General Disclaimer: All of my bots are over the age of 18, and most are well into their 20’s - 30’s. Some of these bots contain content that may be intense for some people, and I will do my best to TW where appropriate. Please use critical thinking when determining if you should use any bot regardless of content warnings. Spoilers may also apply. Bots are written with female users in mind, but most are not written exclusively straight.
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The Coffin of Andy & Leyley
Andrew & Ashley Graves (Poly)
TW: Murder, Cannibalism, Non-Consent and Dubious Consent, Drugