomp of the monster.
Just then, you felt the ground move below you, jerking you to the right and scraping up your elbows on the jagged rock.
Air beneath your feet. Nothing was keeping you stable. Your limbs reached out for any rock nearby to cling to, but had been knocked off at the force of the monster's heavy punch to the bridge. Your hair blew in front of your eyes. Was it an act of mercy to not see the water below, or a way to make you more docile when the water enevitably caught your body.
Before you could even keep up with your inner monologue, a gentle hand was keeping with your pace, then supporting your head and pulling you upward, catching you at the very bottom-most point of a swing.
Setting you down across the road from the mouth of the bridge, he frantically grabed to your face, searching to see any visible injuries.
"Are you okay?? Hey, can you hear me? Are you hurt at all?"
When your focus pulled back in, his face came into view. He was covered in a Spider-Man mask.
Wait that's not how that memory should go.
A loud thud outside your bedroom window woke you from your dream. Memory? Your whole body shot up in fear and surprise, jolting befor you could even register the end of the dream. Where you would normally be reeling trying to hang onto the memory, your brain couldn't process anything at all, making your eyes dart to the window before even registering danger.
Your blinds were a sheer off-white and were covering the window with a dreamy haze. A slight wave made them move like sails. Behind the creases in the waves of the curtains, an uncertain flash of red was hidden out of sight.
Though you felt unease, it was the same feeling you had felt at prom, when you had to make yourself trot downstairs in your flashy gown and makeup. It was the sense that this situation couldn't be avoided, but had to be marched into with courage.
Your legs threw themselves off of the bed, allowing your feet to slowly meet the carpet and bring your body upright.
James.
The scene from Tangled flashed in your mind. A mysterious figure wrapping your baby up and taking them out the balconied window.
Your panic was soothed seeing the sleeping boy in his tiny bed, tucked into the closet, his makeshift bedroom. His tiny snores tucked into the pillow, his little eyelashes resting on his round cheeks.
Your attention turned back to the window, where the figure was now facing you, kneeling just outside on the fire escape.
Your body began moving without your permission, as though it felt it knew better for you. As though you had done this a million times.
Peeling back the sheer curtains, an overwhelming somberness crept up your body like a vine.
Your eyes locked with white goggles, then quickly scanned his figure, red and blue. Spider-Man?
Your first thought was danger. Spider-Man fought danger and was only attentive to individuals when an active threat was nearby.
But he was so calm, even as you slid the window open.
His head tilted slightly and froze, staring at you.
It could have been seconds or minutes you stood like that, peering slightly upward to meet his face.
Muscle memory kicked in again, pushing off of your hands onto the windowsill and onto the fire escape.
Slow motion as your manuvered yourself onto the cramped sheet of grated metal and crouched to meet him.
You felt him almost snap out of it, realizing he had been lost in the situation, frozen with his eyes locked on you.
Your face had a new maturity.
Not wrinkles, but age. Your eyes looked much more tired. Not from lack of sleep, but hard work.
Your hair had been cut shorter. Peter wondered if it was one of those "mom cuts" he had heard about. He wondered if baby James had gripped his fingers in your hair one too many times, finally spurring you to keep it short.
Your nails were now short and unpolished, too. You used to occasionally get them done, then neglected them until they were chipped and bitten away. Now, they were well-groomed, almost. Filed, maybe. Smooth around the edges in a way they never had been.
"Spider-Man?" Your voice frayed at the edges, cracking slightly toward the end.
He froze for a second again. He took in the sound of your voice, the way your teeth shone, the worn-off chapstick on your lips. Mint? You still smelled like your same conditioner. A hint of that green apple detangler Aunt May used on him as a child. Back when Aunt May let him grow his hair longer, then decided to cut it, by the little knots next to his ears that just wouldn't let up. You used that on James, didn't you?
"Hi..." in an exasperated sigh.
Your brows tied together.
"Is something wrong?"
A warm tear fell down his face, gathering at the bottom of his goggles.
"Your son's name is James?"
"Uh, yeah. James."
"Is he..." his head gestured toward the window "...in there?"
You nodded.
Anxiety was moving up your chest, beckoning, gathering tears.
He let out a deep sigh. An attempt to soothe his system. It didn't help much, though. He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his head down.
Your face, similarly tilting downward to try to find his eyes.
"It's you, isn't it?"
He felt like his heart had stopped. You continued,
"I have these flashes of memories, but I have no idea who it is. I don't know where they are. It has been killing me not knowing."
A beat.
You tried again, "I've been so scared. Did something happen?"
His hand reached out to your arm. You let him. His fingers met your pajama top.
An oversized shirt. A band shirt.
That was his shirt. An old Tears for Fears shirt. You once had joked about how silly they had looked in the album cover.
He didn't fight the tears anymore. Instead, "Can I hug you?" in a very small, broken voice. You had never imagined Spider-Man to have ever shown an ounce of fear-- or sadness, whatever this was.
You pulled him in before he could keep up with what was happening.
You didn't hold him too close, though. You kept that same distance on late nights when he'd come in really hurt. When black, gnarly bruises were latching onto his ribs.
You held him by his shoulders, pulling his head to rest in the crook of your neck, not yet allowing his chest to meet yours. The crouching position you both were in probably didn't allow that either way, though.
A few minutes passed, with tears falling between the two of you. Quiet sobs in each other's necks. Both of you were losing awareness of the sleeping boy inside.
A little snore, louder than the rest, pulled you both out of it, darting your heads to his bed.
The wind blew through the sheer curtains, only allowing small flashes of the bedroom inside. You noticed Spider-Man's breath hitching seeing James sleeping inside.
"Can I?" You could tell he was fighting back a full collapse of himself, cutting off his sentence before he could lose all control.
You gave him a little nod, using his hand to gesture him inside.
After he pulled himself inside, you held onto the sides of the window for support. While trying to get your footing on the windowsill, you lost your grip. Though you certainly could have found your way down safely, Spider-Man caught your hips before you could realize you were falling.
Rubble had fallen all around the taxi, your body safe in the backseat, but only having sunlight pour in through a small hole above. He had rushed to your side, talking you down from your panic. After minutes of encouragement and breaks where he would try to chip away at the rubble, you had finally gained the courage to attempt to crawl out, despite the groaning of pressure from the boulders of concrete. One step at a time, one hand, one foot. It could only be less than 10 feet, but it became evident you were running out of time.You could see his mask and outstretched red glove from the small crawlspace, finally pulling you out. He grabbed your hips on the way down, pulling you into his body. "Oh thank god, thank god. You're okay, my love, it's okay.", he had mumbled into your hair.
It was him.
You held the back of your hand out and felt the ridges of black rubber on his mask.
Bump, bump, bump
"I knew it." Your eyes looked up at him in wonder.
But you both turned back to the bedroom, the little boy only a few feet away.
You led him by his wrist to kneel down to James' tiny bed. Silent sobs shook his whole body, your head resting on his shoulder as you both faced your son. Your son. His son. His tiny boy.
"I'm so sorry I missed this. I had no idea..."
"What happened? Why can't I remember you?"
A pause.
He leaned closer to you, his hand finding the edge of James' bed to keep him close.
"My identity was revealed. It threatened your school, MJ and Ned’s, too. All of these villains came into the universe angry at Peter Parker..." he took a breath and continued. "My aunt died. I couldn't risk it... I had Doctor Strange cast a spell so nobody would remember me."
You held his face, urging him to continue.
"I saw how free your life became in the days after. You didn't have to watch your back for angry journalists or stay up late for me anymore."
The anger at yourself. You had fallen asleep again, and he needed you. You groggily reached for the first-aid kit.
He continued, “I wanted you to have a better life. I didn't want you in danger. But I didn't know about him; I swear I didn't! I would have come to you immediately. You never would have done this by yourself."
He reached back to your hands, holding them as if that would convince you. As if you needed convincing. You knew him... even if you didn't remember him.
"I need to know who you are." You began. "I can't keep living without knowing."
"You will know, I promise. I will find you. I don't want to risk association with me and Spider-Man. I will come find you soon."
It disappointed you to hear this. You had always pictured him running to you and immediately confessing his identity.
He turned his head back to James before you could process a response.
"He's so beautiful, baby. You did so well with him. I'm so sorry I wasn't here"
You both spent the next minutes or hours sitting like that, admiring your son.
A crime notification popped up and shook him out of it. He let out a frustrated sigh, leaning his head on yours, kissing your hair as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, I have to go. This is a big one."
You sniffed.
He looked you dead in the eyes with a determined, almost intimidating gaze. "I will come find you, I promise. We will do this right." A beat, "and I'll keep an eye on you both."
He pulled you in for a deeper hug than before, not quite how you both remember, but enough to sense change.
"I love you," just as he had before.
Weeks had been spent between then and now.
You had tried to find his face in every person around you. Bodega workers, taxi drivers, policemen...
But he said he would find you.
On a few occasions, you would find your favorite bag of chips sitting on your bed, gummy bears sitting on James'.
Though you would, in any other situation, be uneasy with a stranger finding their way into your apartment, he has immediately gained your trust. You had felt guilt not telling Lissie or Ty about this. You wondered if they would understand if they knew who he was.
He was late for Thanksgiving dinner. His aunt agreed to join your family's dinner this year. Aunt May! That was her name. Another step closer. Lissie even came home from college for it, too, a rarity during that time of year, when she was still in school. It was so exciting to have everyone together. Everyone but him. He finally barreled through the front door 30 minutes late, kissing May on the cheek and hugging Lissie...
They were close.
You were close to trying to trap him, just to talk to him. It had been so long; you were starting to wonder if this would be forever. Just waiting for him to leave presents on your bed.
After finally wrangling James into little sneakers, you were able to load him into the stroller and head out of the apartment building, leaving a note for Lissie and Ty that you were stocking up on preschool lunch items.
It couldn't be more normal on a day like today. New York had a slight overcast and a little breeze running between the buildings.
You still lingered your eyes on every man with brown, curly hair you passed. It had become a habit at this point. Eventually, you both reached the small store.
Milk, cheese, bread, snacks.
Your eyes ran between items, while James slept. He had been totally wiped out from an earlier tantrum over candy. Okay... found milk next aisle. You turned the corner, eyes catching a red masked vigilante.
"Hey... do you mind helping me with this? I feel pretty confident in math, but these elements are really giving me a hard time." Your eyes were low and batting eyelashes at him. He looked nervous. "Uhhh, yeah. Yeah! Of course!" You had been playing this game for months. You would tease him just enough to make him flustered. It always took him a second to finally flirt back. When would he finally ask you out?
An idea popped into your head. "Oh, hey Spidey." Your eyes only flickered on him for a second, then turned to the food in front of you, unsuccessfully holding back a smile that was creeping up your lips.
"Hey." An uncharacteristic certainty decorated his voice. You don't think the game ever went this way.
He turned his body toward the food, as well, pretending to inspect the groceries with the same determination you did.
"You come here often?", your voice said, echoing back to his ears like water in a desert.
"No, no. I followed a beautiful girl in here. I've been having a hard time reaching her."
"That's sweet, Spider-Man.", your hands picking up some grocery item, checking the label. As if you ever cared enough to do that.
His voice dropped to a whisper, and he leaned his head to the side, still facing the food. "Did'ya think I forgot about you?"
"I don't know, I think I'm entitled to a few more visits. Maybe a few kisses too. A date night with wine, maybe." A giggle was shared between the two of you.
"You just wait, love. I'm working on it." his head nodded with a twinge of embarrassment.
You moved the stroller around him and started walking around him. You missed this game. This was fun.
"Where are you going, miss?" Smiles crept up both of your faces, though you felt more vulnerable as the only unmasked one.
"Oh, I don't know... I have someone waiting at home for me."
"Oh yeah? Is this someone okay with you being walked home?"
"Hmm... I'm not too sure; are you equipped to talk to a very mysterious, physically distant guy?"
"I think I can manage that."
Your hair fell in front of your face, then was tucked behind your ear with your hand.
You were absolutely addictive.
After a mostly silent walk home, with a few pedestrians stopping and paying attention to the amazing Spider-Man, you reached the apartment building and spoke.
"This is us. Sorry our walk was so short."
His voice was significantly lower than before. "4 more days, I promise. I'll find you. We can do this the right way."
Despite the flirty game you had just been playing, you started to get choked up, small tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You didn't want to have to wait any longer.
"I know, honey. Please don't cry." He wanted so badly to reach out and touch you, but he didn't want to risk anything above a low whisper.
You sniffled, "Can I have a code word or something? So i know its you."
"Of course, sweet girl. Uhh, how about..."
"What was the first thing I said to you?" You interjected.
He took a second; you could tell he was smiling beneath the mask. "You asked what LEGO set Ned and I were working on. I'll ask you that when I find you."
you make real good money - so much your roomies plug! choso and emo! suguru have to wonder just what you do for work - but they don't try to pry. they sometimes (well, all the time) get stoned and have their theories though! Some crypto hacker, a sugar baby? You don't even leave the house yet you've always got packages, spoil them even, just what do you do for work?
pairings - plug!choso x camgirl!reader x emo!suguru
warnings - both of em have piercings, weed smoking reader is a cute lil camgirl, fingering, vidding it, oral (m and f receiving) p in v sex, creampies, cum swallowing, spitting - it's just filthy - not proofread - 3k
art is from @/einruji on x <3
Being roommates with the two biggest stoners at your university was certainly interesting, off campus was way more affordable and they so happened to have a room available when nerd Gojo ran off to live at the frat house with his twin. So why not ask you, the girl who's gotten kicked out of her ex boyfriend's across the street?
They're as chill as can be, Choso sells but he keeps it super discreet, the two of them are ridiculously clean, and fuck - Suguru cooks dinner half the days for you all. The three of you love to get stoned and cook the most ridiculous shit, laughing and ordering pizza when it turns out horrible - nothing like those shorts you all share with each other.
No, things are going good, and the fact that they're sexy as fuck and walk around shirtless? Well that just helps you with your career - you're not a musician like Suguru, not a dealer like Choso, no you're a little bit of a secret they can't figure out. You always have your rent on time, but they've never seen you go to work, all summer you've just been hanging out at the house.
Yet somehow you have brand new things arriving all the time, fuck you bought them each a new necklace - something about 'friendship matching' shit, you bought them new jackets, you have been constantly splurging on sushi nights and the finest liquor. You seem to have more money than both of them - and they're certainly not broke.
Just what do you do for work?
The curiosity finally gets them one weekend, Choso’s rolling party favors since they’re hitting a frat party, Suguru’s gonna play with his band there and they’re asking you to come with. It’s not like you don’t want to, it’s that you have your highest tippers tonight, and it’d be foolish not to make bank. You already have a hell of a savings from some of the same men who constantly send you things.
It’s your money that buys Cho and Sugu things though.
You have to admit, you keep getting fonder of them, it could be Suguru’s way of making sure you have your favorite white claw in the fridge, or Choso making sure he got that sativa strain for you. It could be that they’re gorgeous and they smell too damn good, or it could be you’re just ovulating and all sensitive tonight.
But fuck you want them, would it be so terrible to ask them to join? But at the same time, you don’t want them looking a certain way at what you do. They seem super chill but you get a little nervous any time they ask, unable to fully answer them, just sort of giggling and brushing it off.
Suguru’s cooking before they go, his long hair is thrown half up in a bun, the rest flowing down his bare skin, just a thin black wife beater with some band he loves and blood splatter designed trip pants. Choso’s got a baggier shirt, stark white over long black sleeves, his jeans littered with chains, pockets stuffed endlessly full of his growing collection of lighters.
For some reason he stole one from every party he went to – which was a lot.
Suguru’s got a pan of garlic butter shrimp sizzling on the stove, making your tummy growl, since Choso’s grinding some new, ridiculously loud strain he just got in, and he let you test it out – fuck it’s made you hungry, your eyes are so damn red you have to slop drops in. You’re sitting right on the island, crossing your legs and giggling as Suguru has to work around you.
“Always in my way and shit,” he teases, pinching your thigh, you yelp a bit and he tugs you down, hovering a little too close, your phone notifs rolling in nonstop, he faintly notices with a flick of his gaze, hands lingering on your waist.
“Sugu you got a date tonight? You always shave when you do,” you tease him right back, fingers brushing his chin – smooth from where he’d just shaved, you can smell that aftershave this close.
“No I don’t have a date,” he snatches your hand and looks curiously at your phone again, when the timer goes off. “Distracting me, I’ll burn it.”
“My apologies, chef,” Suguru rolls his eyes, you go sit over next to Choso at the little table, his eyes dart across the little robe you have tied around your waist – this pretty pink silk that hits mid thigh and hardly covers shit.
“Wanna try this edible?” You laugh and shake your head.
“No way, yours are too dangerous!”
“This is so yummy, just take a nibble,” he opens the little squares of chocolate, leaning closer and holding it toward your lips, black nailed fingers delicate as they swirl it around temptingly. “Ya know ya wanna.”
“I better not hallucinate or something,” he snorts and shakes his head, but falters when you open your mouth, tongue brushing his fingers as you bite the milky chocolate laced with thc, moaning and shutting your eyes.
Suguru and Choso both just fucking stare at you, as you swipe some of your thumb and suck on it, moaning.
“So yummy!” You look at the silent men curiously, Suguru’s timer goes off and it sort of breaks the spell, but not before both men have to go to their rooms and jerk it to you.
It was sort of a ritual, jerk it to their roommate, act like they didn’t – know they each did – and get jealous when you gave either of them the smallest bit more attention. A cycle of wanting to fuck their pretty roomate who dresses slutty, but never wanting to take it too far, leaving them hopeless and jerking it raw.
They could fuck other girls, but how could they really when you live here all fucking cute and ruining them?
“Shit that’s good stuff,” you’re giggling when they’re getting ready to leave for that party, each have slung a faded jean jacket on, smeared a little liner on their eyes, you’ll use it as gooning material for your cam session tonight.
“Alright, we’re heading out,” Suguru lets you hug him and kiss his cheek, trying to ignore the face he leaks pre from hugs now. “If you need something call us.”
“No, go have fun!”
“Lock up please?” Choso kisses your head, you smile and nod.
The front door clicks shut behind them, and you exhale just a bit – your own routine is to wait a good ten minutes, just to be safe, before you get ready, undoing your robe so just your very slutty lingerie clings to your body. You get into the mood to talk to all these men on your laptop, sorting your blanket and the endless plushes and pillows into a cute arrangement.
You spritz yourself with body spray but that really never made sense – not like the guys smell you, but you still love champagne toast, right along with that little matching candle you light. You have your leds on this pretty pink color, putting on your slutty playlist – yep, you have it titled ‘slutty playlist’ right on your spotify.
Camming was easy in a way, but it was also a bit of a mindset to tap into. Setting up the ringlight, touching up your makeup, all before positioning yourself on your bed just so, making sure the angle looks casual. Your laptop was open, the soft glow of the ring light illuminating your almost bare skin as the viewer count starts to climb.
The problem is, this time? You forget to fully shut your door – you figure they’ll be gone for hours anyway.
“Hey everyone,” they start throwing those tips on stream just to see a hint of your titties. “Aw, did you all miss me?”
*****
"Shit I forgot all my prerolls," Suguru rolls his eyes as he drives toward the party, Choso is checking his pockets that are just full of papers, lighters and empty baggies. "I had them all ready to be bought."
"You're a mess," Suguru yawns and turns the car around, Choso's grinning. "You're lucky we aren't that far."
"What do you think she does for a living, besides being hot?"
Suguru snorts, putting the car into gear and easing up on the clutch. "I figure she's some like, sugar baby? She's gorgeous and chronically online."
"Nah no way, I think she's like in crypto - maybe she's some secret scammer? Like... a hacker or some shit!"
Suguru rolls his pretty amethyst eyes as they near the apartment. "Yeah I doubt it. Fuck I think I did forget my fave guitar pik... I'll come up too."
The two of them try to be just a bit quiet in case you're asleep, you kinda went to your room decently early every night and played your favorite music. Nothing too loud - just enough that if you were right by your room you could hear, the same music is a little louder when they walk in, your door cracked.
"Mmm, where'd I leave em?" Choso tugs at his ponytails that are falling just so, looking around until he pauses, peeking right in your room like a fucking pervert.
You're fucking your pretty cunt with a glass dildo, and the thing is all glittery and pink - like your entire room. All arched on that plush rug, ass facing this bright heart shaped ring light, moaning softly as your cunt is so loud he hears her sucking it up.
Choso almost busts.
"Bro," Suguru scowls as he sees his friend, clearly invading their cute roomie's privacy, but he pauses right fucking behind Choso, his jaw dropped on the damn floor.
"Mnh! Hah I'm not squirting for just a hundred, gonna need way more than that," you tease, pulling the dildo out and turning, lapping your tongue along the ridged glass, tasting your own fucking cunt.
Suguru almost busts.
"Hehe," you're all giggly from the weed, tits out of that robe, just a little garter around your waist and some ripped stockings the only thing covering you. "Mmm, I do taste g-"
You look and see both your roommates staring at you, cocks visibly hard in their jeans, you gasp and slam your laptop shut, stumbling up and dropping the damn dildo, it rolls loudly on the hardwood floor.
"Fuck, shit, fuck," you curse now, waving your hands around and just making your tits bounce more. "I'm so sorry! I thought you all were like gone and... fuck I should've locked the door, please like... I'll find somewhere else to go, okay I-"
"Hey," Suguru barely manages to speak, clearing his throat and picking the dildo up in his hands, coated in your slick, he sets it on the dresser and walks toward you, where you're panicking. "You don't have to go somewhere, fuck, okay?"
"Y-you're sure?" You realize your tits are out then, your puffy pussy showing too, but it seems stupid to close your robe now, instead feeling their gaze drift. "I didn't mean to be... Choso, are you okay?"
"Mnh," Choso cums right in his jeans, cursing as the white liquid spurts all over, so much it leaks dark through the denim. "Fucking cumming, sh-shit..."
"Oh! Oh? Oh..." You blush now, as if you weren't just fucking yourself on cam, Suguru sighs and runs a hand down his face. "That's hot."
"What?" Both men ask that, you giggle now.
"It's sexy you came from just looking at me," you fiddle with your robe a bit, swallowing nervously. "I could clean it up."
"Wha-!?" Choso damn near runs to you, blitzed off his ass now, cupping your face with his big tattooed hands. "Fuck I'd do anything to feel your throat wrapping me."
"That's hot too," you giggle more when he moans and kisses you, Suguru staring in utter confusion, when you pull back and look right at him. "You both should join me, if you all want. We can keep your faces out of it?"
"Oh you wanna..." Suguru drifts off, clearing his throat and walking to you, turning you away from Choso who's needy as he ruts against the curve of your ass, Suguru's hands drifting down your pretty tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples.
"Mnh," you cry out, lashes fluttering. "I've had to fuck myself like every day since I moved here."
"I fuck my toy too," Choso murmurs against your neck, you look back and giggle again, before gasping out when Suguru's fingers find your messy cunt, swirling in your slick.
"If I do your video, I get to eat your pretty cunt out, and I get to cum inside it," you look up at him, all fucked up now.
"And I get to eat his cum out."
"Choso you slut," you whisper, but it's a needy little one - biting down on your lip and nodding then. "I'm down, I'll split the money too."
"We don't need that," Suguru sinks two fingers inside, moaning and curving them up. "Choso thought you were a hacker."
"Hah, what!?"
"He thought you were a sugar baby!"
"Well... sort of. Let me set this back up and..." You work on the stream, the two men's cocks flush and at attention as you kneel on your bed, Suguru behind you, Choso in front of you - and that's when you suck Choso's cum right off his pretty, veiny cock, lapping at that pink tip.
"Mnh," Choso's whimpering as you bob up and down him, while Suguru's on his knees with his face buried in your cunt. His tongue ring catches that soft spot in your gummy walls, before he's lapping at your clit in mean little flicks, spitting right on your hole.
"Arch," he murmurs, you do just that, moaning around Choso's already hard cock as you lap up the very last remnants of his messy white ropes - Suguru is fucking you with his fingers, curving them up over and over until you feel too much pressure.
The boys utterly forget you're on cam, and so do you. Choso, already sensitive from cumming once, he's just whimpering, needy mess, his hands tangled in your hair as you deepthroat him, fucking your throat till it's sore and raw, murmuring sweet apologies.
"S-sorry, jus' feel s'good b-baby," he's fucking harder with firm ruts of his cock, when Suguru leans up from making you squirt on his fingers, slipping them in Choso's mouth. His dark lips wrap Suguru's thick fingers, moaning, cheeks hollowing. "Oh f-fuck, you taste so sweet."
"Mmph," you can't talk, the edible making your body feel even more sensitive, when Suguru's cock slaps heavy against your ass, and his pierced tip drags right along your slit. You jolt and your eyes roll back in your skull when he sinks inside.
"This tight? Oh fuck, that toy didn't stretch you out, huh?" Suguru - usually so sweet - is mean with it, pinning your arms behind your back, throwing you off balance, while Choso holds you up by cupping your face, ramming his cock past your uvula.
"We'll stretch you out baby," Choso murmurs, his lips parted, eyes gone black with how fucked up he already is, how needy when those filthy sounds of your cunt getting fucked and your throat getting rammed fill your room.
You make a filthy amount that night, but you don't check until much later, not when Suguru is pounding your cunt and making you cum around his cock, barbell dragging right in your quivering little hole. When Choso's whispering good girl and Suguru's murmuring that you're a perfect fuck toy.
Suguru has you cumming so much you collapse, lips pulling off Choso with a messy pop, Choso spits right in your mouth - not the sweet little Cho you thought he was, not when he's smacking your cheek and pulling your hair into his fist.
Your thighs are trembling when Suguru busts his load inside you, bent over you from where he's fucked you down into your matress, your mascara making a mess of your pillows as your tears of overstim fall, gasping and drooling. At some point your ring light just fucking falls, and the laptop gets shut by Suguru.
"My turn," Choso murmurs when he spreads your thighs, laying you on your back and shoving them against you, just to scoop all Suguru's milky release on his tongue. Suguru's kissing you all messy and mean, rutting his cock on the mattress, watching his best friend drink him out of your hole. "Fuck you took so much cum, can you take more?"
"Mhm," you're nodding all cute, letting Choso put another load inside you, until so much is pouring from your abused hole you're sticky, they both play in it, fingering it back inside until you're squirting all down their knuckles.
Later - much later - you three are smoking weed in your bed, they've cleaned you all up with their tongues, both having their own roll lit up, the three of you dizzy and high.
"So, you two wanna cam now?" You tease, inhaling the blunt from Choso's fingers as Suguru brushes your hair back, damp from the little shower they took with you.
"You think we should?" Choso asks, you pull up your phone, coughing out smoke and showing him the number. "Oh fuck..."
Choso's kissing up your neck when you peer at Suguru. "What do you think, hmm Sugu?"
"Well," he blows smoke in your mouth, letting you inhale, hands drifting down your body. "I do love small business."
𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 higuruma letting you take out your frustration on him. mdni.
The late afternoon light filtered through the half-closed blinds of Hiromi Higuruma’s modest law office, casting long stripes across the cluttered desk. Stacks of paperwork, divorce decrees, and financial disclosures sat in neat but weary piles. The air smelled faintly of old books, coffee, and the faint trace of his cologne—something woody and understated, like the man himself.
You were already straddling him in his worn leather office chair, skirt hiked up around your hips, panties long since discarded on the floor beside his polished shoes. Hiromi’s slacks were open just enough, his cock buried deep inside your slick, aching heat as you sank down onto him with a slow, deliberate roll of your hips. He let out a quiet, controlled exhale through his nose, one hand resting on your waist while the other held a pen and continued flipping through the final settlement documents.
“Keep going,” he murmured, voice low and steady, eyes scanning the page in front of him even as you began to bounce. “Tell me everything. Don’t hold back.”
You braced your hands on his shoulders, thighs flexing as you lifted and dropped yourself onto his thick length. The wet sound of your pussy sliding up and down his cock filled the quiet office, obscene against the soft rustle of paper.
“He never touched me like this,” you gasped, rolling your hips in a filthy circle that made his cock nudge against that perfect spot inside you. “Six years of marriage and it was like… like I was just there. Convenient. He’d finish in two minutes and roll over like I was nothing.”
Hiromi hummed, almost thoughtfully, turning a page with his free hand. His cock twitched inside you, but his expression remained composed—those sharp, tired eyes focused on the legalese even while your slick juices coated his shaft and dripped down onto his balls. “Unacceptable,” he said calmly. “A partner should attend to their spouse’s needs. Thoroughly.”
You moaned louder, bouncing harder. The chair creaked beneath you both as you fucked yourself on him, breasts straining against your blouse. Each downward thrust sent pleasure sparking up your spine, frustration and relief twisting together.
“Every night I’d lie there… so fucking wet, so desperate,” you continued, breath hitching. “And he’d say he was tired. Or that I was too much. Too demanding.” Your nails dug into his suit jacket as you rode him faster, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. “I wanted to be fucked. I wanted to feel wanted. Not like some… obligation.”
Hiromi’s grip on your waist tightened, guiding you just a little deeper on the next bounce. A faint flush had crept up his neck, but he still managed to circle a clause on the document with his pen. “And now you’re free of that,” he said, voice rougher around the edges. “No more half-measures. Take what you need from me, as many times as you want.”
You whimpered, grinding down hard so his cock pressed right against your cervix, clit rubbing against his pelvis with every frantic movement. The tension of the divorce, the years of neglect, the cold bed—it all poured out of you in a flood of words and moans as you chased your pleasure on his lap.
“I’m so tired of being patient,” you panted, riding him like you’d been starved for it. “I want to be selfish. I want to cum until I can’t think.”
“Then do it,” Higuruma replied, finally setting the pen down so both hands could grip your ass, helping you bounce faster. His dark eyes met yours for the first time in minutes, intense and unblinking. “Use me. I can handle it. I can handle all of it.”
Your walls clenched tight around him as the orgasm built, hot and vicious. You slammed down onto his cock again and again, recounting every slight, every lonely night, every unsatisfying encounter—until the words dissolved into broken cries. Pleasure crashed over you hard, your pussy pulsing and gushing around his length as you came with a shuddering moan.
Hiromi groaned softly, burying his face against your neck as he held you down on him through it, letting you milk every last throb from his cock. The paperwork lay forgotten on the desk now, slightly rumpled from the motion.
When you finally caught your breath, still seated on him, he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss just below your ear. “Sign here when you’re ready,” he murmured, voice husky. “And if you need another… session to work through the rest of that frustration, my schedule is open for you.” His cock, still hard and twitching inside your sensitive cunt, made it very clear he meant every word.
sukuna knows women. he knows how to please them. how to make them moan, whine, cry. but knowing how to please a woman doesn’t mean he knows women. aka a woman’s cycle. in simple terms, sukuna has mainly grown up with men, his gramps, his brothers, toji — all he knows is a girl has a period, but he has never bothered to stay with a girl long enough to actually address her period.
well until his fuck buddy, you, open your door for him.
his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you towards his chest, lips locking with yours in moments. “Mmm,” he groans, tongue pushing past your lips, just to feel you press a hand to his chest. your lips break, air filling his lungs in disdain, eyes narrowing at you for pushing him away.
“you didn’t text me, dude,” you say, letting him pull away to drop his backbag on the floor, plastic bag in hand as he kicks his shoes off.
“got outta the gym late. lost track of time,” he walks two steps to the kitchen pulling out two energy drinks, a protein drink, and a couple protein bars. “fuck,” he cups his crotch, palming himself through his low hanging sweats. he opens his shake. “accidentally swiped on that video ya’ sent me from the summer. I watched the whole thing between my sets.” his hand tips back, throat bopping as he chugs the shake, eyes closing as he sees the video play back in his mind, hand still on his bulge.
you’re leaning against the column between your smaller than small living room and kitchen, eyeing the way he’s shamelessly groping himself in front of you, men. you sigh, internally.
“hey,” he suddenly appears in front of you, towering. his musky scent fills your nose as he cups your neck, the other resting on your hip. he slowly lowers himself, tilting your chin up with a thumb as his lips connect with yours again. “haah,” he sighs, kissing your lips like it’s his saving grace, his sweats hang low on his hips as he presses himself against you. “remember that video?” he husks, “the one with ya’ spreading your legs out for the camera—“
you gently press a hand to his chest again, cheeks flushed, but stomach churning uncomfortably. “ryo—“
“wanna see this pussy,” he doesn’t even hesitate, he drops his head to your neck, kissing the exposed skin before dropping to a knee, hands on your hips. “wanna smell how good she is—“
“ryo,” you press a hand to his forehead, face aflame, as you push him back. your heart hammers as he frowns up at you, jaw tight and hands tightening around your waist. “I got my period yesterday.”
….
a silent beat passes.
then.
FUCK!
sukuna is horrible at controlling his face.
you immediately notice his dilated pupils dissipate, and the excitement die behind his eyes. your lips purse, making a my bad king type of face. but sukuna looks absolutely destroyed, his head drops forward, desperately trying to control his eye roll, but you catch it , along with the way he presses his face into your stomach, and groans. loud. uncontrolled.
“sorry…I forgot to text you, and you came all the way here,” you pat his shoulder apologetically, though you’re not super sympathetic since it’s not your fault.
“ya’ have cramps or some shit?” he grumbles against your sleep shirt.
“had crazy cramps this morning, but just like…not in the mood right now,” you cringe while saying it, but sukuna just sighs.
you bite your cheek as you watch him sit back on his heels. his black sweats straining against his thighs, his bulge shameless as it presses up against the material. your eyes flick over him again, wetting your lip as you reach for his hair. hesitant. but eventually…your manicured nails run through the slightly damp, salmon colored hair. you watch in silent awe as his lashes weigh down, and his jaw tightens like he’s holding himself back. your nails scratch his scalp, lightly, but enough to elect a raw groan from the back of his throat.
you bite your lip, eyeing the dark flush crawling up his neck, and dusting his cheeks a light pink. his large palm rests on your outer thigh and the other flexing as it grips his erection. how far will he—
“not cumming in my fucking sweats,” he suddenly barks, getting to his feet. your hand drops as he walks towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head, he kicks the door shut behind him.
your lips purse again, biting your cheek as you hear the shower turn on. men.
that was how sukuna dealt with his fuck buddy being on her period. somehow always finding out last minute that you’re bleeding, and in no mood for action — except for those very rare occasions, well he can’t divulge too much now since you never want him to mention it again — and he’s forced to take care of his problem in your shower. his rough calloused palm — a contrast from your soft smaller ones — jerks his painfully hard throbbing cock to the images of you floating in his mind until he’s finally shooting his thick white load all over your shower wall. haze clearing up as he watches the cum slide down. and then he’ll step out of the bathroom, usually wearing a pair of sweats he’d forgotten here, along with a plain black tee, and crash on the couch as you do your homework. he’ll eye you a bit, but eventually shift his attention to the tv and knockout.
it would be difficult for those five to seven days, especially when you would be slightly more clipped with him, or just plain bitchy and short tempered (like him). but it’d get him all hot and bothered, especially since he can’t act on it.
that was sukuna’s perception of a woman’s cycle. before he never cared, now he cares just a little more because he can’t have sex with you when you’re on your period.
but as smart as sukuna is, it takes a little more brain power for him to realize what this is.
this being, how he’s wound up because he’s trying to get through this studying for an upcoming exam. he’s far from prepared for and the best way for him to study is to be around someone who takes it seriously— you. and yet…
you won’t stop moving!
at first you were sitting across from him in the library. then you shift to the seat at corner of the table, and then you move to sit directly beside him.
“you need help?” he suddenly cuts. you’re shifting beside him stops, brows pulled in confusion.
“was just uncomfortable, am i disturbing you?”
his brow twitches, but you were completely innocent. your brow pulled up, like he’s the crazy one, and not you, who’s moved around like ten times in the last hour!!
“just a little,” he mutters, putting his headphones back on and turning back to his work. luckily, you seem to have settled down, attention back on your own studies. engrossed in your review sheets and notes, as sukuna reviews for his own exam.
however, what the fratboy did notice was even when shoko stopped bye to chat, and utahime came to whisper some gossip to you between her class, you didn’t move once. his brow quirked briefly when utahime chatted across the table, and instead of getting up and going to the hallway to talk freely, you remain seated, right beside him, and right against him.
what’s going on?
“I swear I told the girl I didn’t even know who she was talking about it—but she didn’t even care. girl! I wasn’t talking to your ex,” utahime rambles in hushed whispers, similar to the whispered conversations at other tables.
your brows furrow in shock, “what the hell?? why the heck is she even confronting you in the middle of class though? that’s so weird.”
“that’s what I’m sayinggg!!!”
sukuna has every reason to snap at you both right now. to tell you two to shut the fuck up or go outside. seriously, it was distracting as fuck. but his mind was short circuiting and stumbling around all because of how fucking close you are to him.
his arms are leaning over the table, biceps bulging from his tshirt, scribbling practice equations and notes. and you’re leaning over in an identical position, but your side is fully pressed against his arm. your zip up hoodie resting around your hips after you’d shrugged it off, and your usual cold skin was searing hot against his. skin to skin. and it’s been like that for the past twenty minutes.
usually when your friends stop by to ramble, you have the courtesy to step away so he can study. but not this time— well you did a similar thing a month ago too. sticking to him like glue. brushing your fingers over the veins of his forearm—
“okay, I’ll update you later, but thanks for letting me borrow your airpods!” utahime concludes her rant with finally returning your airpods and running off to her next class. sukuna lets out an air of relief, relaxing beside you.
finally, some peace and quiet in the library.
…shift…
well, it could only last so long.
his brows furrow as he glances over at you, your cheek is now resting on his arm, mindlessly reading your notes like this is normal. is it because he’s finally anxious about an exam after so long, that he’s noticing how touchy you’re being? or maybe you’re not in the mood to do your work and in the mood for something else—
tch, he doesn’t have time to find some room to fuck you in though. it’s the middle of the day and the library is packed. the last thing you’d want is for someone to see you both. however, he can’t even tell if you want any action right now. it just looks like you’re tired…and clingy…?
sukuna exhales, thumb pressing against his jaw in thought, while you shift again, oblivious to his internal turmoil, cheek smushed against his arm…
“you hungry?” he interrupts, desperate for his mind to quiet down.
“not really,” you mutter, focused on your homework.
his lips downturn, pen tapping the desk, “I’m gonna grab another celsius.” he suddenly stands, startling you for a moment, noticing the way your pretty lashes blink in surprise. you’re definitely just focused on school…but last month you were acting the same-ish…if he’s right, then when he comes back…you’ll…
he places a celsius in front of you, eyes flicking over you as he sips his drink. you hum in distracted appreciation, like you can’t even see him sliding back into his seat, legs spread, and arms coming up back to the table to grab his pen. but like glue, you’re sliding yourself right beside him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking a subtle inhale.
what the hell?!? it’s like he can predict you’re every move now?!
it doesn’t stop there. the puzzle pieces are starting to come together slowly. especially when you subtly kept a grip on his arm muttering how he can finish studying at your place, without the distraction of the frat—which you rarely pressure him to do a night before an exam. except instead of going straight to the bathroom to shower, you followed him to your couch and sat beside him.
“do you mind if I turn on the tv?” you ask with such an unnerving amount of gentleness, glancing at him with your full undivided attention.
his brow quirks, why’re you looking at him like that? “it’s your place, woman.”
you hum, relaxing back, albeit pressed to his side and your knees tucked up, as he leans over on the coffee table (aka your only desk in your small ass apartment) reviewing more work. but just moments later he’s sliding to the floor for more comfortability—
“why’d you move?” your voice cuts through the quiet apartment.
“huh?”
sukuna glances back, brow quirked with confusion at the frown you’re wearing. “leaning over is fucking with my back,” he tsks, earning him an uncharacteristically quick attitude switch from you — your eyes roll, your entire body slumps further back on the couch that you’re basically laying across it, and your cute bottom lip juts out in an irritated, subtle pout. seriously? sukuna scoffs internally. you’re acting like such a brat??? for real this time.
your cheeks press against the cushion. your hypnotizing eyes flick between his, then eventually settle on his lips. they’re slightly chapped, pink…pretty…kissable…
“ya need something?” he snaps without any bite. you’re zoning out again. your eyes drift off, and your lips part lost in thought. “zoning out—“ are the words you hear before you feel an aggressive (light in his mind) flick to your forehead. “again!”
“ow!” you groan loud, face quickly turning and pressing into the cushion in annoyance. “what the hell!” your muffled yell barely comes out.
“what the hell me?” he tsks, rough hand landing on your head, and turning your face back for air. “I was talking and you did that shit again—“
“what thing?!” you scoff, brows pinched in anger as you stare into his eyes….his deep…dark…lidded…crimson eyes…..haah—
“that,” he exhales, hand softening on your temple, and irritation slipping away with your usual antics. “how do you even zone out that fast?”
your glossy lips part, manicured nail brushing your bottom lip, heat pooling between your legs, and eyes half lidded… “was thinking about your eyes.”
the softness of your tone was more shocking than the actual words that came out of your mouth. or it’s the combination of both. or the bluntness of your gentle honey sweet voice that took sukuna by surprise…
but he blinked.
“first it was your lips,” you whisper with a breathless sigh. your finger carefully reaching out and touching his lips. you mimic the way he parts his lips with your own. his thick brows creating a shadow over his lidded eyes. “then your eyes.” you explain with such clarity, it had sukuna short circuiting as he tries to rationalize why you’re acting this way—
“that’s why i zoned out,” you conclude, shifting closer to the edge of the couch, closer to him. your eyes dot up at him, brushing his bottom lip, pulling it down with a thumb. “you distract me sometimes.” you’re tired…it was a long day of classes and it was the middle of the week. that has to be the reason, sukuna thinks.
by now, he knows that look.
you wanna fuck.
“Mmm,” you whine the moment he presses his lips to yours. your tongue immediately finding his as your nails course through his hair. tugging. “make me cum, ryo.”
he snorts in your mouth, rough hand pushing your shirt up, thumbing your bra before hooking his thumb under and lifting up. “should’ve just told me ya want your pussy wet—“
“it’s already wet,” you cut, “been wet all day.”
shiit, he groans into your lips, pushing his hand down, past your waistband. “fucking slut.” a breathy gasp slips out as he cups your wet sticky pussy. “fucking drenched, dirty brat.” his teeth sink into your bottom lip as you whine louder, unaware how sukuna’s neck is unbelievably red. why do you taste sweeter?
“Mmm lift your hips up,” he husks. you don’t get the chance to react when he’s suddenly yanking your pants and drenched panties off. “spread ‘em.”
your tongue pokes your bottom lip, opening your legs for your fuck buddy. his huge palms press against your thighs, grabbing fistfuls and licking his bottom lip as your sticky pussy comes into view. his pupils dilate as he watches your hole twitch. and your scent immediately hits his nose. “you’re gonna taste so good today.” he mutters to himself, but your brow lifts.
“what’s different about today?”
he leans forward, eyes flicking up as he exhales. is he drunk? his eyes roll back, cock throbbing in his pants and he inhales again—fuuck, you smell so much sweeter, “nothin.” his tongue shuts you right up as he licks a long wet lewd strip up your folds. your back immediately arches off the couch, nails digging into his scalp as his beefy arms lock around your thighs, moaning. your sweet honey floods his taste buds…this pussy has always hypnotized him, aroma consuming him and taste intoxicating him…but now that he thinks about…this small little difference in taste and scent, a bit sweeter, happened last month—
“ryo—haah ah mmh ya like my pussy?” your eyes flutter as you keep them on sukuna’s flushed face.
his eyes roll back, completely falling apart between your thighs as he groans a deep husky, “fuck yeah.”
your stomach burns hot at his voice, and voice pitching higher as his tongue delves inside your hole. “haaaah—your mouth is so good, baby—ngh been wet all day,” you confess in your pleasure. “was staring at your hands all day, ryo—they’re so big…l-like your di—ahh—“ fuck you’re talking a lot, sukuna groans, annoyed how worked up your voice is getting him.
his tongue laps and sucks, his salvia creating an even bigger mess. he pulls away, cheeks dusted a deep red as he spits directly onto your puffy clit, pupils dilating as he spreads the mess all over your swollen clit. “these hands,” he runs his calloused palm over your lower stomach. your pupils grow black with lust. pupils blown as you stare at the way his hand encompasses the entire surface. his crimson irises dilate once he sees the lust all over your face. “want them inside ya?”
you nod, immediately.
he doesn’t wait.
two long, thick fingers push past the initial tightness, feeling the gummy walls of your pussy hug his digits with delight. your jaw falls slack, drool slipping as he leans down to plant wet kisses along your lower stomach, forearms and biceps flexing as he pistons his fingers in n out. the squelching fills his ears as you moan above him.
“ngh! fuh ryo, feels good, kiss—kiss me down there—“ you push his head down until his lips connect with your clit again, sucking. rough. mean. teeth sinking just hard enough to make your eyes water and a choked cry slip your lips. “ryo,” you mewl with such lewd sweetness that this huge 6’5 hunk is practically moaning in response. “ry—my pussy—ahh gun —mmm c-close—gun cum—“
but sukuna has already lost all sanity with how good your slick tastes. his eyes roll back pushing you over the edge. “mmm fuck!” you cry, lashes wet as they flutter from the pleasure coursing out of you. his throat bops swallowing and lapping your sweet slick like it’s a drug — which it might as well be with the way his cock is throbbing in his boxers just from eating his fuck buddy’s sweet pussy. “taste like fucking honey,” he groans, cleaning you up like a dog. he pants, catching his breath as he climbs up to your lips like a starved animal. he smashes his lips against you, kissing your spit slicked lips with a loud groan. how do your lips taste sweet too?
“gonna be a good brat and let me fuck this tight pussy?” He grunts, unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down along with his boxers, freeing his painfully erect cock.
your tongues collide, dumb whine coming from the back of your throat, and hands running up and locking around his neck. “f’course.”
fucking you rough and fast on the couch as you babbled like a dumb slut, drunk on his cock, had him seeing stars. he was desperately trying to figure out how you're handling him with how uncharacteristically rough he’s being, but you haven’t told him to stop.
"ry—aa-haah!"
shit. he'd flipped you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips , ass in the air as he slams his thick throbbing cock in from behind. his rough palm is pressed into your lower back keeping you in that deep arch he loves, and hand cracking the nth spank to your sore ass. "feel good?"
"so good ryo—wanna cum again -cum-ngh haah please please-"
unbelievable.
and it’s not until he’s panting on the couch, your limp body resting across it, completely and utterly spent, does he realize just how rough he was being. his jaw tenses, as the fog clears up.
“hey…” his voice treads lightly, cautious as he turns on the couch, glancing at your resting form. your shirt covers your breasts after he finally came and let you lay back on the couch. but his spend leaks out of your abused hole, and your ass is still burning from his mean spanks. “hey…” he leans over you, hand brushing your waist. grounding. “you okay?”
he watches carefully as you turn on your side, eyes heavy as you blink up at him. “yeah…you okay?”
“you okay with how we fucked?”
you don’t blink, “yeah.”
yeah, somethings up. he was rough, even he knows that much. and you took it well. more than well, you were begging for me.
all of those should’ve been signs. the closeness, the slight sweetness spike in your slick and saliva. how unbelievably heavenly you smell, all the time. how you didn’t mind how rough he was. but the cherry on top was the party friday.
the frat is lit up like a damn fever dream. neon strips line the railings, glow paint smeared across walls and skin, bass from the dj bleeding through the floors as the pool outside shimmers under colored lights. it’s packed, but not suffocating. invite-only for once. people actually have room to breathe, but it was mainly because they didn’t want any complaints so early in the semester.
sukuna is sat back on the patio couch, shirtless, skin still damp from the heat, a thin sheen of sweat catching the lights every time he moves, tattoos flexing over his well defined muscles. gojo was loud beside him, geto half-listening while scrolling on his phone, a couple other guys scattered around with some girls mingling between them. but sukuna isn’t paying attention to any of it.
he has a drink in his hand, untouched. his eyes keep drifting. back to you. somewhere near the edge of the pool, laughing at something utahime is saying, glowing under the neon lights. your bikini hugged your tits so well he’d pop a boner if he stares too hard. the droplets run down your soft skin, as he sees you fix your necklace as you say something to your friend.
he clicks his tongue, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “you ever notice they act different sometimes?” he mutters, low enough that it doesn’t carry past the music.
nanami, sitting beside him in swim shorts, thick legs spread open for all to eye and an open button up putting his defined abs on full display, along with the sneaky patch of blonde hair peaking out of his waistband, doesn’t even look up from his phone. “that’s a very broad statement.”
sukuna exhales through his nose. “nah, like—” he pauses, frowning slightly, like he’s trying to piece a puzzle together. “it’s not random.”
nanami studies him for a second, then follows his line of sight, and finds you immediately. is he starting to realize his feelings for you?— “not random how?”
sukuna tilts his head, “just… different. clingier. or—” he gestures vaguely with his drink. “more into it.”
nanami raises a brow. “into what.”
sukuna gives him a look like don’t be fucking stupid.
nanami hums, finally catching on, taking a slow sip. “you’re asking if there’s a pattern to women’s behavior.”
“i’m saying there is one,” sukuna mutters aggressively. “i just don’t know what the hell it is.”
“you know,” nanami says calmly, “they have cycles.”
there’s a beat. then sukuna leans back, jaw ticking slightly, still watching you. “yeah I fucking know that,” he mutters. “It’s annoying.”
nanami glances at him again, lost. “what is.”
sukuna doesn’t answer right away. just takes another sip, eyes narrowing faintly. “the way it’s not consistent.”
nanami huffs quietly, amused now . “if you’re starting to notice now then it is consistent.”
sukuna side-eyes him. nanami is no better than gojo or geto, he’s just more subtle about his innuendos. “I’m not noticing shit—“
nanami shrugs, setting his glass down. unaware that gojo and geto have agreed on teams.
“okay! water volleyball!” gojo’s voice cuts clean through the bass, already halfway to the pool as he grins like he’s been waiting for this all night. a cheer ripples through the patio. of course it does. a house full of athletes, half-naked, girls in bikinis, a competition handed to them on a silver platter? yeah, they’re moving before the rules are even explained.
geto stretches his arms above his head as he stands, “hey,” he shouts loud enough for the frat president t to hear him, “try not to break anyone’s teeth this time!”
gojo laughs, already hopping to his side of the pool because obviously he’s one of the captains. “no promises.”
sukuna’s already up, taking the second captain title and just like that — whatever train of thought he was stuck on snaps clean in half. gone. replaced with something sharper, more familiar. his shoulders roll once, loose, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the space, the people already splitting into sides. his team or gojo’s team. they’re always on opposite teams. it makes it more fun.
“don’t get in my way,” he tosses to gojo as he steps around to his end of the pool, his hand brushing his stomach as he cracks his neck.
“you wish,” gojo shoots back.
people start gathering, some hanging back to watch, others eager, slipping into the water, calling out sides, laughing as they pick teams. a younger pledge scrambles to the middle, already trying to take control after geto shoves him in, to the play referee, whistle in hand like this is some official match.
and of course, even as chaos takes over the yard. your eyes find him. instinctive, something in you locks in and refuses to look anywhere else.
sukuna stands at the edge, skin still glistening under the neon, muscles flexing lazily as he stretches his arm over his head. his back, his shoulders, the deep v- line that has your eyes following down to the tuft of light hair peaking out waistband. the same one you always find yourself caressing during foreplay— it’s too much. it’s always too much, but tonight it sits heavier in your chest, lower in your stomach, something warm and insistent that doesn’t let up between your legs.
your clit throbs.
“wait—” utahime grabs your wrist, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. “you hate this stuff.”
you don’t even look at her. “it’ll be fun,” you murmur, already pulling away. and then you’re moving. slipping from your seat on the edge of the pool and jumping in.
the water hits cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat that’s been building under it. you swim to sukuna’s side, breath catching slightly as you orient yourself to the chaos around you, because normally, usually, a crowded sweaty pool was something you’d avoid, but—he’s already looking at you. your thighs press together.
his eyes are not casual, not passing, he’s looking. his gaze drops first. slow and deliberate, catching the faint mark on your neck, the one he left last night, barely visible under the colored lights. his jaw ticks. then lower, just for a second, the way your body shifts in the water, the ripple of movement as you steady yourself, the rise and fall of your breasts threatening to spill out. the water calmly rocks underneath them. then his gaze shifts back to your face, and you’re still staring at him. you’re not even trying to hide it.
something about that makes his brow twitch.
because you’re not looking away. not when he meets your eyes. not when the noise around you spikes, not when someone splashes too close. your focus stays locked on him—heavy, almost… expectant.
it lingers a second too long. then—
“teams set!” the pledge yells, blowing the whistle way too aggressively. “first to ten wins— oh and no cheap shots—“ he glances around before catching geto lounged on the other side of the pool, some girl already pressed against his arm. “OH! no punches or choking too!”
“shut up and start it,” gojo calls from the other side, already grinning, bouncing lightly in the water.
sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off you for another beat. then he exhales through his nose, turning slightly, shoulders squaring as the ball is tossed into play and he’s in the pool.
the game starts rough. the second the ball is tossed, two guys are already lunging for it. water splashing high, bodies colliding mid-air before someone spikes it hard across the pool. girls move out of the way, squealing as huge men fight. a chorus of shouts erupts from the sidelines, music still blasting behind it, neon lights flickers over wet skin and moving bodies.
gojo, the ever responsible fraternity president, grins like a man possessed on the other side. sukuna, the very responsible vice president, is barking like a mad man.
and of course, the competitive idiots fall into rhythm with each other. fast, aggressive, locked in, and every hit gets harder, a slightly more violent. every return is sharper and people start gathering closer to the edge, phones out, recording, yelling their names like it’s a real match instead of a stupid drunk frat game.
“c’mon, kuna!” someone shouts.
“gojo! spike that shit!”
water slaps against the tile as everything moves fast. bodies move out of the way so they’re not hit by the aggressive spikes from the frat hosts, but they still refuse to leave the pool because it’s fun.
and then the ball comes your way. your eyes widen, barely able to think, so you just react. your hands come up, fingers pushing against it just right, and somehow, you’re sending it up in a clean arc, right to him.
sukuna moves instantly….he jumps, sculpted body cutting through the air, arm pulling back before he slams the ball down with violent force, sending it crashing into gojo’s side of the pool.
a winning point. a cheer explodes. sukuna lands, water dripping down his shoulders, then he glances at you. his canines are on display, as his deep voice cuts through the chaos to say, “good girl.” it’s low, automatic, and it slips out without thought, just like how he’d praise you when you’re alone, and his voice is raspy as he whispers it in your ear, cock usually deep in your guts as he gives you another mean thrust that you take with pride, pussy clamping when he bottoms.
something fast, hot, and dizzying rushes through you. your chest tightens, skin buzzing as your breath stutters for a second. your thighs press together instinctively under the water, pulse kicking up in a way that feels almost overwhelming. and from that moment on, you stick to him. you try to chase the ball for him, pushing it back into his reach every chance you get, doing your best to avoid the large men playing the game. but your focus narrows, locked in on your hot fuck buddy like nothing else exists. every movement feels sharper, more urgent, your body reacting before your brain can catch up.
on the sidelines, people notice. how can they not? most of the girls “playing” cling to the perimeter. and then there’s you, being an idiot, but a very hot one, throwing yourself in the middle. your bikini clings tight from the water, fabric hugging every curve, shifting every time you jump or twist. a few guys on the edge of the pool don’t even bother pretending they’re watching the game anymore. their eyes track you instead, murmurs passing between them. someone whistles when you jump to set the ball, breasts bouncing freely in the flimsy bikini top, your nipples hard underneath as water cascades like some playboy ad.
but sukuna, is too locked in the game to notice.
the first round ends with his team winning, and the second starts almost immediately, louder than before. people are picking sides now, chanting, recording, some still dancing on the grass behind them, focused on the dj, drinks sloshing as the party refuses to slow down around the chaos of the pool’s game.
you’re still right there again when it starts. you doubt you’re even playing anymore, but you want to see him, watch him jump high and spike the ball. watch the ink on his back ripple with his muscles. the same defined lines that you caress at night, and hug—
your attention is so narrowed, that you don’t even notice the guy at first. bodies are moving, all a blur that you don’t focus on another body moving behind you. until it’s too near, too familiar for someone you don’t know. then, a hand brushes your bare side under the water, lingering just a second too long making your blood run cold.
your eyes snap wide. “what the fuck!” you twist instantly, shoving him off hard, water splashing between you as your stomach turns. only a few people notice, the rest too consumed by the game until you’re moving straight towards a certain captain.
“THAT’S A FUCKING FOUL GOJO—what the—“
your arms wrap around him from behind without hesitation, pressing into him, chest flush against his back as you cling to one familiar form. tight, and instinctive.
it catches him off guard, just for a second. his body tenses slightly under your grip. his muscular arms lift, head turning halfway to see, “who the fuck—“ grabbed him in the middle of game! but then he sees you. and his eyes glance down at your familiar hands holding his chest. your name slips out of his lips, confused what you’re doing, but then the ball’s already back in play. and somehow he keeps going.
even with you wrapped around him, weight clinging to his back, he still moves, still blocks, still lands a hit that sends the ball flying back over the net. it’s messy now, uneven, but he’s too competitive to stop, jaw tight, focus split but still sharp. water splashes everywhere. people are yelling. gojo laughs from the other side. “what the hell is that— you got a handicap now?”
sukuna clicks his tongue, annoyed, shifting slightly to keep his balance with you still latched onto him. you don’t let go. not once. “you drunk?” he tries to talk to you mid-game.
“yeah,” you mutter over the music. but as more people fill the pool, and the third round feels much more chaotic, sukuna begins to notice. your grip tightens every time someone gets too close, every time someone accidentally touches you, every time your head spins just a little from the alcohol and the heat and everything. your cheek presses against his back, breath uneven, body still buzzing in a way you don’t fully understand, other than the fact that you can feel how hot it is between your legs. he smells so good…
the game drags on— until finally— gojo’s team takes the last point. a loud cheer erupts from his side, people splashing into the pool, celebrating, phones still up capturing everything.“told you,” gojo grins, pushing his wet snowy hair back, muscles flexing for the cameras as he sticks his tongue out.
sukuna exhales sharply through his nose, annoyed, shoulders tense— he doesn’t shake you off. but unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance.
you’re suddenly ripped away.
“wha—! what the fuck!” you yelp as a pair of hands grab you from underneath, a drunk junior dunking under the water before popping up with you lifted high onto his shoulders. just for the crowd to erupt.
“OH SHIT— chicken fight!”
“LET’S GO!”
“get her, get her!” other guys in the pool dunk under and lift a few laughing girls up. but you’re not one of them. your thighs clamp instinctively around the stranger’s head just to keep from slipping, heart racing, balance completely shot as water drips down your legs and chest. your hands fly to his hair, trying to steady yourself, panic flashing across your face. you didn’t agree to this. your eyes lock with sukuna immediately. wide. confused. he’s not your boyfriend— but he’s still…
something in him snaps. he straightens, fast. too fast. the playful edge from seconds ago gone completely, replaced with something sharp and violent, jaw tightening as his eyes drag over the way the guy’s hands are gripping your thighs— and the whistles from the crowd don’t help, especially when your hand reaches to adjust the way your bikini top had shifted.
“damn!”
sukuna’s fist curls. “get your fucking hands off her,” he bites out, already moving forward through the water, splashing hard as he closes the distance.
the guy just laughs, drunk, clueless and not listening. “relax, man, it’s just a chicken fight. ever heard of those?”
he doesn’t get to finish. sukuna’s already pulling his arm back, when you squeak.
“wait—!” you gasp, trying to shift your weight, panic spiking as the situation spirals way too fast—but before anything can land another pair of bodies crash into you. a second drunk chicken fight slams into your side, bodies colliding, completely losing balance. and then everything goes under. water rushes over your head in a blur of limbs and noise, the guy beneath you losing his footing as you both go down. you barely have time to register it before a hand grabs you. hard.
sukuna’s arm wraps tight around your waist, yanking you up and out of the water in one sharp motion. you cough, sputtering slightly, fingers clutching onto him as he steadies you against his side. he doesn’t even look at you at first. he’s glaring past you.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?!” he snaps, voice low and dangerous, water dripping from his hair as he stares down the guy who just broke the surface, coughing. “you fucking grab girls without permission and I’m fucking snapping your arm in half!”
the junior lifts his hands, half-laughing, half-defensive. “yo, chill— it’s just a game—”
“i said don’t touch her,” sukuna cuts in, sharper this time, stepping forward like he’s ready to swing anyway.
the energy shifts instantly. people nearby start stepping in, hands coming up.
“aye, chill, chill—” one tries to come between them. sukuna doesn’t even notice that you’d managed to slip from his grip, still coughing as you swim to the steps of the pool, heart pounding as utahime, having seen the entire interaction helps you out.
“you okay?” she sits in front of you on the edge handing you water.
you nod, chugging half the bottle, before breathing again, “swallowed like…” you gag, “a disgusting amount of that pool water.” utahime cringes as she glances at the pool. the interaction growing even more heated, as a crowd watches sukuna curse out the junior.
“anyone else fucking grab a girl without her permission is getting fucking banned from this frat permanently!” sukuna shouts. murmurs break out across the crowd, a few glance towards you, as utahime notices, but you’re too busy washing your mouth out to care.
gojo’s aloof attitude steps in after coming back with a sweet juice in hand. “okay, okay, we’re clear on consent aren’t we guys?”
people hum, cheering for the games to continue. but then…
“didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
it lands this time, cutting through the noise and sticking just long enough for a few whistles and low laughs to ripple through the crowd. the kind of comment meant to poke, to stir, to see what the hot headed vp will do with it. but what’s worse is that a majority of the crowd has no clue what your relationship is with sukuna. aside from the frat members.
sukuna doesn’t even look at him, and he doesn’t correct it. it’s not because he wants to claim you. not because it’s true. but because it’s annoying—because explaining it, denying it, entertaining it at all feels like more effort than it’s worth. he’s your fuck buddy, he knows that, you know that, and thats all. his jaw tightens once, eyes already elsewhere, done with the conversation before it can grow legs because then he’ll really break his fucking arm.
the party moves on like it always does. music swells back up, as gojo and geto thank the heavens that sukuna was in a good mood before the argument that he wasn’t tempered to continue the fight. luckily the drinks are raised again. gojo’s already laughing, pulling attention away, and just like that the moment dissolves into noise.
sukuna’s focus shifts and lands on you.
you’re still on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, skin slick and glowing under the neon lights. your bikini clings tighter now, nipples pebbled under your soaked top, every curve on display, highlighted by the shadows of the lights above. it makes it impossible not to look. droplets trail down your thighs, catching the light as you tilt your head back slightly, still rinsing your mouth out, brows furrowed in clear disgust.
utahime sits in front of you, just as eye-catching to the hungry men around, her own bikini hugging her frame, water beading along her collarbones as she watches you with a mix of concern and amusement.
and people are staring. not subtle glances—staring like you’re something to watch. something to linger on. like the game earlier just shifted into something else entirely and now you’re part of it without agreeing. no wonder you hate these parties.
it irritates him, fast.
sukuna clicks his tongue under his breath and pushes forward through the water, tall enough that even standing in the pool, he closes the height between you easily. the neon catches on his skin too. his broad shoulders still damp, muscles flexing as he moves, water sliding down his torso in slow lines. he’s not unaware of the way people look at him either—girls nearby pausing mid-conversation, eyes dragging over him openly—but he doesn’t care. not right now. not when he reaches you.
his hand comes up without hesitation, settling on your exposed thigh where it hangs over the edge of the pool. his palm is warm even against your wet skin, fingers spreading slightly, firm enough to ground, possessive. the contact is immediate. deliberate.
the shift is noticeable. a couple of those lingering stares drop off instantly. only then does he look at you. his gaze flicks over your face, still a little flushed, still catching your breath, before settling. his gaze is steady, assessing the way your glossy lips part with an exhale after chugging an entire bottle of watet.
“you good?” he asks, voice lower now, rougher around the edges from the leftover tension. his thumb moves slightly against your skin without thinking, a small, absent motion that doesn’t match the sharpness in his expression.
utahime has to hold back an eye roll, especially when his gaze flicks over your face, then your lips. unbelievable. what’s with him? what’s stopping him from asking you out if he gets so hot headed and possessive—ughhh…utahime holds back her anger, because she was pissed when someone suddenly grabbed you and then had you dunked in the water. why does sukuna have to be so fucking weird though?! she internally curses out sukuan for being the person that always protects her best friend, but acts like a complete jerk another second.
“how much sweat did you drink?” sukuna asks, tone laced with amusement .
your eyes snap, face grimacing, “shut the fuck—up,” you gag again, hand coming up to your mouth just for utahime to snort and sukuna to bark with laughter.
“did i tell ya why we had to drain the pool last year—“ sukuna starts, utahime’s eyes widen.
“oh my god I remember!”
your face pales, nails digging into sukuna’s shoulder while the other still covers your mouth. “don’t you dare tell me.”
sukuna grimaces with an amused expression remembering what happened at last years pool party. but distracting you has somehow managed to isolate everything else around him and have his sole focus on the way you wipe your mouth with a napkin utahime — and now nanami and geto at her side — comes back with, and the way your fingers shift from his shoulder to his forearm resting across your damp lap. and the conversation flows afterwards.
gojo was still on the dance floor, completely in his own world, some girl is pressed to his side as neon lights strobe over him laughing, loud, untouchable in the way he always is. meanwhile, the edge of the pool has settled into something more intimate and funny. the conversations around overlap as you all joke loudly and throwing around slight bickering, cooling off from the chaos, but still very much alive.
and with all that, you hadn’t left. even after everything, you’re still sitting where you are, leg still dipped in the water, skin dewy under the lights, bikini keeping your pretty tits in view for a certain salmon haired man. your hair is slightly damp, pushed back from your face, exposing the curve of your neck—the faint mark sukuna left the night before still visible if someone looks close enough. and you smell heavenly. fuck if you’re alone, he’d bury his nose closer to your breasts to smell the sweat clinging.
but people are looking. they always are now.
they just don’t linger as long anymore. not with him there. sukuna leans into the edge of the pool, upper body braced beside you, his arm draped behind your back like it naturally falls there. his other hand rests lazily against your thigh, fingers tapping absently against your skin as he takes a sip from his beer. his shoulders are broad, still slick with water, veins visible along his arms as they flex with every small movement.
he looks just as much of a problem as ever. and the attention doesn’t stop, girls nearby still steal glances, whispers, watching the way he’s positioned so close to you, the way his hand hasn’t moved from your leg once. but what’s more interesting, is that you don’t move either.
you don’t push him off, don’t shift away. if anything, you lean just slightly into his space, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his forearm where it rests across your lap, like it’s second nature. you like it there.
and sukuna notices. of course he does, with how touchy and clingy you’ve been these past few days. yes, he’s shocked you haven’t left, or haven’t asked him to go upstairs with you. instead you’re being so uncharacteristically attached.
his gaze flicks down for a second, watching the way your fingers move against his skin, something unreadable passing through his expression before he looks away again, taking another sip like it didn’t just register. his stomach churns when you lean forward slapping nanami’s stretched out hand after he said something funny.
“why the fuck are you guys sitting here?” gojo’s voice cuts in suddenly, dripping with disbelief as he approaches, hair damp, grin lazy. he looks down at your little group, then at the pool like it personally offended him. “this is embarrassing.”
utahime snorts. “she almost drowned, idiot.”
“she’s alive,” gojo shrugs immediately, already grabbing a drink from someone nearby. “get in the hot tub. it’s waaaay better!”
a couple girls attached to him nod eagerly, already following his lead as he starts heading that way without waiting for an answer. utahime glances at you. “you wanna stay out or…?”
you don’t even hesitate as you hum, soft. “yeah, why not.”
sukuna catches it.
the group starts moving, the energy shifting with them as they make their way toward the hot tub. somewhere along the path, nanami and utahime get pulled into another conversation, stopping off to the side, leaving you and sukuna to keep going without them. your skin burns as sukuna keeps a subtle hand in your lower back, biting his lip when you reach the hot tub and you step in front of him. his gaze drops to the movement of your ass, your bikini was so skimpy it’s definitely clinging on to your pussy lips too. fuck,
by the time you step into the hot tub, the heat hits instantly. you sigh without meaning to, tension melting from your shoulders as the warmth wraps around you, soaking into your skin. your body relaxes almost immediately, the contrast from the cooler pool making everything feel heavier, slower.
sukuna steps in right after you. and immediately shoves two guys aside with a sharp nudge of his shoulder. “move.”
they do quickly without argument, clearly frat members. he settles in beside you, close again, like earlier, like he didn’t just create that space for you.
gojo drops in for half a second, splashing water everywhere before grimacing. “it’s too hot,” he complains, already climbing back out. “i need another drink.”
and just like that, he’s gone again. leaving you, sukuna, and the rest of the group laughing, talking. the conversation easy as the night keeps rolling around you. especially when geto comes back with some girls and red solo cups for beer pong.
“don’t spill any in the hot tub!” sukuna barks as the girls organize the cups in place on the edge. geto slides into the pool with the ping pong balls.
“shh shh i know,” he zips his friend up as he takes aim. and as the party is brought back to the hot tub, you’re all swept up again. and your eyes are following every movement of your friend beside you. the way he’s shouting and laughing with his frat brothers, the conversations turning to fog when sukuna flexes his large bicep, the ink that wraps around it highlights how big they are. you can’t even recall the context of this sudden flex off, but you’re not complaining.
you watch his throat bop as he throws back another cup of beer, standing beside geto. your eyes trail over his sculpted chest. you suck in your bottom lip as sukuna falls back beside you. his arm draped behind you along the edge of the hot tub, barking another laugh at some crap geto is spewing, completely distracted.
“I swear TO GOD, you told me to go for that dive!” geto throws his hands up, flabbergasted.
“nah nah nah—“ sukuna shouts over, shaking his head with an amused expression, “I told you—“
“nah—satoru!!” geto looks over his shoulder, waving down the president. “SATORU!”
gojo’s head whips around. however, the debate is the furthest thing from your mind, honestly you can’t even understand what these idiots are talking about. but— there’s one idiot that smells heavenly.
sukuna distracted, doesn’t notice how much closer you’re pressed to him, how your lashes flutter at the mix of cologne and chlorine flooding your nose, and dizzying your mind. he’s so—uh..when men— your brain is short circuiting. literally. mind so consumed by how big and strong this man beside is, that all you can think about is how he protected you. he pulled you out of the water. snapped at that guy…for you.
you’re not normally this moved. but it was the series of events that unfolded, all in the last few hours, that has you doing what you do next.
“please! you know i did not agree to that!” geto tsks, pointing his finger at gojo who’s laughing, sitting at the edge of the hot tub, legs in. and the two — along with the rest of the group involved in the debate — are distracted, and unaware of the fact that the pretty girl that sukuna almost started a fight over, is slipping her pretty hand inside his swim shorts.
sukuna tenses. breath hitching.
his eyes snap to you, stomach clenching. “what’re you—“ he chokes when you squeeze his thick base without warning. your cheek casually presses against his shoulder, wetting your bottom lip. your leg is tucked against his side, as the other swings over his knee, pretty tits squished against his arm. your wrist rolls, stroking his flaccid cock alive.
“ryo…” you speak low enough so that only sukuna can hear. “was jus’ thinking about you.” his jaw tenses, hand clenching at the edge of the tub, leaning his head down.
“you’re the one that doesn’t like this shit,” he husks, throat bopping as you bat your lashes up at him, bitting your lip as you give his cock another squeeze, pushing your wet tits against his arm. “there’s people—“
“then be normal, ryo,” you say, all while nuzzling him like a clingy g— “just wanted to feel how big you are.”
his heads tips back, what’re you even saying?
you keep your cheek pressed against his shoulder, lip tucked between your teeth as you stroke the vp’s fat throbbing cock in the middle of a party and in a hot tub full of his close frat friends.
it wasn’t difficult for his dick to fully harden within seconds of your hand making contact. you let out a soft exhale, pressing your practically naked body against him like you could get any closer than you already are. but to make matters worse, he was so unbelievably turned on that you were touching him in public! fuuck, his stomach flexes, biting back a groan when your thumb swipes his bulbous tip, the water made it difficult for you to keep a fast pace stroke, but his skin was still prickling with heat.
“ryo, is this okay?” you softly pant in his ear, a hum like moan escapes your lips just by the way he exhales through his nose, turning his head to you, aroma engulfing you.
to anyone else it just looked like you were having a private conversation with each other. the hot tub and pool, a few feet away, booming with chaos, no one was paying attention to you guys. but even with all that information, sukuna — who spreads his legs further apart in the water, biting his lip when you kiss his neck now, sucking a light bruise on his flushed skin — knows that you’d never do this. you get touchy when you’re drunk, whispering dirty shit in his ear. but you’ve only had a couple drinks to make you tipsy enough to enjoy the party and remember, not black out drunk to jerk him off in public.
“yeah—it’s okay,” his head drops forward, hot red flush crawling up his neck and stinging his cheeks as he nudges your head with his.
“yeah?” you repeat with a coo.
he bites back a pathetic groan, arm sliding to your waist under the water, gripping your flesh like his life depends on it. you’re intoxicating.
“yeah baby.”
a flush of heat runs between your legs at his deep bedroom voice. sukuna is so hot, he’s so hot, so pretty, so sexy! you squeal internally, leaning closer to press your lips against his sharp jaw, whining just low enough for him to hear. your wrist twists down his cock. you hadn’t even full realized that you’d taken him out of his swim trucks, to possessed to care as his fingers dig into your waist, while the other balls into a fist against the tub’s edge.
“are you close, ryo? is your big cock gonna cum?”
unbelievable.
sukuna’s jaw tenses, abs tightening just by your voice. you’ve been hanging up on how big he is. how big his hands are. how big his dick is — scratch that, you’re using the word cock now. yeah he’s gonna fuckin’ cum soon if you keep talkin’ like that.
“there’s so many people around ry,” you shy quietly, “you don’t think they know I’m playing with you?” your slightly tipsy eyes bat up at him, pupils completely dilated. his eyes briefly sweep around him, the alarms flashing in his mind don’t seem to phase him as he drops his lips down to brush yours.
“what if they are aware?” he husks, lidded eyes boring into yours. “does that make y’r pussy wet?” he wets his lip, thighs flexing when you give his cock a squeeze as he speaks. “ya like knowing that there’s eyes everywhere…watching your slutty self jerk me off.”
your brain short circuits. face burning hot.
“I’m not a slut,” you whisper, just as you’re practically straddling his thigh now, with the way you’re inching closer to him every second. his hand slides from your waist to your ass, gripping the flesh as he pulls it apart letting you feel the warm tub water touch your heated pussy.
“you’re gettin on top of me—“
“to protect your dignity,” you attempt a frown, but your eyes keep flicking to his lips, brushing your lips against them again, just for him to pull back, again.
“didn’t take you as someone so generous,” he quips, hips angling up, subtly telling you to keep stroking him, even if it’s starting to feel like edging. “but,” he bites back another groan, “but to me, ya just look like another slut that wants to get her little pussy stuffed.”
you blink.
sukuna can see the lust burst behind your eyes. your thighs clamp around his beefy thigh, your hand squeezing his tip, and your lips parting. “is that so bad?”
ah fuck.
“you can’t say those words to a man,” sukuna’s rasps.
you pout, pressing your wet breasts against his chest, trapping his cock between your bodies. your hot breath fans against his face, scent invading his mind, and your lips brush against his, this time licking his bottom lip. once. twice. your tongue strokes his bottom lip, waiting for him to invite you in, whining a little louder when he refuses. “ryo.”
his large palms grip your ass. your flimsy bikini could easily be pulled to the side, exposing you just like him. your cheeks flush, arching even more, your arms are tossed around his broad shoulder, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, desperate. needy. “I’ve been holding myself back ryo,” you quietly speak, unaware how much like déjà vu this feels. memories of last month flashing in his mind about those exact words coming from your lips as you climbed into his lap in the middle of a party. “you have to take care of it.”
“i have too?” he quips with a sharp edge in his tone.
your flush with embarrassment, lips parting as your lashes flutter shut, “please…please can you take care of it.”
unbelievable.
his cock twitches violently against your stomach. his muscular thigh flexes under your pussy making your lips part.
as you and sukuna speak in hushed whispers. a good group of people have take notice of the awkward shifting in the hot tub and the unrecognizable look on sukuna’s face. but specifically the girl that the sukuna let attach herself to him during a violently competitive water volleyball match and almost pick a fight with. he’s smirking as she whispers in his ear, her lips even pressing his lobe, making the intimidating vice president blush?!
“her tits are all over him,” one whispers, taking a sip as they watch from a distance, both sitting at the pools edge watching the events unfold a few feet’s away in the hot tub. it’s not obvious unless you’re staring as hard as these guys, or if you’re a certain man laughing as you stand up at the edge of the tub, face dropping for a millisecond when you catch your vice president getting off by a hot girl.
fucking animals, geto shakes his head, eyes flicking to gojo, easily communicating with him about you know.
gojo’s brows pinch glancing over from his seat at the edge of the tub, to— “oh shit!”
geto elbows him. “idiot!”
gojo’s hands fly to his mouth, laughing hysterically as he stares at the way his short tempered friend is blushing like crazy, and making it obvious to anyone that he’s getting his dick touched right now. “do they know what they’re doing?” gojo speaks in hushed whispers.
“obviously,” geto sits beside gojo, the tub water doesn’t seem to be appealing anymore. and yet there’s still a few people on the sides laughing, too drunk to notice.
“fucking pervs,” gojo snickers.
a beat passes.
then gojo turns, eyes wide when he sees geto staring blankly at him. “what?”
“you’re worse!” geto slaps him upside the head. gojo gasps in shock. “I can’t even remember how many times you fucked someone in here and in the pool—“
“hey,” gojo frowns, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “that was…b-because they were hot.”
geto scoffs, “you weren’t even subtle about them, everybody knew you were fucking them. YOU’RE the biggest perv.”
gojo nods, “yeah…”
your whine flows directly into sukuna’s ear, lips coming back to his. “why won’t you kiss me?” you quietly demand.
his dimples press into his cheeks as he bites back a smirk. “we’re jus’ talking,” he says your name, but in that deep way he does when he’s stuffing you with his cock…which he’s not.
you sit up closer, sliding higher up his thigh, knee rubbing harshly against his cock — “ah!” you squeal suddenly straddling his lap instead of his thigh. his red irises sink into yours, watching the way your glossy lips part glancing at the surface of the hot tub trying to make out how close his cock is to where you need him. “you’re hard ryo.”
“and?”
your eyes flick up to him, pretty brows pressing together, “and we’re not jus’ talking—“
“y’know—“ he suddenly chokes.
you’ve moved your bikini to the side, and pushed his cock down, fully sitting on his cock and sliding across it, hips shaking, stimulating your needy clit.
your name cuts through the air, his grip moves to grab your hips, trying to keep you still, but his body betrays him as he bucks against you. “fuck, woman.”
your lips press against sukuna, whining like a desperate slut when he finally kisses you back. and this was why he didn’t want to entertain you this quickly. the sweet taste of your lips immediately sends a rush of heat down to his cock, his arm wraps around your back, holding the back of your head as the other grips your ass, groaning as your lips smack in wet hungry kisses. your tongues collide, spit collecting in your mouth as he groans in response.
sukuna has to be responsible. he has too. but you’re such a fucking slut— touching his cock, stroking him in public, rubbing your body (his biggest weakness) against him like you’re alone together. and now you’re humping his cock like you can feel something with the water’s friction.
all of it was a factor, and for some unexplainable reason, all the dots seemed to have connected at this exact moment—like a huge light bulb going off in his head.
“shit.”
you hum at the way his deep voice sends a warm heat blooming in your stomach. “are you turned on, ryo?” your lips purse, kissing his, unaware of the sudden realization he’s come too. “keep kissing me.”
your fingers thread through his short locks, gripping him as you keep his lips moving yours.
but sukuna’s palm splays across your spine, groaning at the way you don’t stop to catch your breath. then his grip tightens. his mouth drags slower this time, more deliberate. he’s testing something, and the way you react—how quick you melt back into him, how your nails press into his shoulders like you’re holding on and the pitched whine that leaves your lips when he tries to pull away.
“how bad d’you need me?” he murmurs, voice low, rough, right against your pretty lips.
you don’t hesitate. “so bad,” you breathe, almost frustrated, because it’s obvious.
his eyes flick over your face, searching, calculating—then narrowing slightly. “yeah?” he hums, thumb pressing into your waist, grounding you as you shift again, his cock snug between your folds. “why,” he asks, tone not soft or gentle, but testing.
you shake your head slightly, breath catching, fingers tightening on him. “because— i just—” you exhale sharply, frustrated, needy, “i just want you to touch me.”
that’s all he needs. a quiet, almost amused exhale leaves him, something darker settling behind his eyes now. nanami’s little comment about “noticing now” makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. it doesn’t mean anything that you’ve had this friend with benefits deal long enough for him to start noticing a pattern every month. especially when this part of the cycle comes around and you’re practically begging him to just touch you. he highly doubts that you even notice it.
“been like this all night,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but his grip doesn’t loosen. if anything, it gets firmer. “can’t keep your hands off me, huh?”
you don’t even deny it. you just pull him back in. and this time he lets you. let’s you kiss him like it’s your last time, let’s you tug his hair like he belongs to you. let’s you pull away… you’re panting at him through glossy, lidded eyes.
and then sukuna notices.
the shift.
your breathing breaks. shallow and uneven. you can’t quite catch it as your lips part, soft, glossy, letting out these higher, breathier sounds that you’re not even trying to hold back anymore. it’s quieter than the music, but he hears it. feels it.
his grip tightens instinctively.
your hips are moving without any rhythm now. they’re slow, needy, desperate. your body chasing something it can’t reach fast enough. your fingers press into his lower stomach, clutching there like you need something solid to hold onto, your head tipping forward, lashes fluttering like a fucking angel. and your mouth falls open. a soft, pitched sound slips out of you—one you don’t even seem aware of—and it’s enough to make something dark flicker across his expression.
“…fuck,” he mutters under his breath, eyes locked on your face now, watching every little change. his cock twitching uncontrollably.
your brows pinch, as you completely fall apart, cumming right then and there. your grip on him tightens, thighs pressing in, grounding yourself on his cock without even thinking about it.
and he doesn’t move. doesn’t interrupt it. he just watches. and all he can think is how unbelievably hot you look in his eyes. women that are ovulating mean they’re more likely to get pregnant. fuck. why is his brain latching onto that part? you’re his fuck buddy. this is simple. it is simple. it’s perfectly reasonable—completely normal, even—for him to get turned on thinking about how much you cling to him, how much you crave him, how much you need him, how your body reacts to him like this. that doesn’t mean he wants to get you—
absolutely the fuck not.
but still…fucking women. you’re insane. his brain is short circuiting while you’re coming undone on his lap, in a hot tub, in the middle of a packed party.
and the way you’re panting, your breasts pushed together as you keep a hand on his lower abs, pussy spasming as your orgasm rocks through you, has something low and satisfying settling in your fuck buddy’s chest. his hand slides up your back again, slower this time, more deliberate.
“yeah…” he murmurs, almost to himself, thumb pressing lightly into your side as your breathing tries to steady. “that’s what i thought.”
his lips ghost over you.
then he feels it…the eyes.
his dark gaze flicks up. meeting the dilated blue and black ones, along with the others in the crowd. they all saw, didn’t they? witnessed something that had his jaw tightening and his pupils returning to their size.
“fuck me,” you pant quietly, arms lazily coming back to his shoulders coming down from your climax. you kiss him deeply, unaware of the mess you’re causing inside his brain. “I’ve heard people say hot tub’s make you orgasm better,” you lick his tongue, “because of the hot water.”
his grip tightens around you, eyes open and staring past you at the people eyeing the arch in your back as you make out with him like you didn’t just hump yourself to an orgasm in public.
“do you wanna cum too ryo?” your mischievous smile would’ve made any man buckle, but sukuna wasn’t any man. and he sure as shit isn’t a fucking cuck.
“no.”
his sudden tone shift had you pulling back, wet hand touching his damp cheek. sukuna’s thick brows were pulled tightly, clearly angry, at what? you’re not sure. but you’re too lax to think much of it as you squish his cheeks between your fingers. his tatted arm possessively hugged you, eyes briefly leaving the not so subtle audience behind you, to meet your glass eyes.
“you mad I came before you?” you tease, head tilting in mockery. cute. “it’s okay, I’ll make ya cum,” you whisper, smile gracing those sinful lips of yours. “I’ll let you choose too…”
fuck, you’re insane.
“…my hands…my lips….or..” you smile. “my tight, pretty pussy….”
you shrug biting your lip, batting your pretty lashes at him. “you always call it that. I’m just using your vocabulary, mister suh…ku…nuh.”
that was his final straw, because in a blink of an eye, sukuna’s tucking himself and pushing off the tub’s seat, standing up. water cascades down the sharp planes of his abs, his swim trunks clinging low on his hips—leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. and people notice, of course they do.
your jaw drops for half a second, eyes going wide before heat floods your face so fast it burns. you shoot up right after him, fist clenching at your side, brows pinching tight. “what’re you doing?”
“we’re going upstairs,” he says simply, like there aren’t a million eyes on him, more specifically on his thick bulge. girls are openly staring now, not even trying to hide it as their gazes drag over him, over the obvious outline pressing against his trunks.
your stomach twists. uncomfortable. ugly. you don’t name it. you won’t name it because it’s stupid. you have no right to feel any type of way about who looks at him or how they look at it. but still, your jaw tightens because the way they’re staring is making your blood boil and they’re looking at something that has nothing to do with them and everything to do with you. just you.
your eyes flick back to him, to the way the water trails down his body, down the dark wet hairs of his happy trail. the way he stands there like he doesn’t give a single fuck about the attention. and it only makes it worse. he looks like he’s been carved out of stone. something untouchable. and everyone’s fucking touching him with their eyes.
your lips press into a thin line, pulse uneven, heat sitting low in your stomach now for an entirely different reason as you step closer to him without even realizing it, hand settling on his stomach blocking the view from the onlookers. your fingers twitch. and you hate…hate how much it bothers you.
“you’re hard,” you huff, pushing him to step out of the tub, heart beating uncontrollably.
sukuna snorts, leaning down, “yeah no shit.”
“people are staring,” you grit.
your pulse stops. the air shifting around you, then you feel it. sukuna’s eyes bore into you, as his palm cups the side of your neck. your lips part in confusion when his gruff voice cuts.
“they’ve been staring.” the muscles on his jaw flex, pupils moving over your face as his gaze drops to your body. “they all…” his words trail off. he can’t say it…he can’t tell you they all fucking saw you cum, or the way your entire form looked like something straight out of every guys wet fantasy. all because of that unspoken tug that twists in his chest as you look up at him.
his head tips back in defeat.
unaware of the turmoil, you continue pushing him back, glancing briefly over your shoulder to see a few eyes not on the party but staring at sukuna.
“can you walk faster,” you mutter.
sukuna suddenly grabs your wrist after another push backwards, almost making him trip. his grip is firm and fast, yanking you back toward him before you can take another step, your body colliding lightly into his chest. water still drips from both of you, heat clashing with the cool night air as he steadies himself, jaw tightening for a second.
“watch it,” he mutters, low, though there’s no real bite to it. if anything, there’s something else there. his hand doesn’t leave your wrist. instead, it slides up, fingers curling tighter as he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. you barely get a word out before he leans down and kisses you hard. it’s sudden and messy, all teeth and heat, like he’s cutting off whatever rush of thoughts were building in your head. your hands come up instinctively, gripping into his shoulders as he angles you just right, one hand now firm at your waist to keep you there. your lips part, immediately tasting his skilled tongue.
and around you, the party doesn’t stop. it never does when it’s grown this chaotic. but there are small pockets, where people notice. gojo, still leaning back against the hot tub’s edge, lets out a low laugh. “zero awareness,” he mutters, clearly entertained. geto just shakes his head, amused, watching the scene unfold like it’s expected. neither of them have the energy tonight to call their friend out, but they’ll be sure to give him shit tomorrow.
but off to the side, a couple girls lean into each other, whispering behind their solo cups, eyes flicking between sukuna and the very obvious situation he’s not bothering to hide. further back, a few of the same guys from earlier in the pool linger, their stares a little too heavy, a little too interested, but sukuna doesn’t register it.
he’s too focused on you. too focused on the way you kiss him back just as hard. how you’re still letting out those fucking whines and moans into his hot mouth. too focused on how quickly you fold into him like he’s the oxygen keeping you alive. to him, this urgency and impatience, just reads as one thing. you want him so bad.
he pulls back just enough to breathe, lips still brushing yours, his gaze dropping to your face, slightly dazed, flushed, and lips parted from the kiss.
“…yeah,” he exhales, almost amused, thumb pressing into your waist. “you taste so good.”
your fingers tighten around his bicep, the other around his shoulder, breath uneven as you blink up at him, still catching up.
“can we—” you swallow, then try again, quieter but more urgent, “can we go upstairs now?”
there’s a beat. then his hand slides down to yours again, grip tightening as he turns, already moving toward the house without another word—pulling you with him. he pushes straight through the noise that follows inside, the lights, the bodies still dancing in the kitchen like nothing. all the way up to his room, and immediately kicking the door shut.
and within a blink of an eye, your tongue is lolling out as sukuna sits behind you, fingers digging into your ass and face buried from behind.
“fuh—fuck yeah,” you drawl, lips wet at the feel of sukuna’s tongue dragging inside your pussy, lapping up and toying with your rim before going back to suck your slick juices. “c’mon ry, haah…” you’re pushing his head back, so you can sit up. you move to tug his wet trunks off, crawling onto his lap once he discards them. unbothered by the tick in his jaw at your stubbornness, because in seconds, your head is tossed back, and your back is arching as you sink down on the nine thick fat inches. “a….ah—“
your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back at the unbelievable stretch. your pussy swallowing every inch like the slut he loves.
“there ya go,” he praises, fingers digging into your ass as you stare at his lips. his sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip as your slick lubricates his cock. your pussy a generous fountain as you roll your hips, letting his cock stuff deep inside you. “take this fuckin’ cock like a good bitch.”
“ry…haah…” you’re moaning in choked gasps, drool peaking at the corner of your lips as you finally sit back on his thighs.
the man’s pupils dilate as you stroke your lower stomach, feeling the bulge as you bat your lashes up at him. “you’re inside me now, ryo.”
fuck you. seriously.
his brain short circuits in seconds. and now all he sees is you.
his body reacts like a dog with his master. obeying your needs like he’s wired to do that. and he’s not complaining. his hand falls on your ass, beefy thighs spreading, as he meets your bounces with rough snaps of his hips. your ass claps against his thighs with each bounce, gasps piercing the air as he fucks up into you with full force. and you let him.
“look like a fuckin’ porn star on top of me,” he grunts, swallowing a moan when you clamp around him, finger tugging on the knot around your neck letting your bikini finally fall off, freeing your gorgeous tits. “fucking brat—“
his tongue falls out, licking your tit that bounces in his face, lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking desperately. and he’s not nice about it. because now he knows. he knows you’ll let him. knows when you’re ovulating you’ll let him be a little harder, meaner, because it feels good. it feels good to feel his teeth bite down on your nipple possessively. it feels good when he spanks your ass for the nth time until your eyes are rimmed red and flooding with tears.
it feels good to have him obsessed with you, because all you’re begging for is…
“cu—uh—cum.”
an electric current runs down his spine, jaw clenching and head tipping back, flooding your tight pussy with his thick load.
“shit—nghhh fuuuck—fuck baby,” he’s gripping your hips as you press against his stomach, rocking on his cock. he doesn’t fully realize his back is laying against the bed. not when you’re milking his cock like he’s some fucking cow…and yet… “shit keep goin, baby—yeah ya want m-Mmm shit.”
“feel so good ryo.” you shake your ass, feeling his cock twitch inside you when his arm wraps around you, tugging you down to his chest.
“you can keep going?”
you smile, hand touching his cheek, as your tongue strokes his bottom lip. “yeah.” you sigh, whining so softly he would’ve missed it. and you continue like that, kissing him over and over, sighing and calling his name as he pulls out, his fingers push inside your pussy from behind.
“y’r killing me with this tight pretty pussy,” he coos, sending a wave of heat through your veins.
you mewl against his lips, earning a mean spank to your ass, just for his middle and ring finger to slip back inside you. and he does that for god knows how long, until you finally spasm around his digits. he’s then flipping you over, easily getting on top.
“keep em open cmon.” his low voice has your pussy pulsing, pushing his previous load out right in front of his eyes. he must know his voice’s affects on you.
you hold your legs open, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch sukuna stroke his member over you. the room smells of chlorine, you, and him. “theere we go,” he groans, palm pressing against your knee as he kneels closer to your open legs, dilated pupils staring at the mess between your legs as he slaps his hard cock on your puffy pussy. “what a dirty fuckin’ girl,” he drags his cock between your slippery folds, exhaling through his nose when his engorged tip catches your sore clit.
“ryoomen,” you call softly, like you haven’t been all over him these last two days.
he snorts, “what happened to mister sukuna? don’t tell me you’ forgot how you humped yourself to an orgasm in the pool—“
“hot tub.”
“my bad,” he remarks sarcastically, tip pushing inside then pulling out again, teasing. “still rubbed this pussy raw, look,” he slaps his cock again, thumb rubbing your little bundle of nerves making you let go of your legs— “ah—keep em open.” he spanks the inside of your thigh. “dirty girls need to be taught a lesson.”
“please,” you scoff, sitting up on your elbows, “you were literally slapping everyone around with your hard dick.”
sukuna barks out a laugh. “my dick’s that big?”
you glance down at him, then back up. “I wasn’t being dirty. you were dirty too.”
“me?” he’s baffled, you’ve been throwing yourself at him all night!
you raise a brow at him, relaxing back on the pillows pressed against the headboard, eyeing him. “you never took your hands off me.”
sukuna scoffs, “as if, you latched onto me on the pool.”
“then i went to hime to wash my mouth out, and you—“ you point at him with emphasis, “came swimming to me, touching me, stroking my thigh, my back.” your brow quirks again, and sukuna goes mute. his jaw ticks, glancing over your face as your calf subtly hooks over his thigh, stroking up as your hands lay on your stomach, waiting.
“you…” he licks the back of his teeth, sharp eyes threatening, but… “so what if I had my hands on you?” oh, he admits it. your cheeks sting, wetting your lip as you shrug.
“well,” you tilt your head again, slightly embarrassed now, glancing down at his inked chest. “like…you can’t blame me for getting turned on then.”
“because I’m touching you?”
you nod.
“like this,” his palm trails from your knee, slowly up your thigh. the warmth of his skin feels burns a trail up your body.
you nod.
his hand reaches your waist, eyes boring into yours. his cock throbbing at this point, he can feel the slick of your arousal costing his cock as it rests against your pussy.
turning to some light foreplay after just fucking you was messing with his head…because….it feels so good.
“what about when I’m touching your waist,” his thumb strokes the soft skin. “it’s not your ass.”
your breath is uneven. your heart beats against your rib cage. “still,” you exhale.
“still turns you on?” he clarifies, catching the way your lips part, breathless just by the way he’s flirting with you. his cock twitches…you’re gorgeous.
you nod.
his free hand caresses your hips, moving it up your body in feather-like-caresses. his other arm is pressed beside you, keeping himself up as he watches your arms lay bent on the bed. his hand lightly brushes the side of your breast before trailing over your collarbone. “still?”
you nod, wetting your bottom lip, blown pupils maintaining eye contact.
his thumb caresses your collarbone, eyes flicking between your eyes and the way your chest is rising and falling in uneven breaths. “how about now?” his palm glides over your bicep, then down your arm, before threading his fingers with yours.
you squeeze his hand, eyes unable to tear away from his, cheeks hot. his face inches closer to yours, exhaling against your lips. “I think you’ve jus’ proved how horny you’ve been these past few days.”
your breath stutters, angling your chin up, “obviously,” you mutter against his lips. “I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating.”
something dark and electric flashes through his eyes. a low exhale leaves him, almost a laugh, but there’s no humor in it, just heat, thick and immediate. his grip on your hand tightens to the point it almost borders on rough.
“yeah?” he murmurs, voice dropping, rougher now, like it’s scraping out of his throat. his forehead nudges against yours for a second, grounding himself, but it doesn’t work. if anything, it makes it worse. “tell me you want me to stuff you then.”
“I want you to stuff me, ryo,” you repeat, breathless as his jaw slacks finally rocking his hips into yours, slick cock massaging your folds. “with your cock…your cum….”
“keep going,” he husks.
your free hand trails up his bicep, the other still holding his hand like an anchor. “I want you to fuck me. hard. use me. cum in me.”
“ah fuck—“ he slips his hand between your bodies, pushing his cock down and snapping his hips into yours, sheathing his entire length inside. your jaw drops, broken cry slipping out. “y’ really know how to make a man fucking hard.”
your lips are glossed with spit as he presses his lips against yours. he swallows your moans, snapping his hips with a mean hard thrust, picking up a brutal pace without warning.
and you love it.
the base downstairs shakes the bedroom walls, the laughing and chatter outside is nothing compared to the way you’re panting and crying in his ear. the lights flickering from the pools strobe lights, only serve to illuminate your flushed face as you cum.
“fuck, you still want more,” he’s already kissing you again, and again. spit mixing together against your tongues as he pulls away. he pants over your face, his cheeks flushed pink and his cock rubbed raw. “fuck gunna cum…ngh yeah fuck fuck—“ he pistons his cock inside your poor cunt, dilated pupils zeroing on the mess that’s gushing from you. his chuckle is broken with his groan as he fucks you through it all. “keep squirting baby, it won’t make me stop.”
and he doesn’t. his thrusts are rough. engorged tip bruising your cervix with every snap of his sharp fit hips. he’s harder than usual, and even as you’re gasping, back of your hand raised to your mouth, pussy spasming as sukuna slams his body weight into each thrust — you don’t push him away.
“gunna cum…shiit, shit it’s coming—“ his voice breaks, and it feels like a damn crashing. his cock pulses inside you, squirting buckets inside your poor cunt. “haah fuh—“ his abs flex, body weight dropping on top of you, hugging you tight as he rocks his hips into lazy harsh humps, burying himself deep inside you, you’re sliding against the mattress. the rasp in his throat has you holding onto him tight, unbothered by how unbelievably heavy he is on top of your smaller body.
and sukuna stays like that. face buried in your neck, arms clutching onto you, and brain fried.
“you also smell sweeter,” he mutters. “when you’re ovulating.”
“I don’t. you’re just a freak.”
he buries his nose deeper in your neck, inhaling sharply. “haah fuck, nah you definitely smell good.”
your brain short circuits, cheeks flooding hot as you wiggle underneath him. “you can’t—“
“you humped me in the hot tub.”
your brows scrunch together. “so?”
he licks your neck, “then you can’t blame me for still being turned on by you.” he licks a strip up to your ear, a tingle runs down to your pussy, squeezing around him.
he smirks.
of course he does. and why wouldn’t he? you’re already nudging him to your lips, kissing him again, like you aren’t stuffed with loads of his cum.
“you’re cute,” he mutters between kisses, and even if that makes your stomach flip, your face burn, and your heart skip a beat…you don’t comment on it. you don’t address it. and you sure as shit don’t think about it.
and the simple answer is, he’s kissing you right now and that’s all you want to think about it.
more frat!kuna here
a/n: I’m blaming the grammar errors on you guys for the rush (I also hate proof reading). but I hope u guys enjoyed it. believe me when I say, I was not expecting it to be that freaking long, I just really wanted to write sukuna and reader kinda skinny dipping, without losing their dynamic or doing something super uncharacteristic, so I dragged out the plot. but still I hope u guys liked it!
and thank you for the wait. I really put most of my free time into this so I can’t tell u when I’ll finish the next chapter of the series, so bare with me for another possible week of agony :’(
▶︎︎ Noble (starring . fire lord!zuko & cult leader!geto)
synopsis . In which the two leaders of two entirely different lifestyles have one other thing in common outside of their lordship—their addiction to you.
content . afab!reader, atla x jjk au, porn with no plot, lots of hair pulling (duh), hints of obsession and possessiveness, eventual threesome & they kinda pass you back 'n forth, brothel worker!reader, missionary, marathon sex, zuko’s a lil awkward here ‘n there, fingering, oral sex, throat fucking, slight nipple play, praise, pet names, sexual use of fire bending, creampies, dirty talk (sugu's filthy like always), full nelson, zuko steams when he’s close/when he cums, manhandling, filth (cum eating), jealous innuendos, prone bone, etc.
word count . 8.7k (dunno how tht happened) || author's note: y’all know i had to. btw this is dedicated to tht one anon who said they’re tired of seeing me write foursomes & threesomes <3 banner art by rororogi mogera!
In a world where things like jujutsu sorcery and elemental benders exist simultaneously, one can only imagine how overwhelming life must be to live.
And yet, you’ve managed to find some sort of balance in the midst of it all as a humble brothel worker.
Well, not just any humble brothel worker but—the brothel worker, as titled by the many men and women of highest ranks in society who’ve had the pleasure of indulging in you for a night or two.
You had gathered many loyal clients over the years, people who'd come in and beg 'n plead for even a few minutes with you. By the time this palate of clients reached those of higher status, your rates naturally went up, and eventually you'd only be visited by those most worthy of you.
Which, is rather impressive for a mere whore.
You're unsure what it was about you that made you so special, but if you had to thank someone for your status in the society of prostitution, that someone would be Geto Suguru, who was the first to openly pick you as his favored escort.
After he came in to your brothel unmasked and open with who he was, many people of higher society began to follow suit until this trend eventually reached royal walls.
It was by then that you were sought out by only the best of the best. And while this was supposed to be a good thing for you, considering it meant much better pay and (thankfully) less harassment, you found yourself facing a new difficulty as your two highest paying clients began to butt heads and clash with their timing...
——
On one hand, you had well known cultist leader Geto Suguru who you'd wrapped around your pretty little finger from his first night with you.
You recall said first night like it were yesterday.
Dimmed lanterns littered the brothel's corners and ceilings, leaving arrays of shadows and silhouettes to splay out across the rich velvet-draped walls whilst the scent of sex 'n sin coated the air.
You were leaning against a scrupulously carved wooden bar, the silks of your robe slanting off your right shoulder—leaving room for a teasing curve of your breasts to spill out to the varying patrons winding about. It'd been a rather busy night for you, as you'd tended to at least three clients back to back prior to finding this short moment for yourself.
Most could hardly afford an entire night with you at this time, even though you weren't considered the best of the best just yet. This brothel brought in all sorts of lost souls, a diverse set individuals who's cash and coin could bring them whatever flesh they craved when their desires ran most rampant.
Your eyes had scanned the room time and time again in search of who to approach, as it was also rather rare that you'd have a second to do the approaching—most came to you. But, this night had been wildly different.
Your gaze plucked out the regulars and you grimaced as the prospect of having to approach one of those merchants who carried leering grins and uncomfortably grabby hands dawned on you. Although you'd a busy night thus far, you were quite hungry for cash.
All you wanted was one more customer before you'd call it a successful night.
You debated on approaching some soldiers who's hands you knew to itch for softness, deeply considering how their pockets tended to run rather deep.
When such powerful fascinations of magic existed, it was only natural that all sorts of people existed as well. There were benders of four different kinds, sorcerers who had the most complex of abilities, mixes of both who existed, and lastly—regular people who carried no special, otherworldly aptitudes whatsoever.
That last category is where you fall. But, you suppose being able to bend your back just right and give people a taste of something far sweeter than any source of supernatural abilities out there was something to be moderately proud of.
It was in this very brothel that you felt most powerful, and nothing nor anyone could take that away from you.
Especially not by the time Geto entered the establishment for the first time.
Staggering in at over six feet tall, cloaked in black from head to toe with half of his face hidden behind an ornate mask, he was certainly nothing to be played with when you first saw him.
You—and everyone else in a hundred mile radius—had heard many rumors and tales of the infamous Geto Suguru. How he slaughtered his own family, was actively wanted for doing so by members of Jujutsu Society, and had some sort of cult brewing about to spread ideals of slaughter in regards to any non-sorcerers.
But, given the mask he had on, you held no idea that the man snapping his eyes your way was him.
Though, looking back on it now, it should've been obvious. Only half of his face was concealed but most should be able to recognize that sharp jawline and those seductive eyes of amethyst hue from a mile away. Not to mention the long tresses of raven black that cascaded down his back, swishing with much elegance as he paced deeper into the brothel—half of it pulled up into quite the signature bun.
"You," He'd been standing in front of you much faster than you had time to prepare yourself for, his voice laced with this smooth purr that—again—anyone should've been able to recognize.
You remember the way you straightened up almost immediately, your gaze meeting his as the tension of his visual scrutiny fell down on you. Luckily for you, you were able to collect yourself just in time to offer a short nod of your head, "Of course."
You had to force steadiness in your voice just to maintain your usual confidence. No way were you about to let some masked stranger get you all nervous.
...Even if the masked stranger in question undressed you with his eyes in a way you swear you've never experienced before.
You ended up leading him up the creaky set of stairs to your left. It was apparent in how quiet he was along the way that he hadn't been a man of many words, at least not to people he didn't know—ergo, you.
Once upstairs, he followed you down the relatively quiet hall, the only source of sound coming from the soft click of a shutting door as you eventually brought him into a private room.
His eyes didn't stay on you long, too eager to take in the intimate space around him. He'd linger his gaze over the wide bed, scoff quietly at the cheap-looking sheets tossed over it, and shift in his standing as he contemplated deeply on all the decisions that led him here.
Then his attention found you again.
Whilst he had reminded dormant, you slowly turned around to face him and wasted little time in working to untie your velvety robes. The fabrics fell to pool at your feet, and for anyone who lived a life much different to this one—the way things played out may have come off as strange. But for you, having a client who spoke very little such as this one wasn't unusual in the slightest.
Hell, it was on nights like that where you preferred it most, honestly.
"Shall I uh..." Your voice wavered a moment but you quickly made up for it via gesturing your hand out to the man. Then you pacing closer to him, "Shall I help you?" You offered simply, your movement extending out into a reach as you went for his clothing.
A hand met your wrist and his head shook, "Not yet."
You'd known the gentleman for no longer than twenty minutes and yet only three words had come your way. How strange.
Unfortunately, you weren't given much time to ponder on his aloofness since you were distracted by the way his hand left you and went for his mask. He lifted it away and you gasped almost immediately at the reveal, stumbling back a bit to move your hands over your mouth.
In one respect, you were scared shitless. The man known for bringing harm to non-sorcerers was currently standing in front of you, a non-sorcerer. And in the other respect, it was hard to be entirely fearful when he had the face of an angel.
Most men prior to this instance weren't always the easiest on the eyes, and it was quite the rarity for you to be in a situation like this.
A few lengthy strands of hair framed the upper half of his now-revealed face and fuck if he wasn't the most beautiful man you'd ever laid your eyes on.
"You look scared," Geto pointed out bluntly, his gaze inert. He watched closely at the way the center of your throat moved with the gulp you took.
Cute.
You wanted to swipe your robes back up from the floor and run for your life, but what good would that really do you?
"Well, you're known for..." Your words failed you entirely but you tried your best to vocalize your scattered thoughts. "A-And I'm not a—"
"A sorcerer? I know," He fills in for you, closing the distance you'd tried to create between the two of you. "But, I don't need you to be a sorcerer to fuck you, do I?"
It was in that moment, and with those words, that you remembered what exactly your job was. Fearing that this man would harm you despite him literally coming to this establishment to feed into whatever lust lived inside him was mildly foolish on your part.
You eventually let your head nod understandingly, your gaze sinking to the floor in slight embarrassment. Meanwhile he'd found himself amused. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you'd easily become his exception for the sorcerer exclusive world he wanted to eventually create.
Geto stepped forward and went to take your wrists into his hands again, tugging you towards him and guiding your palms to his torso. "You can undress me now," He instructed.
Your hands were shaking slightly as you did so, struggling to swallow that lingering fear all the way down. It wasn't until you'd managed his top off that he moved to grab at your jaw rather roughly, forcing your head up and your eyes on his.
You gasped again, "Lord Geto, I—"
"Suguru will suffice," He murmured before you could even finish, tipping his head to the side and leaning in to caress your lips with his own. "I am yours more than you are mine tonight, alright?"
It was obvious he was trying to soothe your nerves but it wasn't really working until his lips fell onto yours. Your eyes went wide when he kissed you, stuck in your own shock and unable to bring yourself back into the moment.
Then, by the time his tongue darted out to tap at the corners of your mouth seeking entry, you regained some of yourself and managed to part your lips for him. After which his tongue met with yours and it was as though a flip had been switched in your head.
Your body pushed forward into his without second thought and you caught him by surprise quickly enough for him to grunt into your mouth. The taste of Geto on your tongue was something you'd never forget—not by a long shot.
One of your hands flew up to the side of his face to trace his cheek as your other explored the expanse of his abs, fingertips dipping against every sharp curve. Geto's body shuddered under your suddenly initiative touch, his breath clinging to his lungs and refusing to leave him in a timely manner.
A single slip of tongues was all it took for you to feel like yourself again and that was enough to have Geto reeling. Your thumb swiped against his cheek in a fashion more tender than he'd ever experienced in his life and he was completely under your figurative spell until your other hand began to dip past his waistband.
After a few minutes of exchanging saliva and soft moans, he'd unconsciously pushed you back against the bed. You pulled away from him and moved to sink to your knees without him having to say anything—leaving him to miss the feel of your tits against his naked chest.
Geto's hand came to the top of your head carefully as you tugged at his dark slacks, letting them plunge to the floor so that his erect cock could spring free. The man swears he caught a little twinkle in your eye upon watching how his dick came slapping up against his abdomen. Perhaps you were a bit more passionate about your job than he'd realized.
His cock was unduly thick, tannish length standing tall and curved whilst it dripped excessively with precum from the plump tip. You were salivating before you'd even copped a proper feel.
Your eyes flicked upward and he peered down at you expectantly, cocking a brow as if to ask what was taking you so long. You never cared much for being rushed but something told you that his neediness would somehow make everything worth it soon enough.
Then your mouth met his tip and you licked slowly, savoring the new taste of him on your tongue. He groaned faintly before moving to thread his fingers into your hair for a better grip on your head, his hips instinctively rocking forward. Your lips stretched around his cock as you swallowed him in, drool spilling out from the sides and quick to make a mess of your face.
Geto wasn't hesitant in fucking your mouth, especially with how good you were at using it. Your tongue did these tricks against him that he'd never felt before and it had his balls aching for release within a matter of minutes.
Hell, it had him thinking maybe he should've visited a brothel sooner!
"Jus' like that," Came from his purring tongue, "Take every inch of me-, fuck—mhmm, stretch that throat out. That's perfect." He grunted, voice laced with a nasty cadence.
You'd gag slightly as he knocked against the back of your throat, but it was a feeling you'd grown quite used to over time so you've come to enjoy it more than anything. Geto didn't take much longer to use your mouth as if it were specifically shaped to accommodate the size of his fat cock.
When he felt himself growing close, he plucked you right off of him and let the slops of saliva web all in between his tip and your chin. Then he'd hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed, abandoning thoughts of his own pleasure just to come spread your legs and kneel himself between them.
It wasn't unusual for clients to eat you out per-se, but it was quite uncommon.
Surging forward with no preamble, Geto buried his face into your sappy folds, his tongue coming forward with a spongey greeting to soak in your arousal. In the midst of this, you caught the man smiling like he'd proved something to himself just from getting a taste of you. Whatever that something was is entirely unbeknownst to you but, it matters little in the long run.
"Suguru," You tested, letting his name fall from you for the first time and watching how he instantly ground his hips forward to rub his bare cock against the bedsheets.
His lips were glistening in the remnants of you as his head fwipped upwards, "Again, pretty. Say it like you mean it." Geto ordered.
You did exactly that whilst he dove right back in, his hand coming out of seemingly nowhere to add two fingers into you and stretch you open on par with the rotational laps of his tongue.
"Mmngh! Sugu-, shit.." You huffed breathlessly beneath him and the workings of his mouth.
It seemed as though the sudden nickname you spewed was enough to send him into this feral state of feasting, mouth widening against your pussy just to suck 'n kiss alllll over you like you deserved to be sucked 'n kissed on. Your fingers tangled into his hair somewhere along the way but it began to grip and tug as you felt your orgasm approaching.
The skin of your thighs caged his head as your voice grew loud enough to escape the otherwise sound-proof walls of the room.
Directly after your orgasm flooded both his tongue and his thick fingers, Geto had no plans on letting you recover from it.
That first night with him was quick in the best way imaginable.
Geto rose to position his achy cock at your entrance, letting the head smack! in between your puffy folds a couple times before he started pushing in. Your hands went out to grip at the surrounding sheets and you whined whilst he stretched you out.
He was the first client of yours to ever make you feel so immersed in the acts of sexual pleasure, but far from the last.
He waited for the walls of your cunt to adjust to his thick size before he worked a steady pace into you, soon fucking you in a way that's simply incomparable to what you were used to. Your body rocked and rocked against the bed with his every thrust, his hands moving from the sheets to your hips, then to your breasts just to squeeze your body like he felt you needed.
One moment he was groaning and grunting above you about how good you felt, and the next his hands were on the undersides of your thighs, forcing your body to bend how he wanted as his voice curved all into your ear.
"Tell me something," He husked heavily, his hair framing your body with the way it fell out all messily. "How many cocks do you actually enjoy taking, hm?"
You choked.
Sure, men had asked you questions like that before but... most weren't too concerned with the others that you'd been with.
Cunt clenching around him, "I-I... I don't know-, nngh!"
At that, Geto had lifted himself just enough to grab ahold of your face like he'd done earlier, staring your dead in the eyes whilst his hips came rocking down into you—cock fucking the air right out of your lungs. "Well, when you make faces like that... I can't help but feel like mine is the only correct answer, no?"
It was your first night with the man and yet, you knew for a fact you had him right were you wanted him. A few have gotten addicted to you in the past, sure. But their pockets never aligned with their desires.
Not like Geto's did.
He eventually emptied himself into you, and wound up leaving you with a tip large enough to prevent you from working at all if you wished it so.
Then he became a recurring customer. Actually, scratch that, Geto Suguru became the recurring customer (for a while, anyway).
If you were with someone, he'd have them quickly dismissed and pay three times whatever the person you were with had been charged plus some just to make it happen.
Not only that, but he also showed up unmasked after his first night with you. You're unsure why exactly he did that when all this did was bring about attention to you.
Words of your successfully seductive nature spread all across the lands because of him, reaching places you never could've imagined for yourself.
...Such as the Fire Nation.
Or, more specifically, the Fire Nation's palace.
——
With Geto highlighting your sexual talents, you got new clients of all sorts. Other well-renowned jujutsu sorcerers, the most talented of benders from varying nations, etc.
The madam of your brothel helped you to maintain appearances, slowly viewing you differently over time, and eventually realizing that you were becoming her most starred worker—keenly peeping the investment she'd have to put into you in order to keep this flow of high societal members coming.
Your older garments, albeit nothing wrong with them, were quickly replaced with new silks that were more intricate and softer—fitting for a woman of your stature now. Your room had been moved higher within the building, farther from the bumbling noise of the common floor, and closer to those who could afford the best discretion.
Even the way your coworkers spoke to you had shifted. Some interacted with you whilst carrying awe in their eyes, others moving with resentment.
But through all this, Geto kept coming back, continued to remain your most devoted and loyal client.
That is, until Fire Lord Zuko waltzed in one night.
You were tucked into the comforts of your room when he'd visited the brothel, deaf to the commotion occurring just beyond your door.
Whispers flooded the hallways just outside, along with shocked gasps, attemptive passing touches, and failed glances of seduction as he made his way towards your room. Then came one firm knock to your door, the sound loud enough to startle you a bit.
You abandoned whatever it was you were tending to and made haste in approaching the door. As you moved to open it, you were left star-stuck from the sight of regal fabrics alone. Before you even looked up to see who was under said fabrics, you felt your heart lurch in your chest.
Then you peeked upwards and gasped rather animatedly, the folded fan you had in your hand fluttering to the floor. "L-Lord Zuko," You stammered in shock.
It was instantaneous the way you let your head lower into a rightful bow after catching the slightest shift in his brow, to which his face had lightened up a little in surprise.
Then came the tenderness of his voice, "You... don't have to do that." Zuko breathed, moving to lightly take your hands into his own.
You lifted your chin back up shortly after, blinking all dumbfoundedly at the man, "But..." As your words trailed off, he was firm in holding both your gaze and your hands.
His skin was warm against yours, eyes gorgeous in their golden hue, and long black hair falling loose to frame some of his tall figure. It was clear that here—in this brothel with you—there was no veil of inherent royalty between you and him.
The burn scar that twisted his left eye and cheek remain bare for you to take all the way in. It was unreal to have the Fire Lord standing right in front of you like this. One could only dream of such a thing, truly.
Within the spark of a moment that dwindled between the both of you, he let himself unconsciously lean a little closer to you. Husking a soft-spoken, "I'm not the first of royal status to pay you a visit, am I?" He asked.
You cleared your throat, "No, no, of course not."
Then you let your hands depart from his and you took a step back, moving your arm out to gesture him into entering your bed chambers. Zuko seemed to be delighted by the way you regained your comfort thus far, his shoulders relaxing as he inched forward.
Just before his foot fully passed the doorway, he paused and cut his eye back over his shoulder. Everyone who he'd passed whilst making his way here had been watching that entire little interaction, but the moment Zuko looked back at them all, they'd flinched and scrammed to return to whatever mindless tasks they'd been busy with before.
With the hallway cleared from a mere glance—with the exception of one or two fire nation guards—he let out a short breath through his nose and then turned to enter your quarters, the ends of his fashionably red and gold attire fluttering behind his every step.
You shut the door behind him and pressed your forehead against it for a moment. Your heart was pounding with every lengthy second that dragged by.
Fire Lord Zuko is standing in your room.
Fire Lord Zuko is standing in your room.
Fire. Lord. Zuko. is standing. in your room.
How do you even-
"Miss..?" He calls out almost sweetly, unintentionally making you flinch out of your thoughts.
You gulp, swirling around to face him only to swirl yourself right into his chest.
When had he gotten so close?
Your hands fly up to steady yourself—lightly grabbing onto him—and you squeeze your eyes shut, "My apologies, my lord..." You mumble, "As you can see, your arrival has startled me greatly."
Something soft leaves his lungs as his hands carefully meet your arms, "Why's that?" Fuck, his voice was so warm.
Your eyes bat themself open before moving up to meet with his. "...Are you seriously asking me that?" You blurt out.
Zuko stares at you an awkward moment.
He obviously wasn't used to having anyone speak so casually to him, and while he somewhat expected it before coming into this, it still manages to catch him off guard.
Leading him to let out a harmless scoff, "Pardon me for my confusion, miss. I just thought you'd be used to nobles visiting you by now. I've heard the rumors, after all."
You stare right back at him before tilting your head cluelessly, "Rumors?"
Zuko’s eyes skim over every inch of your face, appreciating the lack of space between your body and his already. Then he smiles ever so slightly, "You don't even know what people speak of you, huh?"
Your head shakes.
"They say you're the best," He explains steadily, lifting a hand to whisk a single strand of hair away from your face, "That a single night with you is enough to heal a broken heart of any sorts."
"Does that imply that your heart is recently broken, my lord?" You tease.
His hand halts for a second. Then his grin deepens, "It's not. I'm uh... I'm only reiterating what I've heard of you."
Playfully rolling your eyes, "Well, those rumors of me are wildly dramatic."
His eyebrow raises as if to challenge your claims, “Are they?"
You stand your ground, "I do whatever is asked of me and I get paid, there's nothing more to it."
Zuko doesn’t even try to hide the way he doesn’t quite believe you. Something threading on smug flickers across his expression whilst his thumb maps out the side of your face, drawing itself down towards your mouth.
You get lost in his touch faster than you can even help yourself. Everything about Zuko is just warm—there’s hardly another way to put it. His voice is velvety and tender on your ears, never too much bass or aggressiveness in the words that leave him.
In fact, it’s the exact opposite.
Every syllable slides off his tongue with this crowned elegance that somehow doesn’t ever strike your eardrums as too entitled or belittling in any way. "And yet word of your reputation alone has led me to you." Zuko says, the tip of his thumb finally greeting your bottom lip.
The gloss resting there makes him mouth out the word pretty and you feel your breath hitching, as if his compliment weighed far more than any other you’d ever received.
"For reasons far beyond me,” You murmur in response as he thumbs your lips apart slowly.
Zuko’s hand gathers the rest of your chin into his hold to lift your head further up and he spreads your lips apart from one another fully as he whispers, "Your humbleness is honorable, sweetheart."
Something in your chest flips right then.
Sweetheart.
A nickname you’ve heard time ‘n time again. A nickname you should be used to hearing by now.
But when it comes from him…
The look in your eyes change as you push your mouth against the pad of his thumb, “I could show you some other honorable things, my lord.”
His brow furrows and you hear a breath escape him, having hitched somewhere in his throat. “That's what I'm here for, but I'm not sure honorable is the right… word...” Zuko trails off, quickly getting enamored in the way you move your mouth to take in his thumb.
He’s not entirely a stranger to seduction, but it didn’t take long for him to figure someone like you should be something much more than a mere brothel worker. If this was something you truly took passion in—surely becoming his concubine would be much more fitting.
And with your tongue rounding his thumb in a manner meant to imitate the way it later would his cock, Zuko knows he’ll be returning to this brothel many times before he’s even half way satisfied with indulging in you.
He soon plucks his thumb from your mouth and moves to grab ahold of your face, tipping his head opposite of yours, and then leaning in as if to kiss you.
Zuko slows himself just short of his lips colliding with yours and you nearly whine at the teasing gesture. The man lets your breaths mingle and swirl into one another, exchanging waves of intimacy prior to engaging in the real thing.
Then, just to work you right up, he smirks and utters, “You want it?” as if you weren’t already a melting mess of need in his palms. He didn't realize it then, but you could tell this whole thing was new to him in one way or another.
You nod almost stupidly though, “Please?”
Zuko’s lips slip down onto yours and both of you hum into the kiss almost immediately. He’s holding your face like you’re the most dearest thing to him and you’re reeling in the fact that you’re kissing the Fire Lord himself.
And then in a matter of minutes the both of you go from tentative kisses and gentle moans to the tugging of clothing and a fiery handling of one another.
Zuko very nearly shreds your robes to ash just to get his hands on your bare skin—his touches eager as he soon has your tits fondled perfectly within his palms while still working your mouth over with his own.
He’d kiss you until you were breathless and clinging to him for more, ignoring how your hands tried to dip down for his cock, and smoothly bringing his mouth down to your chest.
His lips cupped one of your nipples before you had time to react, sucking and tugging on the perky bud with much fervor. “Mmmgnh,” Zuko hummed against you whilst rolling his tongue around in pleasureful little circles.
The first night with him was nearly as fast as the first night with Geto had been. Nearly.
There were little differences between the two men when they were with you. Both seemed eager and happy to please you more than they did themselves.
Zuko spent an almost concerning amount of time slobbering against your tits before even thinking of pulling his dick out. And once he did free himself from the restraints of his regal clothing, you’d already been laid down on the mattress in the particular position he planned on taking you in.
You laid on your stomach—body decorated and smothered in all sorts of markings induced from Zuko’s incessant mouth—and he was soon positioning his thighs around your own with his cock swinging out just above your ass.
When Zuko was especially turned on, bits of steam would puff out from his nose. A cute fact of which you come to pick up on over time, of course.
Sometimes you’d feel said steam caress your back when he took you from behind as he was now. The balmy head of his long cock would prod at your weepy pussy lips before he’d ease himself in, and by then, he was already a mess.
You’d push your hips back against him and he’d nearly lose his balance above you, a short huff that sounds dangerously close to a whine slipping right out of his lungs.
“So beautiful…” He’d coo, noticing how you shudder under the heated touch of his fingertips as they traveled the curve in your spine. Then he’d flatten his hand somewhere in the center of it and force your arch to deepen as he humped his dick into your wetly ringing cunt.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head instantly and drool danced out the side of your mouth along with a moan of his name, “F-Fuuck, Zuko.”
He adored the sound—felt himself growing wildly enamored by it with each time it dangled off of your tongue. The rumors about you were nothing compared to feeling you.
Your walls sucked him in to the hilt without him even having to move much, clenching around his cock in rhythmic motions that had his mind going blank for moments at a time. Zuko was thankful he’d had you in prone bone, otherwise you’d see just how red ‘n pink his cheeks had colored over just from fucking you.
Even so, he couldn’t control the sounds he let out. The way he’d grunt and then thrust as if to distract you from it, loving how you continued to gasp out directly after.
Up until you’d angled your head back to look at him, a gorgeously cockdrunk look dazzling over your glossy eyes. He’d never seen something so sinfully beautiful in his life.
Zuko’s hips were snapping down into you faster than he realized, his hand moving to your chin to force your head further back the moment you tried to look away from him. The nerve you had to give him a taste of such a perfect expression just to hide it from him seconds later.
How rude.
His body craned down and his face was mere centimeters from yours as his cockhead thrashed against the inner depths of your cunt. The two of you panted and moaned in sync, his jaw slacking from how good it felt to be inside you whilst fucking you into making that addictive expression.
It wasn’t until he was getting close that you felt his balls smack smack smacking! against your skin harder, and the faint smell of something burning coming from somewhere to your left.
There’d been incidents in the past—especially with fire benders—where silk sheets had been burnt within the brothel. You were no stranger to the scent, you knew exactly what it was without having to place your eyes on it.
Even so, your head ached to turn and locate the source of the fiery smell, but Zuko wasn’t having it. His veins trailing his cock throbbed and he groaned out all loudly as he kept your head in place with a steeling grip.
Huffing, “Shit-, i-ignore it.” as he continued on, despite the smell getting stronger.
You gasped and your body was conformed entirely to his hold on you, “But-, ah! You’ll burn something, my—“
“Say my name,” The Fire Lord demanded all of a sudden, his brow pressing inward as frustration built up across his face.
“Zuko,” You whined, “The sheets will—“
Again cutting you off, he tipped your head further up and swallowed up your words by kissing you. You struggled to kiss him back properly because of how mean his hips were coming down on you, but you tried your best.
When he finally pulled his mouth from yours, you saw how blissed-out his eyes had been. “Ignore the burning, focus on my cock. I know how to-, fuck.. how to control myself. No fires will be—god, you feel so good—c-caused… I promise.”
Even as he tried to reassure you, he was actively burning a hole into your favorite sheet set. Of course, these could be easily replaced by him—but it was the principle of it all, y’know?
His cock twitched inside you in sync with the flickering flames coming from his fingertips. You began to drool and he panted above you, letting his grunts and faint whines speak for his feels of pleasure instead of his tongue. The bedding was left singed due to his flames but you didn't mind it too much.
At least, considering how he most definitely pays you more than you ever could've imagined for yourself.
He ended up cumming somewhere on your back, with his dick going flaccid just between your ass cheeks shortly after. Your head fell down into the sheets and you found yourself smiling at the fact that the Fire Lord just fucked you.
You didn't mean to brag buuut... no one else could say that happened to them!
Those flames of his died out just after he calmed down and he soon fell to your side, his eyes going up to the ceiling to relish in what he'd just done.
Zuko had been stressed for weeks, months even, but that first night in the brothel with you was more than enough to motivate him for the next upcoming days.
Which is precisely why he kept coming back. Over and over and over and over again until he was just as recurring of a customer as Geto had been.
——
This routine of yours was manageable enough for a time. A long time, in fact.
Months went by before your time spent with Geto and Zuko separately ever conflicted with one another. But, of course, it was only a matter of time before they'd cross paths.
The beloved brothel of yours was alive 'n thriving with its usual throng up until a servant had come banging on your door all urgently, calling your name out with her voice shaking as if freightened.
Her voice quakes from outside your door, "Two arrivals, miss—L-Lord Zuko and.. and Lord Geto. They're both requesting y-"
"Send them in," You call back to her before her statement could even find its end.
"Together?" She squeaked.
You finally approached the door and move to swing it open, flashing a her a gorgeously perfected smile at the frightened lady, "Why, of course."
"...But miss, they're both demanding to see you separately." She warned.
"No matter," Your hand moved to wave off her words, "If they want me as badly as they so claim, they'll come to me regardless of who else decides to do the same."
The servant bats her lashes at you a few times, by far deeming you as the craziest lady currently occupying this brothel. It's not that serving two clients at the same time was uncommon, but the fact that you wanted to take in your highest paying clients—two men of very high status—at the same time...?
You had guts. Perhaps the attention you'd been receiving lately had gone to your head? Suppose Lord Zuko set this entire place ablaze simply because he doesn't feel like sharing, what then—
"The longer you stand there staring at me, the more impatient my gentlemen grow," You remind the poor servant, snapping her out of her gaze.
She blinks repetitively before bowing sharply and then turning on her heels. Then you watch her rush down the hall to go fetch your desired men.
You disappeared back into your room shortly after and patiently waited for your door to fly back open, this time with your sought-after guests. It'd been quite some time since you'd participated in a threesome so, part of you was definitely thrilled at the prospect.
And luckily for you, Geto nor Zuko cared much—or at all, really—about who the other guest coming to see you was. They even came bursting into your room together, Zuko first and Geto following closely behind him.
It was obvious without a word that they'd had enough time on the walk towards your quarters to discuss what was to take place. You could tell by the way they came in all silent.
Before this, you'd known both men to become more talkative over time when they came to see you. Geto would preach to you about his beliefs that you definitely didn't care about and Zuko would spend his free time with you to vent about the weight of royal responsibilities resting on his shoulders.
You enjoyed these things from them, of course. But at the end of the day, you had a role to play. A job to do.
And tonight—despite the both of them entering your room together—was absolutely no different. It was here nor there what few words were exchanged between the time it took for them to get themselves undressed and for you to figure out how exactly they'd decided on sharing you tonight.
All you know is that one moment they were slowly taking off their garments as you watched patiently—awaiting some sort of direction—and the next, Zuko's mouth was on yours.
You wanted to ask them how they decided on who'd get to do what first, especially considering that they're two entirely different people but neither of them gave you a chance to do so.
Luckily enough, your question is answered somewhere after Zuko kisses you until you were a drooling mess between your thighs and Geto lapped away at said drooling mess.
The room was heavy-, nearly clouded with the mixed scent of arousal and sweat, sheets rumpled up from the rapidly escalating actions. First you were between making out with Zuko while Geto did the same with your cunt, and then you found yourself positioned between them.
It was in that same position—arched over like some slut as Geto moved himself behind you, hand gripping over your ass whilst his cock rubbed between your cheeks—that the two finally started releasing more than a moan or a grunt.
You'd argue that Geto started it off by saying, "Ah, look at you.." after gliding his cock neatly in between your sodden folds. He thrust forward once and watched how your ass came bouncing against his sharp pelvis. Then he huffed, "Such a sweet girl, always sucking me in like you missed me-, fuck. Did you miss me, gorgeous?"
Your jaw fell open to reply to him but you were crudely cut off by Zuko, who was busy nudging his cock in between your lips. When your eyes lifted up, you saw how he had a bulky arm over his face as if to his his expression from you. Even so, his other hand was busy working his shaft down the center of your tongue—as if whatever Geto was saying to you wasn't worthy of any sort of response.
You found it funny at first, but then they started to go back 'n forth.
Zuko was matching the pace Geto was quick to set in a matter of seconds, your body left to wobble back and forth between them.
"No one pleases me like you do," Zuko murmured, the sudden praise catching you by surprise. "Fuck-," his voice pitches and you caught how his eyes fluttered. Then his hips ever so carefully grind forward, his balmy tip pressing a smear of precum down your throat and leaving a slopped smooch at the back of it.
Your cheeks hollowed out then and Geto was left to feel the way your cunt suddenly soaked around his dick. His hands latched onto your hips and you shuddered in pleasure upon feeling his fingers ground into your skin as his snapped forward a little sharper.
It was like he was competing with Zuko—silently trying to figure out who could hit the best spots inside you and say the right things just to get you wetter. Unfortunately for the crowned man in front of you, Geto's sneakily slipping a hand under you to swish the pads of his fingers over your clit 'n bring you to a quick orgasm on his cock.
Boasting about it directly after as a crooked smile crafts itself into his face, "There's that sloppy mess I was lookin' for. Shit-, I love the way you feel when you cum on me like that."
"Mmgh-, mmpfh!" You're mumbling against Zuko's dick. What exactly you were trying to say is lost to both men, as they mutually assume you were simply moaning.
Zuko's attention is caught by the man behind you though. His eyes flicking over to him as his arm drops from his face and he frowns. Mumbling, "She only did that cause of me..."
"Oh yeah?" Geto looks up immediately, cocking his head left while keeping his girth dormant inside your gummy walls. He gives you some time to focus more on sucking Zuko off properly, and delightedly enjoys in the way your pussy smothers his cock in a thin shimmery layer of release. "And what exactly makes you think that, your highness?" He mocks.
The Fire Lord rolls his eyes, "Well, she's—ah, heyyy," he looks down at you, "At least give me a second to t-talk, won't you?"
You drunkenly peer up at him, his cock still bulging in between your swollen lips. A trickle of saliva drips down and falls in between the valley of his balls, leading Zuko to shiver as his hand grips onto your head tightly.
Doing his best to ignore you anyway, his attention moves to Geto again. "As I was trying to say... she likes-, hah, getting her throat fucked," He points out with an intentionally jerky thrust of his hips, leading your jaw to ache for a split second from how deep in your trachea he was reaching.
Geto pulls himself out of you, dick flitting up into the air with droplets of your arousal hanging from it in dewy little strings. He glances at the sinful display for a second and uses his hand to grab his cock and tap it against your ass a couple times.
You let out another hum or two against Zuko in reaction.
To which Geto chuckles, "Yeahhh, I don't think she came because of you at all. But, I'll let you think that."
Zuko all but pouts upon hearing that. It was almost as though his honor or something was being contested with those words. So, he releases a chuff and practically snatches his length out of your warm facial cavern. "I don't take kindly to being challenged," He claims, ignoring your mouth that's steadily pressing forward for more.
"Nobody's challenging you, Lord Zuko." Geto shot back before moving his hands up into a surrendering gesture and shutting his eyes calmly. "Alls I'm saying is that she came on my cock, not yours-," His eyes opened slowly and his arrogant expression fell, "Uh, what're you doing?"
"Proving you wrong," Zuko answered casually as if he weren't currently hauling you up into his arms and spreading you out into a particularly debauched full nelson. You feel the firmness of his muscles rubbing against all sorts of crevices and nooks of your skin, only making you soak more.
His arms had hooked under your knees, folding your body into that perfect hold—your arms pinned behind your back, and plush thighs spread out widely. Your pussy was on full display, poor folds puffy 'n wet, exposed to Geto's hungry gaze as he watched intently.
"Like..." Geto blinks once-, twice upon seeing you spread out so broadly. "Like that?"
Zuko tuts, "Obviously."
You're squirming, naturally, but neither of them pay any mind to that either. Not your first—nor last—time in this position but fuck if it hadn't been a whiiiiiile since you'd been held up in such a precarious position.
"Hah. Fine then," Geto moves to slouch back against the bed, "Fuck her good, Fire Lord. Show me how uh," He nearly forgets his wording just from watching the other man's cock nudge up into position, "...Royal seed marks its territory, yeah?"
"Tch." Oh, Zuko was so annoyed.
With the way they were acting now, you hardly understood how the hell they agreed to share you in the first place. There's no way—
Something warmer pressing against your entrance, warmer than anything you've felt before. It wasn't an uncomfortable temperature or anything but there was this certain heat to it that made you flinch deeper into Zuko's grasp on you.
Then came his voice at the shell of your ear, "Feel that?" he whispered, hands holding you steady.
You shuddered, "Y-Yeah. Why're you so-, ah!"
He was pushing up into you before you had much time to question him. Zuko didn't need questions, he just needed to be snug inside that slobbering pussy of yours, stuffing you full of himself, and soon having you cream around him far more than you did on Geto.
...And if it took making his cock feel significantly different than Geto's did inside you via slight manipulation to the heat surrounding it, then so be it! You'd never have a moment long enough to question it anyways.
Y'know, since you're much too busy getting fucked dumb on his cock shortly after its slotted inside you. You're promptly displayed in front of Geto—who couldn't stop himself from tugging at his dick to the sight even if he tried—and your body feels almost tingly as Zuko plunges in and out of you.
He so easily lifted you up 'n down his cock, your pussy struggling to keep up with the pace as it squelched and left slicks of creaming arousal alllll over him.
The position allowed Zuko to hit deeper than he ever had before—arguably even deeper than Geto had too. Filthy juices slicked his cock, drooling down to his heavy balls whilst he bounced you in his arms.
You found your orgasm more times than you can count in that position but it took Zuko a bit to get there himself since he'd put so much focus and energy into getting you to cum on him harder than you did on Geto.
And even after, by the time he's obscenely thrusting his own load into you, Geto still looks as though he's got something up his sleeve.
The cult leader had spilt into his hand already but that mattered little, as he had one more thing in mind in order to win this imaginary competition he'd set.
Zuko pulled out of you and lowered your used body down gently onto the bed right in front of Geto. A mix of your release and his seed leaked out from inside you. He moved a hand to the top of your head to pat you softly and wiped sweat from his brow before casting Geto a glance, "There. I win."
The sly man smirked, "Did you?"
"I did," Zuko confirms, shrugging. "There's nothing else you can do to—"
He is oh-so-unfortunately cut off by Geto moving forward to nestle in between your legs.
Zuko clears some shakiness out of his throat, "You... You're not about to do what I think you are... r-right?"
Geto merely winks at the man before pushing your jittery legs apart. Your back falls towards Zuko, who easily catches you, and is left to watch Geto angle downwards.
Your pussy glistened with the evidence of Zuko spilling into you, a milky white left to leak from your hole. "How pretty," was the last thing Geto murmured before he did the unimaginable and dove in.
His tongue came in flat and broad as it lapped at your folds, just nasty in the way he scooped up the mingled folds onto it.
He sucked appreciatively on your cunt but you were whimpering above him, tugging at his hair and then pushing at him because your head's all confused with pleasure and the back to back stimulation. Geto's tongue swished around your clit before he sucked on it, and you gasped.
Your hand flew somewhere before you were clutching onto both Zuko's arm and Geto's head as the man cleaned you.
Zuko transfixed on the sight for a long timed before you heard him say, "Doing something so filthy for her pleasure..." He managed a smile in between his words, "How honorable."
Geto plucked his mouth away then, just to respond. "What's with you and this honor thing, huh?"
"Just take the compliment," Zuko hummed.
"Give me a normal one and perhaps I will."
"That is a normal one."
You snort wearily, "Zuko, my dear, there is... hahhh, n-nothing normal about you and your fixation on things being honorable."
content: the notorious fuckboy suddenly stopped sleeping around and nobody knows why. its totally not because he’s been secretly running around with someone that’s almost a decade older and is embarrassed to be seen with him in public || MDNI, fem!reader, age gap (gojo’s 20-21 readers late 20s), smut, porn w/ plot, fuck buddies, secret relationship(?), gojo plays rugby 🫦, readers lw so embarrassed to be seen with him LMAO, date crashing, he also calls her drunk to tell her he misses her, he's an unhinged little shit
notes: hiiii im so sorry to the ones that asked to be tagged, ive been swamped with schoolwork and im exhausted 😭 11.9k words today, enjoy the read 🙂↕️❤️
Satoru has lived his life quite simply these past few months— just school, training, and games.
Everyone’s gotten on his case about it— mainly just questioning him, but there are moments like yesterday, when he got accused of going through a crisis of some sort over his sexuality. Or last month, when the entire frathouse got together in the living room and tried to have some intervention, thinking he had depression or some other shit.
He doesn't. He’s also not very worried about his sexuality.
It’s crazy because he really hasn’t changed that much. He just hasn’t brought anyone over. Or gone out on dates. Or made out with anyone at parties. Anything related to girls, he hasn’t taken much part in.
But that’s it! That’s all!
He still goes to parties, still has good grades, still goes to practice, and still wins games. He’s just as present— he’s just not fucking anybody, and now everyone thinks he’s dying because of it.
Assholes.
He’s fucked half the school, for all they knew, he could’ve just been giving his dick a break! He wasn’t— but he could be, and that wouldn’t be anybody else's business but his own. He’s a grown man, despite many individuals begging to differ.
Whatever, fuck them.
Funny thing about it all is nobody seems to have noticed that he’s out of the house at certain hours throughout the week. Consistently. So really, it’s on them for not trying hard enough to find answers to their invasive little questions.
Hm. Actually, no. On the off chance that they do ask what he’s up to on a night like tonight, he’ll just lie, say he’s at the gym or something. He’s not exactly allowed to tell, which is fine; he’s more than willing to keep a little secret.
That little secret was tucked away in a nice apartment that had a view of the entire city. A tranquil little place— except for when he’s around.
The bed’s steadily rocking underneath the uneven weight Satoru creates. Relentless smacking— skin to skin, hips to ass, the dirty little squelch that comes with it.
There’s a view, but it’s not the city.
“Arch that back some more— yeaahhh, just like that.”
He pounds into you, balls hitting heavy against your clit as he pulls you back to meet each thrust. Moans spill from your lips, taking every single inch he drills into you. The stretch is insane as he works his heavy cock in and out of you like it’s nothing.
If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he can fuck. He can go on for hours, put you in any position, have you begging and crying, dwindle you down to nothing but a babbling mess from how many orgasms he can work out of you.
He wears you out.
Yet still, at the end of every night—
“Kay’. We’re done here, you can leave now.”
You are so fucking mean.
The first time Satoru heard those words come out of your mouth, he was distraught. How dare you throw him out after the backshots he had given you?! He made you cum so hard you cried! Then you just throw him out of your apartment like some useless whore– like he was nothing but a fucking slut! He had more to offer than just his dick, he’ll have you know.
Now he’s a little less emotional and more…
“You sure? I could stay longer and help you with chores… or something.”
You look around your room, which is spotless aside from his t-shirt and jeans scattered on the floor. “Sure. Why don’t you start by picking up your clothes, putting them on, and then getting out?”
“Oh, come on. Seriously?” he throws his head back and groans rather childishly. “That’s a little rude, no?”
“So was the way you were talking to your little girlfriend on the phone earlier,” you hop off the bed and throw on a big t-shirt that said Modelo on it.
Satoru gets one final look at your ass as you do so and finds himself getting oddly jealous, wondering if the shirt was actually yours or if it belonged to an ex. He ends up telling himself it’s yours, ignoring that you’ve told him how much you hated beer in the past. Delusional? Perhaps, but he’d rather not hurt his own feelings right now.
“Carmen’s not my girlfriend,” he huffs out a laugh as he tries to explain, “I don’t even know why she called me. We haven’t fucked in months.”
He also tried to tell you that he hasn’t slept with anyone since he started sleeping with you, but you didn’t seem to care much about either. The entire time, you were just throwing his clothes at him while he absentmindedly got dressed. He continues to yap away once he’s up and fully dressed, so you grab him by the wrist and start walking towards the door.
“And you wouldn’t believe all the shit the guys have given me for turning girls down. One of them started calling me Celibate Satoru, can you believe that?”
“I sure can.” You open the door, walk around him, and start pushing him out.
“They don’t even know— assholes, they’d take it all back so fast if they saw you,” he huffs out a laugh, trying to cope with the fact that he’s not allowed to tell anybody about you two.
You laugh with him. “You better hope they don’t, ‘cause if they do–”
“You’ll bite my dick off– yeah, yeah. I know.” You never said you’d bite his dick off. Satoru turns around when he’s fully out of the door to reveal the dopey grin on his face. “So, same time next week?”
“Yup! Bye Gojo.”
He scoffs. “I thought I told you to call me Sa–”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence. You shut the door in his face.
Gojo was a nice guy… at least to you, he was. You’re sure a lot of others would say the complete opposite, judging by the way he snapped at the girl earlier for calling him and telling her to lose his number. You felt sorry for her and also felt thankful that you didn’t have to deal with a guy like him when you were 21.
You tried not to reflect too much, it’d just end with you being disappointed in yourself for even letting him into your apartment in the first place. It’s all for fun, but still, you should know better.
Satoru’s a piece of work. Comes from a family swimming in money and has never been told no in his life. He’s impulsive. Very hedonistic, very immature— some people grow out of it, but you have a feeling he’ll never change since he’s never had to work hard for anything in his life.
He is the last person you’d ever want to date, and for someone who usually dated older men— preferably men like his rich father— fucking a frat boy was just embarrassing on your part.
It’s too bad he’s genuinely one of the best fucks of your life— add in the dick piercing, the stamina that came with being a rugby player, and the fact that he spends every moment with you wanting to please you, and he was hard to get rid of.
You met Satoru at the gym. You’d think he’d go to the one at his university, but no, he just had to get a membership at the luxury gym that’s on the other side of town. The only reason why you chose to get a membership there, rather than the more affordable gym down the street, was so that you could avoid annoying ass kids.
Spoiler: It didn’t work.
He didn’t approach you right away. It started with a couple of stares here and there, all of which you pretended not to see since his attention was the last thing you wanted. You can admit that if he were a little older, you would’ve indulged, but it was clear he was a college student, given how he’s worn t-shirts and hoodies with his university’s name on them. Most professional settings wouldn’t allow piercings either— he’s covered in them. One on his nose, one on his eyebrow, multiple on his ears, and a tongue ring. Not to mention the one he surprised you with when he first came over.
Of course, pretending not to notice an attention whore like Satoru Gojo didn’t work, and you soon found out just how annoyingly persistent he can be.
He started going to the gym at the same time as you. It felt like the machines he used just got closer and closer to you with each visit, up until he boldly used the treadmill right next to you one day— you weren’t having that, by the way, and got off less than a minute later. You could be talking to a trainer or one of the staff members, and he’d shimmy his way into the conversation just to get you to look at him and say something, but his attempts were met with you excusing yourself.
It got to a point where he didn’t even care about what was said, he just wanted your attention, good or bad. When he finally did get it, it was neither. You were tired of him before he even opened his mouth.
Imagine this: the annoying little shit coincidentally goes into the sauna at the same time as you, even though you could’ve sworn you saw him walking out the door with his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. How he managed to strip down into nothing but his slutty little rugby shorts in so little time? You have no clue. His knee was all scraped up though, so it was safe to assume that he fell during the process.
You gave him a curt smile and closed your eyes.
He still opened his mouth.
“Great sauna, isn’t it?”
Did he just deepen his voice? Christ.
The awkward and pathetic attempt at small talk never made you want to murder yourself more in that moment. You tried not to sound as annoyed as you were when you let out a sigh.
“It is,” you murmured back, closing your eyes again in hopes that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.
“I love coming here— nice little escape from everything,” he blissfully said.
You couldn’t imagine what the hell that brat needed to escape from. If only you could say the same, you’ve spent more time dodging him than you have working out the past three weeks.
“Name's Satoru, by the way,” he flashed you a smile.
You’re not a heartless wretch, so you threw him a bone and told him your name, too. Which was a mistake, the one thing you’ve learned is to never feel sorry for Satoru, give him an inch and he’ll shamelessly take a mile. Minutes later, you’re internally groaning. You hated how smooth he was when asking if you wanted to grab drinks later that night. All the charm and charisma that oozed out of him would put any narcissist to shame.
“Did you seriously follow me into the sauna just to ask me out?”
He had to pause because that’s not what you were supposed to say, but he was too emotionally invested at that point to give up.
“Maybe,” he chirps, averting his gaze for a moment. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be weird, though.”
You smile as your eyes scan him from top to bottom, more so out of judgment than interest. “Stripping down into nothing but the male version of booty shorts isn’t weird?”
“Ugh— ok, yeah, fine— maybe it is a little weird,” he sighs, throwing a towel over his shoulders as an attempt to cover up. “Let's just.. Forget about that. Yeah?” You continue to just stare at him, and he clears his throat. “I’d still love to take you out sometime and get to know you a little better. Whatcha think? My treat.”
Age doesn’t matter, you’ll fold too once you see what he’s hiding under his “booty shorts”. Everyone does.
You cross your arms and lean back on the wooden bench. “I’m sorry– how old are you again?”
“I’m graduating this year,” he proudly says, making your face drop in disbelief— he’s well aware that he’s too young for you, and he’s still trying?
“Right.” The judgment in your tone was loud and clear, continuing to look at him as if he were a harmless spider— there’s no fear or concern, just peeved at how it managed to find its way into your vicinity. “So you’re 21…” You tried pulling more information out of him, “since that’s the age you need to be to order a drink.”
“Soon,” he continues to tiptoe around the truth. “Everyone knows me, though. Nobody's gonna check my I.D.”
Besides, he has a fake. He’s had one since he was 16.
“Oh wow.”
You still didn’t sound very impressed, not that it stopped him. He somehow was able to go home with your number in his phone that day, mainly because he was starting to annoy you, and giving him your number was the easiest way to get him to stop— harmless spider, remember? He was probably more of a gnat at that point, though, but harmless nonetheless.
From that point going forward, you ignored him at the gym and his text messages. You could go on your phone and scroll for a minute before seeing a text sent from your end. Now that you think about it, you only texted him back once.
Unknown Number: i feel like im being edged rn 😔 what’s a man gotta do to get a text back??
You: typing…
You:
You: typing…
You: turn 21
Unknown Number: bet
You read that response and immediately regretted it.
He came back a month later, the day after his birthday, and you unfortunately gave in.
And by giving in, you met him halfway and asked if he wanted to come over. He was hot, but there was no way in hell you wanted to be seen in public with him. Being a man as easy as Satoru, he said yes and spent the entire night putting you in every single position he’s ever imagined having you in. You swear he hit every room on purpose— just bending you over every surface and folding you up in every position.
You’ve never had someone throw you around that much before. He fucked you like it was some god-given right. You were so far gone that you would’ve done anything he told you to; you’re just glad his only goal that night was to impress you.
And he did, hence why you are still letting him come over a couple of times a week. Maybe more, maybe less.
He’s tried to get you to come over to his place before, to which you refused for obvious reasons, and berated him enough to make him never ask you a question as insulting as that ever again.
He’s also tried to coordinate your gym visits in the past.
It was a month into whatever little arrangement you had— you say that because you’ve never made an agreement, aside from telling him to never talk to you, talk about you, or approach you in public.
It would come as a surprise to no one if he spent the whole day there just waiting for you to show up.
He didn’t even give you a chance to go into the locker and put your things away before attempting to walk up to you. You had just walked past the front desk— head down, phone up— and felt like there was something off, and what do you know? He was walking in a straight line towards you as if you hadn’t banned him from speaking to you in public.
Luckily, the women's locker room was directly to your left, so you turned and walked there as fast as your legs could take you. You were pissed, slamming your duffel bag down onto one of the benches to spend a minute or two pacing back and forth. There was no way in hell you were going home, so you pulled up with messages with him and sent him a text.
You: Do not fucking embarrass me.
You: Don’t even come near me.
S. Gojo: fine .
It wasn’t another 20 minutes until you finally stepped out of the locker room, mostly ready to spend the next 30 minutes working out. Usually, it’s 45 minutes to an hour, but you gave yourself some grace, even though you really should’ve been getting the most out of your membership with how pricey it was.
The first 20 minutes were fine— peaceful. You ended up letting your guard down as you fell under the assumption that Satoru left, given how he was nowhere to be found. Then, 2 minutes into using the stairmaster, someone got on the one right next to you, despite the entire row being empty.
He was met with a scowl. The only response he had for it was throwing his palms out and grimacing right back at you, as if to say, I’m not doing anything wrong.
Minutes later, he’s reaching over and grabbing your water bottle to take a sip from. Mind you, he already had one with him. It had more water in it than yours.
That was the moment you knew Satoru really wasn’t shit.
He casually gave it back with a smile, trying to act all cute and be funny, so you sent your water bottle flying at his big head.
“Ow!” he frowns, rubbing the side of his head, having absolutely no right to look as shocked as he did. “That hurt!”
“Suck it up,” you snapped at him in a hushed tone. “You’re lucky I didn’t lodge it down your throat and drown you.”
“Why would you do either?!” he threw his arms out.
“I don’t know— why would you reach over and drink from my water bottle when you have your own?!”
“Because I wanted water that had some of your backwash in it??” he says, as if it should’ve been obvious.
To this day, you still don’t know if he was trying to throw you off or if he was being serious.
“If I hear one more word come out of your mouth while I’m here, even if you’re 10 feet away and talking to someone else, I’m fucking blocking you.”
“. . .” You could see the panic in his eyes as his face dropped. “Okay— 10 feet away is fucking crazy—”
“Stop. Talking.”
He opens his mouth, quickly decides he’d rather not find out if you were bluffing or not, and closes it.
You hated being strict with people— you had no other choice but to be strict with Satoru. You could draw a line, explicitly tell him not to cross it and why, and he’d walk right up to it and tap his toe on the other side, just to see if you’d say anything.
With the way you talk about him and talk to him, it’d be easy to assume that you hated him— you complain about the shit he does, you yell at him often, you look at him at times and start to wonder if he was just a sign sent by god to finally get therapy. But you don’t dislike him, let alone hate him.
On the occasion that you don’t kick him out right after you two fuck, he’s really not that bad to be around. If circumstances were different, you wouldn’t mind being friends with him. He’s easy to talk to, easy to get along with when he’s not actively and purposely fucking around and finding out. You honestly enjoy talking to him here and there.
Truly.
Except for when he’s talking about anything frat-related. More often than not, it’s dumb and genuinely a waste of your time to listen to. Not to mention the fact that you don’t need any more reminders of who you’ve been welcoming into your home.
You were pushing thirty for Christ's sake. It'd be one thing if he were just a one-night stand, but he’s not. He raids your pantry when you’re not looking and, on multiple occasions, has purposely left his boxers behind as some sort of parting gift.
It’s gotten easier with time— the embarrassment that washes over you when he says something stupid, that is. Like whatever went down at some party he threw or some joke one of his “brothers” told him. It’s still a waste of your time, but you’ve grown to just let him talk about it rather than shut him down to avoid that pang of guilt you sometimes get when you’re around him.
There’s the disappointment and the embarrassment, and lately, there’s the odd form of pity you have for him. You’ve always known you were going to have to let Gojo down one day and cut things off completely, you’re not quite sure how he’d take it, though.
There was some hope that he’d get bored with you and move on to someone new, but that’s slowly diminishing. He’s volunteered to get tested for STDs weekly and sends you the results. He hasn’t slept with anyone else, either, which is shocking. You’ve gotten a glimpse of his phone and his messages, all of which were unopened texts from the girls he’s probably led on in the past— ignoring them all for a woman who does the same to him more than half the time.
Sometimes you wonder if he notices that, too. He has to. You say he’s stupid all the time, but he’s smarter than he lets on.
—
S. Gojo: how’s my pretty girl doing?? ((:
You: what do u want
S. Gojo: 😭damn not even a question mark?? I didn’t even ask u for anything 😔
You: i can tell when u want something. now what is it
S. Gojo: can i come over after practice today? pretty please
S. Gojo: it ends at 3 today
You: im not even home
S. Gojo: ik i have a key
You: you took my spare key?
You: give it back
S. Gojo: today? (:
You: im not even home by then. I don’t want u there, you’re gonna make a mess
S. Gojo: wtf? I never make a mess
You: what do you even wanna come over for
S. Gojo: i don’t wanna be home later
You: why
S. Gojo: there’s a few sorority girls coming over and they don’t like me
You: why
S. Gojo: it’s just bc of some bet during freshman years
S. Gojo: they’re not over it
You: pig
S. Gojo: i didn’t even tell you what it was!
You: please don’t
You: but ya, no. go to the library or something
S. Gojo: PLEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEE
S. Gojo: FUCK i’ll have takeout ready for you when you get off work ffs
S. Gojo: have some compassion these bitches are gonna try to CHOP my DICK off PLEASE
You: maybe you never deserved one to begin with
S. Gojo: BRO???
You: kiddinggg
You: have some pad thai ready for me. I also expect the place to be vacuumed
S. Gojo: i got u
S. Gojo: i can do your laundry too if you want
You: stop trying to sniff my panties you fucking freak
S. Gojo: ):
You’re home at 5:15 on the dot, and you’re met with the lovely smell of all-purpose cleaner despite only telling Satoru to vacuum. So naturally, you’re in a good mood when you walk into the living room and hang your purse up in the hallway.
Satoru’s on the couch, turning to look at you and doing that stupid nod he does when he doesn’t feel like verbally greeting someone.
You slip out of your heels and walk up. “Did you clean the kitchen?”
“A little,” he hums, taking the opportunity to pretty much eye fuck you since you don’t pay much attention to him as you look into the kitchen.
“What do you want?” you ask suspiciously, turning to look at him lounging back on your couch, half-naked. He’s got nothing but a pair of socks and rugby shorts on, and you can’t help but take a look at his thighs. You don’t ask why his titties are out on display, though, knowing he’d make a comment about how hard he worked cleaning the place.
“Nothin’,” he shrugs, feigning innocence. The slight twitch of his lip right after gives him away, not that you give it much attention. “How was work?”
“Long,” you yawn. “Slow, too— felt like I was on my phone the entire time.”
He tilts his head, getting ready to fuck with you despite it not even being 5 minutes since you walked through the door. “Are you complaining about doing nothing at work today?”
“Uh, yeah,” you mimic his tone. “I hate looking at the clock all day.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I’m gonna remember this the next time you complain about work being too busy.”
You smile and hum. “Do that, and I’m shoving my socks down your throat.”
“Kinky.” You start to walk away, and Satoru takes the opportunity to reach over the couch, biting his lip as he strikes a palm over your ass. “What else are you tryna do to me?”
“Choke you,” you boredly say as you walk into your room, but end up smiling when you hear him laugh. You come out a couple of minutes later in a pair of shorts and a tank top. “Where’s the food?”
“The fridge,” he responds, seemingly distracted.
Only for him to grab your wrist right before you walk past behind him.
You whip your head around and click your tongue. “What?” you whine, eyes narrowing as you shoot him an irritated look.
“How hungry are you right now?” he asks, tongue in cheek as he keeps a firm grip on your wrists.
“Hungry enough.”
“Starving?” There’s an obnoxious glint in his eyes as he asks.
You scoff. “Does it fucking matter?”
“Mmmmmm, a little.” He blatantly checks you out as he hums, not struggling to hold on to your wrist at all. He leans over the couch to get a better look at your shorts, his other hand reaching forward to snap your shorts against your skin. “I like these.”
“Let me guess, you’d like them better on the floor.”
“Something like that— come here,” He stifles a laugh, pulling you closer until you're up against the couch. He snakes an arm around your waist to keep you from leaving, pressing kisses all over your chest. “Been waiting for you forever– give me a minute or two.”
“You expect me to believe it’ll just be a minute or two?” You smile, trying to keep your breath from hitching as he gets closer to your neck.
“Mhm. It’s a lie, though.” He places one last kiss against your collarbone, then pulls a hum out of you as he licks a slow, fat stripe up your neck. He tops it off with a couple of kisses along your jaw before nipping at your ear. “How about I work up that appetite a little, hm?”
Your lids grow heavy, each word growing breathier than the last with each kiss and touch. “My stomach’s gonna start hurting.”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs, running his big hand down your back to your ass, giving it a squeeze before his palm lands on it. “You won’t be thinking about it.”
He steps over the couch and starts nudging you towards your room, dick print against the fabric of his shorts on full display.
“No?”
“Nope,” the grin on his face grows, “I’ll keep you distracted.”
And distracted you were.
Whining as you trembled and clenched around his cock while he worked it into you. You’re at the edge of the bed— bent over for him, back in the craziest arch as he gives you the deepest strokes. The round metal studs under his tip add the right amount of pressure as it drags over your gummy spot.
He leans back, suppressing a laugh at the sight of your fucked out face and the creamy ring already starting to grow around his base. He’s barely done anything, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he saw drool stains right where your face is pressed up against. It’s always like this, your attitude just magically disappearing the moment he gets near your pussy. Doesn’t matter if it’s his dick, his fingers, his tongue— they’ve all made the miracle of getting you to say please happen.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, just mesmerized at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you. His attention only gets pulled away once he hears a soft, drawn-out moan leave your lips, his hands unconsciously moving up to your hips for him to knead. “You alright?”
“Mhm— go faster.” The demand sounds so sweet falling from your lips, how could he say no?
He rests a knee against the bed and leans over your body. Chest pressed up against your back, caging you in. You rest your head on his forearm, unknowingly letting him get a full view of the tears he’s about to give you. He picks up the pace, angling himself just right with each thrust, watching your eyebrows slightly pinch as your breathing picks up.
“Can’t believe you wanted to wait for this,” he starts to poke fun at you, and it somehow goes straight to your core. “The hell were you thinkin’, huh?”
“I don’t know,” you murmur.
“Were you thinking at all?”
“Shut up.” You get whinier with the change of pace. “Can you just– mmh yeah.”
“Yeah?” He grins as you lose your train of thought, rolling his hips nice and slow, working his tip right over that spot that has you curling your toes. “Like that?”
“Mhm,” you hum, fingers starting to dig into his bicep as the praises slowly fall from your mouth. “Feels so good.”
“I knoww– you’re droolin’ on my arm already,” he stifles a laugh as he mocks you, brushing some hair out of your face to grab your chin, turning your head toward him.
He leans down to kiss you, and it’s nothing short of messy. It's all tongue and wet smacks once he held you down and crashed his lips into yours, just rough and hungry. Greed is what comes to mind once you pull away— lips all swollen and covered in spit, out of breath, heat creeping up your neck.
It’s just selfish— who grabs people like that?
The hand on your jaw wraps around your neck, and you soon find yourself taking in a sharp breath as Satoru crashes his lips into yours again. His hips continue to rock into you, grinding every inch of himself up against your gummy walls, trying to knock the air out of you as he tries to take it for himself.
He bites your bottom lip, and you’re giggling as he slowly pulls back, dying out at your throat once he gets back to work. His shallow thrusts grow deep, making your eyes start to glaze over as the fat head of his cock hits and rubs against a spot you’re sure only he can reach.
“Ready?” he murmurs in your ear.
“What are you–”
He bites your bottom lip, then starts fucking you like you owed him your soul or something. He drills every single inch of his cock into you, the sharp sounds of his hips striking against your ass cutting through the air, nearly bringing you to tears from how overwhelming it all is.
“F-Fuck!” you choke out a whine, shoving your face down on the bed, unable to keep up with how fast he’s going. Your cunt stretches around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing around his length as he pounds you into the bed. Low groans slip through his lips as he sees a mess of slick and cream starting to coat his shaft.
He goes faster. The obscene wet slaps of him pounding your pussy and his heavy balls slapping against your clit grow louder, messier. You’re clawing at your sheets and holding back choked moans each time he slams his tip against your cervix. Your legs start to tremble, struggling to keep them open when each thrust pushes you forward with all the force behind them.
You start to feel something in your core begin to wrap up and coil, and you are not ready for it. You find yourself crawling forward, trying to close your thighs, all without even realizing it. Satoru lets out a laugh that fades into a low groan as your walls squeeze and tremble around him.
He teases you as he drags you back by your hips, his ragged voice dripping in amusement.
“You running from me, baby? Where’s this pussy goin’, huh?” He nudges your thighs back apart with his knee, pulling you back on his cock and holding you in place, hips flush against your ass as he lazily grinds into you.
“Yeah, c'mere— m’not done with you yet.” he rasps, picking up the pace back up again until a messy wet squelch can be heard between you as he pounds you out. He presses your back further down into an arch, fucking into you at a deeper angle. “Mmmm— there we go— just stay right there for me.”
“Sa— fuck— t-toru!” Your breath shatters as you gasp, pressure starting to build all over again.
You don’t see the way he smirks when you cry his name like that.
“I know— M’sorry, baby.”
He’s not. A hand slides up your spine to get a fistful of your hair, pulling you up against his chest in one swift go. His pace doesn’t falter as a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you against him while his lips graze the shell of your ear.
“Look how good I’m fuckin’ you, though— looks like you’re about to start crying.” He smiles, feeling you squeeze around him as the messy squelch in between your legs becomes more pronounced.
“T-too much,” you sputter out.
“You should probably cum them,” he offers as if it were a simple solution. “If you want, I can work it out of ya.”
“F-fuck,” you inhale sharply. “Please.”
He lets out a low, pleased hum before he just starts slamming into you, making the bed shake as he starts to knock the absolute wind out of you. His free hand snakes down, slipping down in between your legs until the pads of his fingers find your clit. You tense as he presses on it firmly, breath faltering once he starts rubbing little circles.
His grip around your waist tightens as he keeps going, not minding your nails as they start scratching and digging into his arm. Soon you’re let out a sharp cry, trembling as you start gushing all over his cock.
And the way you pussy clamps down and just starts milking him has his thrust growing sloppy, fucking you both through it.
“Fuck— fuuck,” he lets out a breathy groan, doubling over and nearly squeezing you to death when he starts pumping you full of hot cum, flooding your sensitive walls. He breathes heavy, grinding against you, giving you every last drop. “Shit— that was so fuckin’ good— are you alright?”
You’re lying limp in his arms, nodding weakly, trying to catch your breath. “Uh-huh”
“You’re so shaky right now,” he heaves, gently letting you down on the bed. “I fucked you good this time.”
“Shut up,” you barely snap at him, “Go get me my food, I can’t fucking walk right now.”
“Fuck— I’m sorry. Don’t kick me out.”
“Get me my fucking food.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, putting his boxers on and walking out of your room with a little smile on his face.
. . .
He’s leaning against the fridge as he lets his mind run off for a bit, aside from the microwave whirring in the background, it’s quiet— a rare occurrence for Satoru. He doesn’t snap back to reality until he hears footsteps coming up behind him.
He looks over his shoulder to see you back in the clothes he nearly ripped trying to get off you. And that you’re walking perfectly fine.
“Thought you couldn’t walk,” he points at you, gesturing his finger up and down.
“So did I,” you shrug, wrapping your fingers around the fridge handle and pulling it open to retrieve a white claw. You can physically feel Satoru staring at you, while something in your spirit is telling you that he’s waiting for you to offer him one.
You crack it open as you turn to look at him.
“Can I help you?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Initially, his eyes drift to the drink in your hand and look at it quite longingly. “That looks good.”
“It is good,” you say, then obnoxiously take a sip. “Pairs really well with noodles.”
“I’m sure.” His tones flat as he looks back at the drink.
You have no idea why he’s so set on waiting for you to offer him one, but you eventually do because you’d rather not get into some weird silent war with him. “Would you like one?”
“Yes, I would,” he says with a blissful sigh, reaching into the fridge to get one for himself.
The microwave beeps, you open it, and take the plate out yourself. “You know you can just grab one, right?”
The can cracks and he takes a sip, then nods. “I know, I just wanted you to offer me one.”
“Yeah, you made that pretty obvious,” you laugh and walk to the living room, and Satoru naturally follows. “Do you want some of my food, too?”
“No— appreciate you asking, though.”
“Sure,” you say, before muttering, “weirdo.”
He’s the first one to grab the remote and put something on, taking advantage of the fact that you haven’t pushed him out yet, like you do 60% percent of the time. The 40% is too random for him to be able to tell when it’ll happen next.
You weren’t planning on kicking him out too soon today, though, since he’s currently hiding from an entire group of women.
“Wait, so what did you do to get those girls to hate you?”
“Got dared to homie hop.” He casually shrugs, taking a sip from the can. “Over the course of one weekend.”
“What is wrong with you?” you ask with the utmost disappointment.
He points to himself. “In my defense, I was 18.”
“I guess.” You stifle a laugh before feeding yourself another fork full of food. “I’m surprised they still hate you that much.”
“Yeah, I got dared to do it again last year,” he finally mentions, just as casual as the last time.
You pause for a moment as you try to think of an answer. You never do. “Yeah, I think I’d hate you, too.”
He delusionally brushes you off. “You would’ve loved me. I’m a great friend.”
There's a contemplative look on your face as you tilt your head, thinking of all he’s revealed to you about himself, which is probably just a 3rd of all he’s done. “I’m sure you are.”
“I am,” he scoffs.
“Yeah— that’s what I said.” You laugh, wiping the side of your mouth off with a napkin before throwing it on the empty plate, getting up to put it away.
You're in the kitchen when Satoru raises his voice to say something to you.
“I am your friend, right?” he asks.
You close the dishwasher and walk back out into the living room, there’s a slight pout on his face as he walks for an answer.
“Yeah,” you let out an amused sigh. “You’re my special friend.”
“Yeah?” He sinks further back into the sofa, looking more pleased. “Special enough to talk to outside of here?”
“Fuck no,” you say with zero hesitation, wiping the smile off his face again. “You wouldn’t be special anymore. Is that what you want? You wanna be an average normie?”
There are two things in this world that Satoru would never want to be— average and poor.
He crosses his arms and scoffs. “You really know how to turn a situation around on other people, don’t you? That’s pretty evil, y’know that?”
You feign innocence, looking at him all concerned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever,” he rises from his seat, accepting your evil nature and his role as your special little slut. “Can we shower together?”
You give a bored look, knowing he’s gonna try to get you to scrub his back. “Fine.”
. . .
Tonight’s just like every other Friday night. The bass of the music bouncing off the walls, loud conversations happening in every direction. Most people are having a good time, while some are crying their eyes out over something that’ll seem minuscule a couple years from now. The only thing that’s changed is Satoru hasn’t, and most likely won't, bring a girl up to his room tonight.
For once, all of his attention is on playing his fifth round of beer pong.
The guys will still give him shit for the sudden change, but it was never a bad thing, just odd. They’ve given up on theories as to why after realizing Satoru really wasn’t going to cave and tell them this time around. Not even Suguru. He doesn’t need to ask, though, he knows Satoru is fucking someone. With how secretive he’s been though, he’s most likely sneaking around with someone that’ll get him in trouble if word gets out. Like the wife of one of his father's very affluent and important friends, perhaps? It was on brand for him.
It wasn’t that serious. Suguru will find out, eventually. He just hopes it doesn’t end badly for his friend that’s brought enough scandals for his family, being the problem child he’s always been. Hell, he’s being problematic right now, pulling Suguru out of his thoughts as some poor girl tugs on Satoru’s shirt.
Suguru has no idea what she said to him, but he steps in a little closer, pretending to focus on the game as he listens to whatever his friend has to say. Satoru barely looks at her and responds, not only rudely, but with quite possibly the most ridiculous words Suguru has ever heard come out of his mouth.
“Sorry, sweetheart– I like my women a little more grown.”
Mind you, they were in the same year.
She laughs, there’s still stars in her eyes as she looks at him. “Wait, what?”
He shortens it. “M’not interested.”
“Why?” she asks, eyes growing dull.
And Satoru, having already lost his patience, takes a step back and looks at her from head to toe, looking for another reason. It’s quite embarrassing— standing there and waiting for someone to figure out what they don’t like about you.
“Yeaah, no.” He takes another look at her. “You just don’t do it for me— sorry.”
You’d think it’d be fine since he didn’t point out any of her features, but being told you ‘don’t do it’ for someone that you’ve already fucked doesn’t feel very good, nor does realizing that he completely forgot that they have, multiple times. He’s gotten drunk and fucked a lot of people. Keyword: Drunk. He doesn’t remember most of the time, hence his initial confusion when she threw a drink in his face.
Unfazed, he wipes the remnants of her drink off his face, throwing her off in the process as he treats it like it’s a common occurrence and that he’s used to it (he’s very used to it).
“You just proved my fuckin’ point,” Satoru says, still unimpressed as he takes his shirt off and continues to casually wipe himself off. “Grow up.”
The comment makes her realize he was being dead serious with his original reason for rejecting her, even though he had zero problem with fucking her at the beginning of the year. “Oh fuck you, Gojo,” she ends up cursing at him as she storms off, furious and embarrassed.
“Yeah– not happening!” he laughs and yells back loud enough for her to hear.
Suguru just laughs because fucking called it. He totally was seeing someone older, and Satoru's response gave it away. Suguru doesn’t mention it, though. “You coulda been a little nicer, y’know?”
“Whatever,” he waves him off, knowing he could’ve been ruder, but chose not to. “I’ll probably never see her again after graduation, anyway.”
Suguru shrugs. “You never know.”
Satoru ruffles his hair with the semi-damp t-shirt in his hand, wondering why his friend decided to embrace his inner Gandhi when he’s just as bad as him. Satoru literally watched him tell a girl to stop crying after he cut things off with her, then added salt to the wound by giving her some speech about how she wouldn’t run after a snake and explain how being bitten made her feel. Suguru wasn’t technically wrong, but he did not have to say all that. With that being said, he wasn’t in the mood to listen to Suguru lecture him any more though, and lets the comment go.
“I’m gonna go wash the rest of this shit off,” he says, referring to the sheer pink stain on his hair.
Suguru pats his back a couple of times as he continues to laugh. “Have fun with that. Try not to run into her or friends.”
Satoru hoped not, that mini-meltdown was enough for him. He wasn’t stumbling or anything, but having to walk through crowds to get to his room made him realize he was drunker than he realized, not that it made him feel any remorse for the words he said. They did not warrant getting a drink thrown in his face.
The first thing he does when he gets to his room is kick out a couple making out on his bed, throwing a couple of insults and threats their way as they scurry out of his room. Then he walks into his bathroom to wash his hair off in the sink, which leads to him completely stripping down in frustration and hopping in the shower, in hopes that it’d sober him up a bit.
It doesn’t— it just makes him want to call it a night.
He dries himself off and throws on a pair of boxers and sweats before sitting down on his bed with his phone in hand. His thumb hovers over the call button as he stares at your contact. The room continues to spin as he wonders if you were even awake. It was pushing midnight.
After spending way too much time wondering if you’d answer, his thumb hits the screen. The phone rings once. Twice. Then a third time.
“What do you think you’re doing calling me this late?” you immediately grill him, your smooth and unhurried tone making you sound more amused than anything.
He smiles as he stifles a laugh. “I can’t call you and say what’s up now?”
“People don’t usually call someone at midnight to say what's up.”
“M’not like other people,” he chuckles, though you know deep down inside, he wouldn’t dare put himself in the same category as a regular person. There isn’t one mirror he’s walked by and hasn’t looked at— the way Satoru looks at his own reflection could send anyone into a crisis, wondering if their spouses really did love them as much as they claimed.
“Yeah, you’re real different,” you respond blandly, coming off as trying to knock him down a peg, when really you’re just trying to move on. “Anyways, what do you want?”
“You should let me come over,” he doesn’t hesitate to say, slurring his words slightly.
“No.”
He pulls his phone away from his ear and looks at it with his brows pinched together, all hurt from how you didn’t even bother thinking about it before giving him an answer.
“Why not?” he grumbles, finding himself more offended than usual. “I miss you.”
He’s reminded that you don’t actually hate him when you begin to laugh at how endearing he can be, even when he’s just complaining. “I saw you two days ago.”
“What can I say, baby?” he murmurs, the stupid grin on his face widening when he hears you click your tongue. “You make it hard not to with that tight little p—”
Are you drunk right now?” You cut him off, wiping the smile right off that little pervert's face.
“Maybe.”
He hears you let out a disgusted scoff on the other side of the phone. “Ew, no. I don’t wanna fuck you when you’re all drunk and sloppy.”
At first, he lets out this noise that can only be described as what a pout would sound like if you could hear it. “First of all, I’m not sloppy. Second, I wasn’t asking to fuck, just let me spend the night. It’s loud here— buncha’ hooligans running around.”
“So you can fuck with my sleep?”
“Baby, I would never fuck with your beauty sleep,” he swears. “I’m a beast— not a fuckin’ monster.”
“You are such a fucking loser.” You pinch your nosebridge as you sigh and mutter under your breath. “You’ll be fine. Just take another shot and put some earplugs in.”
“I don’t have any!”
“Headphones then,” you curtly say. “Anyways, I’m going to bed now—”
“No, wait—”
“Good night~”
Click.
Satoru’s left staring at the wall in disbelief, jaw all the way to the floor. Surely you could’ve offered him a couch— but you didn’t bother, and the thought adds to the betrayal that’s already exacerbated from all the shots he’s taken earlier. It doesn’t go away, it just simmers once he’s processed the fact that you basically told him that he could suffer and fucking die, for all you cared, before hanging up.
The music’s so loud that the walls are fucking shaking, there’s no point in noise cancelling headphones when he can feelhow loud it is. His eyes dart between his phone, his dresser, and the door before finally getting up with an irritated sigh.
“Fuck this.”
. . .
Instead of sleeping, like you said you would when hanging up on Satoru, you continued to watch what you put on the tv prior to answering your phone. Though with how late it was, your eyes inevitably grew heavier with each blink, and you found yourself beginning to doze off.
Until a knock on the door and the muffled sound of your name being called snaps you right back to reality.
“I swear to god if that’s—” you begin murmuring to yourself as you walk up to the door, cutting yourself off because no shit it’s Satoru. You can’t think of anybody else who would still come over despite being told no.
You swing the door open, annoyed that it doesn’t swing outwards, it would’ve been nice to hit him with it. He’s leaning against the entryway to stop himself from swaying in place, as carefree as ever.
“What are you doing here?!”
Immediately, he begins to beg. “You have got to let me sleep here— some nasty couple fucked on my bed and there’s a group of psychos hunting me down with pitchforks.”
He was not going back there, and if a little truth-twisting is what it takes to get you to let him, then so be it.
Your face twists in annoyance. “Hunt you down for what?!”
“For turning one of them down.” He throws his arms out, pretending to be outraged. “Threw a drink in my face and everything just because I wouldn’t fuck her! And now my bed smells like rotten fish—”
“Just get inside,” you snap at him, feeling an incoming headache starting to form from his theatrics.
“Thank you.”
Despite showering and brushing his teeth, you can still smell some of the alcohol radiating off of him as he walks past you. Irritated, you shut the door a little too harshly, missing the way the man flinched as he stood there and waited for you. You completely ignore him, walking to the coffee table and picking up the remote to turn the T.V off. You walk off to your room after, with Satoru following right behind you like a lost puppy.
The decorative pillows get plucked off the bed one by one. The only reason why he doesn’t ask if you need help with anything is that he is a little too scared to ask. You pull the duvet back and whip your head around to look at him.
“Get in,” you order, and he quickly walks around to the other side, pulling his shirt over his head and leaving his sweats on. “And do not wake me up tonight.”
“Kay’,” he says quietly, slipping the covers.
You follow, after killing the lights, sighing as you lay your head back and close your eyes. He awkwardly lies there at first, arms pulling the blanket up to his chest, staring at the ceiling. It’s not how he sleeps, and frankly, he is really fucking uncomfortable. He’s also scared to move right now.
But Satoru is Satoru, and at the very last minute, turns and snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He slides a leg in between yours, and you open your mouth to protest, only to get cut off by his slightly nervous voice.
“Good night.”
. . .
Satoru wakes up twice.
Once at 6:00 am to a pounding headache. He got up to look for an over the counter painkiller. Luckily, he found some in the first cabinet he opened in your kitchen and downed more than he should’ve before getting back in bed, throwing an arm and a leg over you, and falling back asleep.
Then again, at 11:00 am, when he hears some shuffling around the room and realizes you are no longer next to him.
He opens one eye and mumbles, “Where are you going?”
You’re in a hurry as you put a pair of socks on. “To a pilates class.”
“Can I come?” he pops his head up and asks, struggling to open both eyes.
There’s an incredulous look on your face when you pause and look at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, you look like a fucking mess right now.” He didn’t really need to hear that, he already figured it out since he feels like one right now. “Two, I don’t need you sitting alone in the corner, watching me for an hour straight.”
“That’s mean as fuck.”
“Not one lie was told,” you argue back, getting the last sock on and rising to your feet. “I’m not kicking you out just yet, so you can stay if you want.”
“Oh, I fuckin’ will.” It comes out as if kicking him out was never an option to begin with, earning himself a little side eye that he was too busy stretching his arms out to notice. You quickly let it go, figuring the hangover was doing a number on him. “Do you have food?”
“Yeah, just look around in the fridge.” You look at your watch, then throw your bag over your shoulder after realizing you’re just barely running on time. “I’ll be back in like an hour.”
“Kay’,” he yawns, lying back against the pillow and closing his eyes once you're out of view.
As much as his head hurts, he’s glad he’s suffering here and not at the house. It’s quiet, your bed’s comfy, time actually feels like it’s running slow for once. There are another 15 minutes of peace before it is ruined by the ring of his phone.
Before he reaches for it on the nightstand, he takes a few seconds to shove his face into the pillow and let out a slew of curses. He picks up the phone and answers, as if his head wasn’t pounding more than ever.
It’s Suguru, who’s not as concerned as he is confused. “Hey, so— you’re not home.”
“M’not,” Satoru mumbles.
Suguru gives him room to explain, but speaks again when he realizes Satoru’s not going to take any of it. “Where are you then?” Again, not concerned, just confused.
“At a friend’s,” Satoru vaguely says. Even in his current fucked up state, he still remembers that you don’t want him talking about you at all.
“...and this is the friend that you’re not fucking and avoiding everyone for, right?”
He lets out a laugh. “Exactly.”
At least Suguru’s smart and is able to read between the lines, meaning that was enough information for him. “Alright.” He laughs with him. “I’ll let you go then. Have fun with your friend.”
“I will.”
Right after he hangs up, he hears another notification go off that’s not from his phone. He hears the ping a couple more times and quickly realizes it’s your phone hiding under the sheets. You were in too much of a rush to realize you forgot to bring it with you.
Satoru’s not one to look through someone else’s phone. He never has, never cared to, never felt the need to. So fighting the urge not to was not only something new, but incredibly fucking difficult. It’s literally right in his hand. He even knows your passcode from the one time he watched you unlock it because his memory’s perfect.
One minute. He’ll just give himself one minute to take a peek.
. . .
It’s been several.
Putting it down, while he’s in the middle of scrolling through a particular conversation, feels impossible. Even when he knows he’s just ruining his own morning by looking at it, he continues to read and make mental notes.
His names Shiu. 37 years old. Moderately successful.
Boring as fuck.
He can tell when someone’s forcing themselves to keep a conversation alive, and can’t wrap his head around why you’d even bother when it’s over shit you have zero interest in. Shiu hasn’t even complimented you once. Nothing about you physically, not even the bare minimum of making a comment about how he enjoys talking to you, since it’s you carrying all of these dry, meaningless conversations.
It's like he just expects you to talk to him.
He continues to scroll, getting closer to the more recent messages, and Satoru finally sees something interesting. Not for you or Shiu, but for him. Reservations for your date next weekend. The first date.
And also your last.
. . .
Before you met him, Shiu wasn’t someone you’d ever imagined yourself being with. He’s calm, quiet, and more of a listener than he was a talker. Not much of a joker or a gossiper.
He was just stable. Rooted. Shiu is a man who couldn’t be moved.
He was a safe choice. A smart one. A mellow man with a successful career. Given your track record of failed relationships with men that you chose based on how exciting you found them, maybe it was time to be smarter.
Some may say it was settling, but you say it’s being practical and choosing what’s best for you.
After a few weeks of casual texting, you were finally having dinner with him tonight. You weren’t exactly excited, but you weren’t nervous either— maybe this is him rubbing off of you.
You’re not sure, honestly.
It feels like there’s something missing, and in its place is the weight of something that refuses to show itself to you, as if its sole purpose was to burden you with confusion.
You take one last look at yourself before you leave, smoothing your hand over the long, tight black dress you chose to wear. Flattering, not too revealing. The same for your shoes, just simple black kitten heels.
At the last minute, Satoru manages to squeeze his way into your mind as you randomly recall the last time you saw him, which was exactly a week ago. The only thing that was off was his supernatural ability to bounce back from a hangover in under an hour. He was fine by the time you got home— at least fine enough to follow you into the bathroom for some shower sex.
You haven’t heard from him since he went home that day. You should be relieved, you wanted him to get bored with you and pull away, yet here you are, wondering why you haven’t heard from him.
. . .
Shiu wasn’t a man who couldn’t be moved— that would require being passionate about something, and so far, he’s about as dry as a matchstick.
And maybe there is something that he’s passionate about, but you doubt it. It’s not necessarily a complaint, just a change in the way you saw him. Shame on you for building up a false idea of him in your head.
At least he’s still calm and quiet— you’re just hoping that all there is to him.
As for now, Shiu was like a constant stream of water that never changed in temperature. He was a place on earth where the weather never changed. A solid 70 degrees, every single day. Acceptable. Easy to digest. Nothing out of the ordinary is ever likely to happen with him.
He’s still a safe choice.
You’re not exactly sure how it’d be what’s best for you, though. You liked surprises— they turned an ordinary day into a day worth remembering— a life without them was just a forgotten past and pointless future.
You could be acting a little dramatic over it right now, but you are honestly sick and fucking tired of getting absolutely nowhere with all the guys you’ve dated and spoken to.
Which is why you push yourself to consider that Shiu could just be a little shy, it's only 15 minutes into your date after all. You remind yourself that opening up takes time, for reasons that make only you feel better.
You haven’t had a quarter life crisis yet, but learning that you’ve spent all this time swinging sledge hammers and wrecking balls at a safe that’s been empty from the start might finally take you there.
You take a sip of your wine and set it back down. “Do you know what you’re gonna order?”
He slowly shakes his head, humming indecisively. “Not yet.”
You wait for him to say something else, but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t. “You mentioned it’s your 9th time coming here. Do you have any favorites that you reorder?”
He hums again. “Nah. The food here’s decent, but I haven’t had anything that’s stood out to me just yet.”
It’s not often people leave you speechless, especially on first dates, but here you are. Tight lipped, eye threatening to twitch.
“Wow— you’re 9th time here, and you still haven’t found a dish that left you satisfied at the end of the meal?”
You’re really hoping he backtracks and corrects you. Coming to a restaurant you don’t like that many times was one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever heard.
“Not yet,” he smiles and shakes his head, as if wasting his time and money on a restaurant he didn’t like was just a silly little quirk of his. “Maybe today will be the day.”
Why the fuck would he take you here?
“Fingers crossed,” you force out a light laugh, feeling your patience start to fade. “So you’re just gonna keep coming here until you’ve gone through the entire menu?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he chuckles, not catching the slight irritation in your tone. “What can you do, you know?”
“I mean… you can always try new restaurants,” you suggest.
“Nah.” He waves a hand as if that's doing too much. “Easy to stay here. I already know what to expect.”
It took the amount of discipline a sergeant had to hold back on saying that this wasn’t the doctor's office or the fucking barber shop.
You can absolutely check other places out.
Does this guy not understand free will exists?
“Makes sense,” you lie, pushing out all the enthusiasm you’re able to put forward. “No point in fixing something if it’s not broken, you know?”
“Exactly,” he proudly nods.
“There you two are!”
…You were going to kill yourself if it’s who you think it is.
At first, you ignored the familiar voice and instead took an extra big sip of wine.
He hates being ignored though, so instead of pulling up a seat between you and your date as he had originally planned, he sits right next to Shiu and smiles at the way you instantly freeze.
You hate to admit how good he looked tonight. His hair’s styled for once, loosely brushed back with some expensive styling cream. You can’t help but notice how much sharper his eyes look with his hair out of his face. More rough and intimidating. He was in a white button up, tailored to perfection, rolled up at his elbows, leaving the top buttons of the shirt unbuttoned to show off the chain he always wore. Grey tweed trousers, also tailored to perfection.
“My bad— ran into some traffic on the way here.”
Satoru turns to Shiu, who’s even more confused than you, and holds his hand out for a handshake, giving him a veryformal introduction.
Afterwards, Satoru proceeds to pluck the menu out of your date's hand.
“Alright, Shiu, what are we getting tonight?”
Shiu is visibly appalled when he looks at you, but doesn’t say anything because he’s never had a stranger do that before. Especially when the stranger’s as eccentric as Satoru.
“I— I don’t know.” Your date stumbles on his words at first from the surprise of Satoru’s sudden appearance. “I didn’t get to finish looking through the menu.”
“Wait— really?”
Satoru looks at his watch and sees how you two have been here for nearly 20 minutes, and he still hasn’t picked something. He doesn’t wait for a response and hands the menu back since he already found what he liked, which sucks for you because now he can direct his attention elsewhere.
He leans back and nods at you, because you haven’t spoken at all yet.
“What’re you getting?” You catch the split second his entire expression darkens. He is fucking pissed.
“The cod and asparagus,” you murmur.
“That’s fucking disgusting,” he says through a smile, playing it off as a joke even though you both know it’s not. “Your palate sucks though, so I’m not surprised.”
“Yeah, no— it’s fucking awful,” you let out a laugh. “I need to start eating better— feels like I’ve been eating nothing but junk the past few months.”
His face drops, and just before he’s about to say something 10x ruder, Shiu cuts in.
“I’m sorry, I’m still confused,” he takes several steps back to about 5 minutes ago, “was there some sort of mix up here? I thought this was a date-date, not a dinner with… friends.” Shiu looks back at you, and you’re no help, you’re just glaring.
“A date?” Satoru huffs out a laugh, making the man look like an idiot for even thinking this was a date. “It’s been dinner this whole time. You’re the one who booked a reservation for four, our other friend couldn’t make it.”
Shiu's face twists in confusion. “What? No, no, no— I booked the reservation under two.”
“No, you didn’t. It was booked under four,” he sadly breaks it to him. “You can go ask the receptionist if you want, but I swear it’s four.”
Shiu gets up from his seat to go talk to the receptionist, because he knows he booked it for two— he’s not fucking crazy.
And it’s true, he’s not. Satoru’s the crazy one here.
He’s still gonna go home believing he is though, since the receptionist got paid to change the booking information and lie to him.
Satoru laughs just thinking about it, then downs the rest of Shiu’s wine, ready to gaslight him over that, too.
Finally, he looks back at you and feels a sick sense of satisfaction. You’re angry… baffled, in complete and utter disbelief— you’re looking at him like you’re two seconds away from jumping over the table and strangling him.
Though in the end, you gather yourself together as you finally ask: “What are you doing here, Satoru?”
“Why the fuck are you on a date with someone right now?” His tone clipped, it sounds like he’s about to throw a fit.
“I—“ you stop for a moment, reminding yourself not to yell. “Satoru, we’re not in a relationship.”
“Fine, then,” he decides to rephrase it, “why are you trying to replace me? And with him? Seriously?!”
“What’s wrong with him?!”
“He looks like a sleazy pornstar from the 80s!”
“Not everything is about looks—“
He laughs and cocks his head to the side. “Ok, what is it then? Is his dick bigger than mine?”
Your brows pinch together. Of course, he’s worried about that. “No— I haven’t even seen it yet.”
“Yet?!” his voice broke.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
You try to use a more stern tone to get him to relax, but you don’t think it’ll work. Satoru looks fucking devastated.
“What’s next, you're gonna have babies with him?”
Your jaw drops at his conclusion. “What? No! Do you not realize how dramatic you sound right now?”
“I’m being replaced by a man with fucking pornstache!” he points to himself and says.
“Excuse me?” You’re both interrupted by a timid waitress. “Um– the man that was here earlier just left.”
“I’m not surprised,” you mutter until your breath.
“Yeah…” she sighs, almost apologizing for it. “Were you guys ready to order?”
You glance back at Satoru, and he’s looking away with his arms crossed. “Could I just get the bill for the drinks?”
“Oh, no worries about that! It’s all been covered already by Mr. Gojo. You can just head out when you’re ready.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Of course! Have a good n–” she cuts herself off, knowing damn well you weren’t. “Take care.”
You would’ve laughed at how timid she was if you weren’t so irritated, and instead just nod and smile. You look back at the date crasher, contemplating whether you should thank him or not for trying to cover the bill, but hold off, knowing he probably only did it to assert even more dominance over your date than he already has.
“We’re leaving.” You rise up and grab your purse. Satoru doesn't even look at you, let alone move an inch, because he’s throwing a fucking tantrum, so you slam your hand on the table. “Get up.”
He gets up.
There’s a slight pout on Satoru’s face as he follows you out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. His hands are shoved in his pockets, dragging his feet.
“Where’s your car?” you ask.
“There,” he mumbled and nodded in its direction, then suddenly, you’re pinching his ear and yanking on it.
“Ow—”
“Walk,” you say through gritted teeth, pinching harder.
“Ow– fuck– I am,” he chokes out. “Ow, ow, ow.”
You continued to drag him through the parking lot, ignoring his pleas for you to let go.
“Suck it up,” you coldly respond. “You were asking for it when you crashed my date.”
“I’m sorry, I… ugh— I’m really not, he was lame as fuck, but still— your nails, ow.”
“Exactly, so get over it,” you continue to scold him. “Can’t believe you fucking did that.”
“Because you—”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” you cut him off, giving his ear one last tug, leaving him next to the driver's side door of his car. “Take me home. Now.”
Are you able to do one where adult aang x reader are on a mission with the group and she getting morning sickness and they are in a middle of a battle, and they find out she is pregnant
“𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐”
(Featuring: Aang)
*A/N: I don't know why but the photos are just stacked ontop of eachother whenever i view this fic on my blog I couldn't fix it no matter how many times I edit, I don't know about the others tho it might just be me because I'm using a laptop.*
CW: Mentions of pregnancy
The air was full of tension as dust and debris swirled around the battlefield. You were right in the middle of it dodging blasts and ducking behind rocks. Your heart was pounding as the fight dragged on longer than anyone expected.
Aang was beside you moving like a force of nature air slicing through enemies while keeping an eye on you. "Stay close " he called, spinning his staff and knocking back two attackers at once. "I am close " you shot back. Your voice faltered. Something felt off.
At first you thought it was just adrenaline crashing in your system. Then your stomach twisted, hard.
Oh no.
You staggered slightly pressing a hand to your mouth. Not now not now.
Another wave hit, stronger this time.
You barely made it behind a broken wall before you dropped to your knees. You gagged. Yeah definitely not great timing. Aangs voice cut sharply through the chaos, panic lacing every syllable. "Hey, hey " he said, rushing to you crouching beside you with terrified eyes. "Are you hurt what happened did someone-" You shook your head quickly trying to breathe. "I don't think " you said. Another wave of nausea interrupted you and you turned away dry heaving.
Aang froze. "You're not poisoned, right? " he said. "Unless poison makes you feel like this " you muttered weakly. Behind him the rest of the group was starting to notice. "Whats going on? " Toph yelled, fighting their way closer. Aang hovered like he was seconds away from combusting. "Something's wrong she's, shes " he said. You grabbed his sleeve. "Aang " you said, voice shaky. "I think I know what this is." He blinked. "What " he said. You hesitated. Because saying it out loud here in the middle of a literal fight felt insane.
Your body wasn't exactly being subtle anymore. "I've been feeling like this every morning " you admitted. "I thought it was stress but " you said and another wave hit and you groaned, clutching your stomach. Aangs brain visibly short-circuited. "Every morning? " he repeated slowly. You nodded. Silence hung for half a second way too quiet for a battlefield. Then it hit him hard.
His eyes widened. "Wait " he said. You could literally see the realization slam into him. "Wait " he said again. "Aang." you warned, already knowing. "Are you..." he started, voice cracking. You gave him a look. That was all the confirmation he needed. The Avatar, the master of all elements looked like he just got hit by lightning. "We're having a baby! " he said, stunned. Somewhere behind you Zuko choked mid-fight. "What?!" he said. "Now?! " Sokka yelled. "Can we focus?" Toph shouted while deflecting an attack.
Aang he was gone, mentally spiritually emotionally gone. His hands hovered near you like he didn't know whether to help you up shield you or just panic.
"We need to get you out of here " he said immediately voice urgent. "This is not safe you shouldn't be fighting you could get hurt what if " he said. "Aang " you interrupted, grabbing his face to make him look at you. "I'm fine " you said. "You just threw up in the middle of a battle " he said. "I'll survive " you said. He looked deeply unconvinced. Another explosion went off nearby snapping him back to reality enough to react he pulled you close spinning his staff as a barrier of wind deflected incoming attacks. "Okay okay " he said, breathing fast. "New plan we end this fast " he said.
There was a kind of intensity in his voice now protective, terrified determined as hell. You almost laughed if you weren't still nauseous. The fight didn't last longer after that not when the Avatar suddenly had extra motivation.
Later when everything finally calmed down and the adrenaline wore off you sat together in a spot away from the others.
Aang hadn't let go of your hand once not once. "So " he said softly glancing at you at your stomach then back, at you again like he still couldn't fully believe it. You huffed a laugh. "Yeah so... " you said. Silence. Then he broke into the most overwhelmed smile you'd ever seen. "We're having a baby " he whispered, like saying it too loud might somehow mess it up. You nodded, smiling despite everything. "We are " you said. He laughed, half joy, disbelief and pulled you into a tight hug pressing his forehead against yours.
"I'm gonna be a dad " he said, voice soft but shaky. "And I'm gonna be dealing with you panicking for the nine months " you teased. "Hey this is serious " he said. "You were ready to end the fight in five seconds " you said. "I was gonna end the fight in five seconds " he said. You both laughed the tension finally breaking. Then he grew quiet again gentle this time. "Are you okay though really " he said. You nodded. "Yeah just sick " you said. He winced. "I hate that you have to go through that " he said. "Worth it " you said simply. He squeezed your hand tighter.
CW: NSFW/18+ (MNDI) explicit, smut, fem! Reader x Aang. Pet names, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, unprotected sex, creampie, biting, oral, p in v, praising, not proof read.
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After a long day of travelling, the gang decided to settle down for the night. Instead of camping in the dark woods for once, they were staying at an inn. Toph jumps on the bed sighing in relief as she stretched her limbs, “Finally! An actual bed. No offence to appa but I missed not waking up with fur all over my face.” Sokka, the ever dramatic man, he gasps “How could you say that?! appa’s fur is more comfortable than anything.” As they both continue bickering in front of everyone you step in laughing, “Okay guys come on, let’s rest up for the night. We still have a long day tomorrow.”
“I agree. We should be taking this time resting and taking care of ourselves, not arguing about appa’s fur.” Zuko voices out with his arms crossed across his chest. “Good thing we got three rooms!” Katara states enthusiastically, “Toph and I will share one, Sokka and Zuko can share the other.”
Sokka gives Zuko the googly eyes as he leans in for a dramatic peck on the cheek. “I’m having the firelord to myself for the wholeee night- ACK!” Zuko pushes him off with a grunt before walking out of the room, with sokka following behind, muttering about fire benders and their temper.
You giggle, “Okay girl’s. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, good night!” You say as you head towards the door. “Wait, have you noticed that twinkle toes was super quiet today?” Toph asked making you pause for a moment. “Wow Toph, didn’t think you would care that much to notice.” Katara adds.
Toph springs up with a scowl staring blankly at the wall and points at Katara. “I don’t. It’s awfully noticeable when the literal definition of sunshine becomes gloomy.” Katara raises her hands up. “Just saying.”
Katara looks back at you and asks with concern. “Do you know what it is about?” You didn’t have a genuine answer. With everything going on it’s hard to pinpoint what could exactly be the reason for him to be upset. After all he is the avatar.
You sigh, “I’m not sure. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him tonight.” With that you say one last good night, closing the door behind you and made your way down the hall to your room.
⋆｡°•༄.°
“Aang?” You call out as you enter the room. There he was, outside the balcony gazing out at the setting sun. His robe discarded on the bed and only in his pants, hung low on his hips. His body was rigid with tension. You quietly walk up to him and gently touch his back. Aang exhales in relief, like his whole world just got better, his shoulders relaxing at your touch.
Aang knew the responsibilities and consequences he would face as of being the avatar. Destined to be the bridge between the real world and the spirit world, and to bring peace and balance to the world. It could all be too much for him even with all the help he could get.
He firmly touched your hand looking at you, his expression troubled. Yet he still managed to give you a warm smile. Tracing his tattoo and the scar azula left behind, he stills. It was a painful memory for the both of you. “It’s healing well.” You whisper. Aang chuckles, “Thanks to you.” Getting closer to him you hug him, feeling his muscular back against you. He towers over you with ease, unbelievable considering he was one of the shortest out of everyone.
“What’s troubling you aang?” You asked finally. The silence stretched while you waited for his answer. “I don’t know how to say.” Aang quietly replied, his voice thick with words he is struggling to say out loud. He never hides anything from you and always wanted to share things with you. He always felt closer to you, vulnerable and comforted. Aang pressed his lips to a thin line before turning towards you still holding on to your hands.
Aang released a shaky breath before he started. “I’m burdened. With the fact that I am the last air bender in this entire world. I am the only one holding on to my culture, my norms. I feel as if my entire culture is fading away.” Aang starts, his voice slightly cracking. Your heart ached seeing him like that.
He doesn’t meet your eyes as he continues. “I’m still troubled with the guilt. The guilt of me leaving my people behind because I was too scared to face my duty as the avatar.” Tears fill his big brown eyes. “My people and everything else are all gone.” He whispers tears falling down his face, gone was the calm and collected avatar everyone knew. In front of you was a boy, scared and struggling with his own thoughts. “I’m all alone, darling.”
You knew how much it meant to him. The pressure at a young age, losing the only people he ever knew and grew up with. You could feel his heartbreak and the utter distraught he felt.
You got closer to comfort him. Wiping his tears you whispered, “It’s not your fault and no one can blame you after everything.”You gave him a hug, which he immediately accepted. He held on to you as if you might slip away. He cared about everyone, but not the way he cared and loved you. To him you were the most precious thing, and he made sure everyone knew that.
“You’re not alone Aang, you have so many people that care about you.” His whole body shook, gripping you harder. Tears spilling out as he hid his face where your neck met your shoulder. “I care about you,” You continued, “and i am always here for you.” You both hugged in silence as the night sky begins to envelope the world.
“I love you so much.” Aang whispered pulling back to look at your face. He cups your face in his palms, staring at you like you are his entire world. You accepted his warm touch, “I love you most.”
Aang leaned down and captured your lips in a gentle kiss. You kissed back softly, your hands wrapping around his neck and getting on your tip toes to reach him. His hands travel down to your waist and brings you closer to him until you are pressed against him.
Aang inhales sharply before the kiss started to feel more passionate and hot. His hands find your hips and gives them a squeeze making you gasp. Aang takes that moment to insert his tongue in to your mouth deepening the kiss. He hummed approvingly as he continued to rake his hands across your hips and waist. Pulling away from the kiss, without a second to spare his mouth finds itself on your neck. Kissing and nipping against it, he groans, “God,… i love you so much!…hmm, you’re my everything.” His face flushed pinked, smelling your scent as if intoxicated by you. He couldn’t get enough. You can already feel yourself getting drenched by his sudden pursuit.
“I love you too aang-“ you mewled as he begins sucking against your neck. You could feel his hardness growing against your stomach, begging to be released. Aang suddenly picks you up, taking you by surprise. He walks you both back inside and gently places you on the bed. He stares down at you, his chest heaving, cheeks flushed a bright pink and a hard bulge against his pants.
Crawling on top of you, he murmured, his soft voice now deep and raspy with need and hunger. “You’re right darling, I’m not alone.” His knee finds comfort between your legs as his hands unties the ribbon to your shirt. “I have you.” He whispers, placing soft kisses against your cheek, then to your lips.
He feathers kisses across your neck pulling your shirt off revealing your bare tits, nipples already hard and peaking. “So perfect.” Aang sighed to himself. “My girl is the most perfect in the world.”
He gently pushes you down to lie flat on the bed. “Aang I- oh!” You whimpered when he pulls a hard nipple in to his mouth while his free hand finds its place on your other tit. He licks and nips against it, humming with so much delight, he finds himself rubbing himself against the mattress to get some sort of friction against his cock.
“Aang…” You whine arching your back for more. He releases your nipple with a pop before taking in the other one for only a moment. You gasp as he kisses down your stomach to the waistband of your pants. Impatiently he pulls your pants down in a swift motion revealing your drenched core.
Aang breathes heavily as he knelt down to face your pussy. Inhaling your scent, he groans gripping your thighs. “This?… mmm, all mine.” He kisses against your thighs teasing you.
“Please.” You didn’t know what exactly you were begging for but your pleading gone ignored, Aang continues with light kisses down to your aching core. He blows on it slightly making you arch your back in desperation. Looking down at him with need you beg once more, “Aang please.”
Aang looks up at you with desire in his eyes, “I’m going to take care of you, and her.” He motions to your pussy before the tip of his tongue teased your entrance. You whined and whimpered when the tip of his tongue only traced your lips and gently flicked your clit. He knew you were getting frustrated and impatient, yet he found it so cute.
“I’m not going to be alone my love, and do you know why?” He murmurs against your pussy lips, still not giving you what you wanted. “B-because we have each other?” You answered in a whiny tone trying to push yourself against his mouth in eagerness for his tongue, yet he holds your thighs firmly. “Youre right.” He answered but the answer hung in the air like it was unfinished. “And?” You sighed. He looks up at you with a sudden fire ignited in his eyes, “I’m going to fuck you pregnant with my children.”
He dives down to your pussy, messily slurping and sucking on your lips. Your moan fills the room as he feasts on it like a starved man. “Oh,…f-fuck Aang-“ You moaning his name was like a prayer, driving him to fuck your pussy harder with his tongue.
“My gorgeous girl, so needy.” He tuts against your folds before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking hard. “Are you excited to have my kids?” His ragged voice filled with desire was driving you insane. His voice, his tongue, his words, everything was sensational. Your hands cling on to the sheets in desperation, closing in on your climax. “Yes! Oh my god- hah!… Aang i’m so mmph!… So close!” You managed to sputter out.
“Good.” Aang mumbles as he inserts his finger in to your aching hole. He smirks, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Your pussy is taking my fingers so easily. You must be eager.” You could have came to that alone. The way he is still so gentle yet so commanding was so enjoyable. You whimpered nodded along with what he said, not managing to form words. Your toes curl against the sheets, barely holding on to what’s happening at the intense pleasure.
His fingers hit curl inside your core, continuing to abuse that same spot while flicking your sensitive bud with his tongue. His fingers worked ferociously inside you and he licks, sucks and nips your clit. Your moans and him noisily eating your pussy echoed through the room. Your climax was building up rapidly and he knew the minute you started clenching around his fingers. “Come on- mhm,.. come for me.” Aang eagerly encourages you as he continues his assault on your pussy.
You gasped his name, voice breaking as a moan as your climax crashed over you like a tsunami. Your body was quivering, recovering from it. You look down at Aang to see his face covered in your release. He licks your slick on his lips up before getting up and finally taking his pants off. His hard cock bobs up and down, tip red and angry already leaking with so much precum. He pumps his cock for a bit looking at the state you were in. Sprawling on the bed, hair a mess, cheeks and lips plump and flushed red. Were you a glorious sight for him.
He pulls you closer by your ankle, spreading your legs apart so suddenly you squealed. “Gonna.. make you a mother, hmm.. the mother of my children.” He drools looking at your wettened pussy. Taking you by surprise, he spits directly on it, the glob of spit sliding down your slit. Aang bites his lip rutting against your pussy, sliding the tip of his cock against your folds.
Tears threaten to fall as he continues to tease you. You reached down to grab his cock and insert him inside your needy little cunt yourself. You see the curve of his lips curl up mischievously before he used his air bending and restrained your hand against the bed. You cried out impatiently, arching your back, “P-please..! I need your cock so badly!”
Aang continues to slide his tip across your pussy and barely inserting before slipping out. A playful glimmer in his eyes. “Tell me you want my babies.” He slides just the slightest inch of his angry tip inside, making you moan and he pulls out tutting in disappointment at your response. “Say it darling, only then you can have it.” Your hands struggle against his restraint as you finally cry out in desperation, “Yes Aang!…Ngh- i want your babies..Hah- g-give me all- your.. mmph, babies- oh!” You were cut off as Aang easily thrusts his fat cock inside you in one go.
“Oh-oh my god…” Aang’s head falls back in pleasure as your toes curls, your mouth gaping opened an O shape. Quivering at the sudden entry and the incredible feeling of his thick tip bulging against your stomach. He stays still for a moment enveloping the warmth of your cunt all around his cock, making him shudder. “Darling… y-you’re so tight! Fuck- like you were made to… nghh!.. h-have my babies.” Aang begins thrusting slowly, making sure you feel very single inch.
Gripping my hips he picks up his pace, pistoning in and out of you. “Look at you, my pretty girl.” He groans biting his lips. Using his air bending he unrestricted your wrists and you immediately claw out to grab his arms in desperation. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock bruises your cervix. Leaning down, he kisses your jaw, his hot breath lingering against your cheek. “Gonna- gonna be such a pretty momma aren’t you?” He growls suddenly picking up his pace, more relentlessly rhythmic.
The thought of you pregnant with his children, belly so round and plump, your face glowing had him on the brink of insanity. He wanted a baby with you so badly.
You couldn’t form words, only moans and his name spilled out of your lips as if it was the only thing you remember. “My, fuck me-.. hmm, pretty girl.. hah, gonna take all my cum huh?” he whispers filthy words while thrusting his cock deeper inside you making you drool. Even while saying such profanities he still manages to compliment you. The contrast was bewildering.
Without letting his cock slip out of you, using his airbending flipping you over on your hands and knees before starting his punishing thrusts. His pace now inhumanly fast and deep making your body jolt with each thrust. “Gonna fill you allll-up with my cum, and hmm… bring back the air nomads.” He deliberately slows down his thrusts with every word but goes harder, hilting his balls right at your pussy. Your body jolts with the force of his powerful drive. He pulls you back against his chest, holding you hostage by your arms.
He uses his air bending to send cool puffs of air against your nipples, you whimpered, biting your lip leaning your head back on his shoulder. “And then.. ugh, i’m going to fill you right up..mhm- again. I want lots of kids.” He whispers against your ear, biting the shell of it. He turned your face and kisses you while his pulsing cock still intrudes you through your slick folds. The sound of skin slapping together and the both of your moans fill the room chasing your releases.
“Are you ready to be the mother of the next air nomad generation?” He grunts against you, his pace now slightly out of rhythm. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you couldn’t answer, the pleasure of his cock was too much.
Aang tilts your jaw to face him, his eyes intense immediately locking you in. “Words, darling.” You whimpered when he gives your ass cheek a slap. “Y-yes… i’m ready-“ you croaked out, voice hoarse from moaning so much. Your hips buckled against his relentless thrusts as he showers you with kisses and compliments.
His tattoo’s started glowing faintly, tracing all his hard muscles, his cock managing to get harder and bigger. “Come for me..hm! Darling, Give me a baby.” His breath hot and ragged against your neck. His arms flex’s, holding you against him and continues his rhythmic plunges, the faint glow of his tattoo’s growing brighter. The pressure in your stomach intensifies, feeling like a pit of heat. Your pussy clenches around his cock as you near your climax, a feeling he knew all too well. “Y-yes darling, fucking come for me!” Aang groans out.
“I’m- coming!!” You scream out vision turning white. Aang grunts loudly as he fucks you through the soaring pleasure, making you feel like you were flying. Following your release Aang dipped his head into the shelter of your neck and came with a deep, coarse grunt, his hips stuttering as he pumped you full to the brim. Every pulse of his cock, every gush, you felt it and clenched around him like you could keep all of it inside.
Pulling his semi hard cock out, globs of his cum dripped down your ruined pussy. “Look at all that.” He breathes out heavily staring in awe before gently laying you down on the bed. Still catching your breath and chasing your high you couldn’t move or say anything but give him a lazy smile.
Aang lays beside you and brings you close, feeling his heart beating against his chest. He presses lazy kisses across your forehead then whispers, “You’d be a great mother, i’m glad it’s you who i will have a family with.”
You lazily kiss his jaw and whispered against his skin, “Thank you, I’m glad it’s you too.” He hugs you closer warming you up, “I love you darling.” He says softly, his words melting your heart instantly, “I love you most Aang.”
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A/N: AAAHH! My first fanfic! I spent two whole days writing and i couldn’t put it down at all! I hope you enjoyed it and feedback/ advice would be very much appreciated cause there is always room for improvement! Love u bye!
Hey! Just a reminder! AO3 does NOT have an app. This garbage was made by theives who steal fan artist’s work and sell it back to you.
“Oh, but it’s free!” There are ads. They are making money off of this. They are stealing from the creators you love and you are hurting those same creators if you use this app or any similar app.
Summary: Aang sent you looking for an artifact that he wanted for his collection. Not wanting to go alone you brought Zuko and Sokka along. The two men got you feeling all hot and bothered. There’s a nice hot spring just down the mountain…
This is like my first avatar fic and since the new movie got leaked I had to see it and omg. They made everyone sooo fucking hot for what!! Sorry in advance if it’s a little slow in some parts. I didn’t proofread and just went with what flowed. Anyways enjoy!

You had invited zuko and Sokka along your journey to find an artifact, that Aang, had asked you to look for. They didn’t really have to come but you kind of missed them. It was nice having them around and the extra muscles didn’t hurt.
“What did it look like again?” Sokka asked as he climbed over a broken down wall.
“I don’t know Sokka, Aang just said I’ll know what it looks like because it gives off airbender vibes” you huffed as you looked around and walked over to a table. There was a couple of things on it but nothing airbender about it.
“I’m sure we’ll find it y/n” zuko placed his hand on the small of your back. You looked up at him and smiled. You patted his chest and walked away from him. His hand slowly slide from around your waist his hand grazing just above your ass.
Zuko watched as you walked over to an altar. Sokka looked up as he smiled at you and held up a rock. You took it and looked it over before throwing it over your shoulder. His smile dropped and pouted at you.
“That’s not nice. That rock gave airbendy vibes”
“No it gave rock” you said as you poked his nose. He moved his head and bit your finger. Holding it between his teeth as he looked up at you through his lashes.
A soft gasp fell from your lips as Sokka’s tongue licked at the tip of your finger. You slide your finger out his mouth catching his bottom lip as you held his face.
“Sokka” you whispered as you bent down to give him a kiss. His lips tasted of moon peaches that you remembered him eating. You bit his lower lip pulling away with a soft pop as you licked your own.
“We should continue looking before we get carried away” you pecked his lips once more before moving away. He still had his eyes closed, lips puckered waiting for you to continue.
“What are you doing?” Zuko asked as he raised an eyebrow at Sokka.
“Huh?” Sokka opened one eye and looked around before fully looking at Zuko.
“Um, I,” he looked around Zuko and saw you bent over some crate. Zuko followed and then connected the dots.
“Oh” he chuckled as he shook his head at him and walked away. Sokka stuttered as he tried to tell Zuko what happened.
Zuko could see a small flame in the palm of your hand. You were using it to see what was in the crate. Your other hand was moving things around hoping you can find the artifact so you three could leave.
Zuko smiled as he could hear you curse under your breath. His eyes immediately landed on your bottom that was wiggling around. You were just about to fall into the crate until Zuko grabbed your hips.
“Oh,” you looked back up, “nice save, zuko.” You smiled at him and went back to work.
“I got you” Zuko said as he held your hips. Your legs were between his legs as you wiggled around. Zuko looked down at your hips. His thumbs rubbed circles into them as he drew himself closer to you.
The flame in your hand flickered, “Zu-“
“Keep looking” he said as he pushed your upper half down. You could feel his bulge rub your ass. A slow drag from the your clothes clit up to your plush cheeks. You softly moaned as you looked over your shoulders at him. He pushed himself into you again before bringing you up. His arms wrapped around your waists as he held you against his muscular chest.
“Couldn’t help myself” Zuko breathed into the side of your head. The hand that held your front slid under your skirt and into your leggings. He felt the dampness as his fingers pressed over your clit. The fire in your hands went out as you wrapped it around Zuko’s neck. Clutching at his hair as you rutted on his fingers. He didn’t move them, just pressed them there for you to grind on.
“You’re so dirty, y/n. Rubbing your wet pussy on my fingers while in an air temple. There could be spirits around,” he nuzzled his face into your neck licking it up to your ear.
“There are no spirits here” you moaned as he bit your earlobe. Well, one, but he’s always around when you’re with the other two men. Always around to see what you three get up to when he’s not there.
“Hey!” Sokka’s voice boomed from behind the two of you. You jumped as you pulled away from Zuko. His fingers stroking your clit one last time before he turned half way to look at Sokka too.
“You can’t do that while I’m looking for this!” He held up an old looking pottery. It had swirls and other symbols craved around it. You glanced over in a direction and then nodded to Sokka.
“Good job, Sokka” you patted his chest and placed the pot into your bag that you had sitting by the old altar.
“That’s it? Just a pat!!” He looked at you in shock before looking over at Zuko. Grabbing the front of his robes as he shook him around. Yelling how unfair it was that Zuko got to touch you but not him.
“Quit your whining, Sokka. There’s this nice hot springs just down the mountain,” you looked at him as you tilted your head, “how about we go and relax and I’ll show you how much I appreciate you both”
—
“Can’t you wait until we get in the-fuck, in the springs, Sokka?”
“Need you right now” he moaned into your ear as he held you by the waist and thrusted into you. Your leggings and panties were off the only thing covering you was your crop top and the skirt he kept around your waist. He was wrapped around your waist fucking into you as you held on to a tree. Your face roughly grinding into the bark. Your nails scraping holding on to it withering in pleasure from the hard thrust he was giving you.
“Fuck, you feel so good y/n” he moaned as his finger wonder to your clit and gave it little rubs when he could remember. You moaned louder you tried to grab his arm to push him a bit. You wanted to b off the tree but Sokka was too far in lust to even care. You were able to get on to your shoulder until Zuko put himself in between the tree and you.
“Zuko” you whined dragging your nails down his exposed chest. Your chin rested on his chest a little uncomfortable as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He smiled down at you.
“Feels so good” you cried as Sokka went a little faster. His own moans singing along with your own as he pulled you back into him. His left arm lifted you off of Zuko as he let the fire nation lord watch you come undone. Your moans grew louder and higher with each upwards thrust. Your juices running down your legs, glistening in the setting sun.
“Sokka” you held on to the arm he wrapped around your shoulders. Your nails biting into his skin. What pushed you over was the feeling Zuko’s lips sucking at your clit.
You cried into the twilight sky, your eyes closed tightly as your body shook. The lips around your clit let go as he came up and kissed you. You moaned into Zuko’s mouth moving your lips along with his. Calming down as you held Sokka’s arm. You could feel him thrust into you slowly pushing the last of his release. His breathing heavy as he rested his head on top of yours. Holding you to his sweaty chest.
“That’s had to be the best one yet” he gasped between words. You broke your kiss with Zuko as you tapped Sokka’s arm so he could let you go.
You turned to also kiss him, “so fucking good” you said against his lips. He smiled as his tongue entered your mouth. His hand wondered down your body groping and playing with your ass. His fingers gathered some of the leaking cum and brought it up to your puckered hole. His finger circled your hole and pushed on it a couple of times. Relishing in the moan you were making into his mouth.
“Gotta get you ready for our friend” he said as he looked over your shoulder. He watched as he pulled one cheek so he could finger your ass. His middle finger slid in with ease. He pulled it back out and pushed in slowly. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Moaning and jutting out your ass.
“I’m ready already” you moaned as heat covered your cheeks. You looked over to the spirit that was watching. He stood just a few feet away, pumping with a blissed out look to him.
“Someone else beat you to it” both Sokka and Zuko looked at you with surprise. They looked in the direction you were watching. It clicked and both men chuckled.
“Good to know” Zuko said as he pushed you lower. Your face as Sokka’s waist, you looked over at Zuko as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly pushed himself inch by inch not wanting to hurt you.
“Tight” he grimaced as he squeezed his fingers to your flesh. It was painful but the pleasure that came with it was over powering the pain. You hugged Sokka’s body to your face as you moaned for Zuko to go. You were ready for it. You needed to feel that electrifying pleasure that came with the pain.
Zuko pulled back and rammed himself into you. It knocked the wind from your lungs as your mouth fell open. The gasps that came from you only fueled him to do it again.
“Oh fuck” they came out on your breathy moan. You bit your bottom lip as you looked back at Zuko. His own mouth was open as he drove his hips at a slow but hard thrust.
He was in a trance from the recoil. He smoothed his hand down your back until it touched the fabric of your crop top.
“Take this off” Sokka grabbed it and helped you pull it off. Your breast fell from the shirt and landed in Sokka’s waiting hands. Zuko held you up by your stomach letting you kiss Sokka in this position. Sokka kissed down the length of your neck to the top of your breast. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth giving it a quick nip before moving on to the other one.
You held Sokka to your breast as an anchor as Zuko jack hammered into your wet cunt.
“I’m not gonna last long” Zuko said biting on your shoulder. You cried holding the back of his and Sokka’s head as you came for the second time. Zuko pulled out and came on your back panting as he smeared the last of his release on your right cheek.
Your body shook and trembled as you held on to them. Sokka tapped the side of your body, “oh, sorry Sokka.”
You let go of his head as he took a breath with a dopey smile, “I wouldn’t have mind dying like that.”
“Yea but someone else would have” you huffed a small laugh. You took your skirt, the last article of clothing, off as you made your way to the hot springs. You wobbled a little bit you were able to make it. You sighed as you got comfortable around the edge. You closed your eyes for a moment resting your head on the edge. Zuko and Sokka got comfortable in the water. Talking about what they plan on doing next.
You open your eyes to look at the night sky but were blocked by Aang. Well, not actually Aang, more his spirit form. He stood over you, cock in hand. His moans echoing as he pumped his leaking cock.
“Y/n” he panted your name as his hip rocked into his hand with every stroke. You looked over to Sokka and Zuko. Both men relaxed on the other side of the spring, talking.
You looked up at Aang and gave him a sultry smile. You pushed your breast up and stuck your tongue out, waiting for his load. That did it for him and he came. His cum splashing your face and chest.
Aang got on one knee as he wiped the last bit of his spent on your tongue. You could feel the velvet head of his tip. Closing your lips around it you gave a light suck before releasing it.
“Can’t wait for you to come back to republic city” he whispered to you. You winked at him and he gave you a kiss before he disappeared.
Water rippled around you as you looked up and see both Sokka and Zuko making their way to you. They’re cocks at the ready as they smiled at you with predatory intent. Heat rushed to your pussy as you licked your lips at them ready for another round.
｡𖦹°‧ Avatar!Aang who glows when he’s close because you just feel so good <3
The firelight danced across the walls of the hidden cave, casting long shadows that flickered like the restless spirits of the Spirit World. You and Aang had slipped away from the others hours ago, seeking a moment of peace after another grueling day of travel and training.
The Air Nomad’s glider staff leaned against the rock wall, his orange and yellow robes discarded in a careless heap beside yours. The air smelled of earth and the faint, clean scent of him—wind-swept and alive.
Aang hovered above you on a gentle cushion of air, his gray eyes glowing faintly with the soft light of the Avatar State, not from bending, but from something far more intimate.
His bare chest pressed against yours as he lowered himself, the smooth, warm skin of his toned body sliding along your curves. He was already hard, his cock heavy and flushed against your thigh, the head glistening with anticipation.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, voice husky, the playful monk gone and replaced by the man who had grown into his desires. His lips found your neck, kissing, sucking, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch into him.
One hand slid down your side, calloused fingers from years of staff training tracing the dip of your waist before cupping your ass, pulling you closer.
He shifted, the thick length of him pressing against your entrance, teasing, rubbing slow circles against your slick folds. You were soaked for him already, body aching from the way he’d spent the last twenty minutes with his mouth between your legs, tongue flicking over your clit until you’d come undone twice, moaning his name into the cave’s echoing walls.
“Aang… please,” you breathed, fingers threading through his arrow tattoos, feeling the raised ink under your palms.
He smiled against your skin, that boyish grin that still made your heart stutter even now. “I’ve got you.”
With one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside you to the hilt. The stretch was perfect—thick, hot, filling you completely. A low groan escaped his throat as your walls clenched around him, velvet-tight and dripping. He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged.
“Shi-shoot you’re so tight,” he murmured, hips rolling experimentally. The first few thrusts were slow, deep, savoring every inch as he dragged along your inner walls, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, urging him deeper. Aang obliged, picking up pace, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin filling the cave alongside your shared moans.
His hands braced on either side of your head, muscles flexing with every powerful snap of his hips. Sweat beaded on his skin, making the blue arrow on his forehead and the ones along his limbs gleam.
Every thrust pushed you higher, pleasure coiling tight in your belly. His cock dragged perfectly inside you, the head kissing your cervix with every deep plunge. You could feel him throbbing, growing even harder as he lost himself in you.
Then it started.
As his rhythm grew erratic, hips stuttering, a soft blue-white glow began to emanate from his skin. It started at the arrow tattoos—faint at first, like moonlight on water—then spread outward, lighting up the intricate patterns across his body. His eyes flickered, the gray turning luminous as the Avatar’s spiritual energy surged with his building orgasm.
“Oh—fuck,” Aang gasped, voice cracking with pleasure. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. His thrusts became harder, deeper, the glow intensifying with every snap of his hips.
The air around you hummed with gentle wind currents, small eddies of air swirling lazily around your joined bodies as his bending reacted instinctively to his heightened state.
You reached up, tracing the glowing arrows on his chest with trembling fingers. The light was warm, not hot—tingling against your skin like static from a storm. It made everything feel more intense, as if his spiritual energy was bleeding into you, heightening every sensation.
“Aang, you’re glowing,” you moaned, clenching around him deliberately, watching his eyes flutter shut in ecstasy.
“I—I can’t help it,” he panted, forehead dropping to your shoulder. The glow brightened, his entire body now radiating soft, ethereal light that bathed the cave in pale blue. “When I get close… it just happens. The energy… it builds up and—”
He cut himself off with a deep groan as you rolled your hips up to meet him, taking him even deeper. His cock twitched inside you, pulsing strongly, the glow flaring brighter. The air grew warmer, charged, tiny sparks of light dancing at the edges of your vision like fireflies.
You were close too, the sight of him like this—powerful, vulnerable, glowing with raw spiritual energy—pushing you toward the edge. Your nails dug into his back, right over the glowing arrow there, and he shuddered violently.
“Gonna… gonna cum,” he warned, voice strained and beautiful. His thrusts turned short and frantic, grinding against your clit with every movement. The glow was almost blinding now, concentrated brightest at the arrows and around his cock where your bodies joined, casting surreal shadows.
You came first, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed over you, walls fluttering and squeezing him rhythmically. The pressure was too much for him.
Aang’s whole body tensed, glowing brighter than ever. A low, guttural moan tore from his throat as he buried himself to the hilt one last time. His cock throbbed hard, pulsing as he spilled deep inside you, hot and thick.
The light exploded outward in a gentle wave, washing over you both in a rush of warm, tingling energy that made your aftershocks feel endless, like the Avatar’s spirit was sharing the pleasure with you.
He collapsed onto you, still glowing faintly, the light slowly dimming as his breathing evened out. The air currents settled. His lips found yours in a lazy, sated kiss, tongue sliding against yours with tender affection.
“Every time,” he chuckled breathlessly against your mouth, the last traces of blue-white light fading from his skin, leaving only the faint sheen of sweat. “You make me lose control like that… and the whole Avatar thing just… glows.”
You smiled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours.
“I like it,” you whispered. “My glowing monk.”
Aang laughed softly, nuzzling into your neck as he stayed buried inside you, reluctant to pull out. The cave felt warmer, safer, wrapped in the afterglow of both your bodies and the faint spiritual light that still lingered in the air like a promise.
Dividers - @/cafekitsune
lwk inspired by this
an - Guys I literally cannot stop writing them, do ya’ll know how jealous I am knowing our girl katara got that every night 😩
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : you confessed your undying love to zuko back when you were 17. he rejects you. you swear to never see him again. that plan falls apart the moment aang calls everyone back together- and brings along a handsome, mysterious airbender who seems to fit into your life a little too easily. now, between unresolved feelings, forced proximity, and a mission that refuses to stay simple, avoiding zuko isn’t an option anymore.
wc: currently 2.2k, will change as i update
warnings: SPOILERS- the plot is heavily based on the new movie, so don’t read if u don’t wanna get spoiled!! eventual smut (i’ll add the warnings for it once I post the chapter), forced proximity, kinda a once sided enemies to lovers, love triangle, cursing, probably a bit ooc, but the first chapter is really light, you might get mad at y/n but dont get mad at me :), reader is kinda mean. noooo use of “y/n”
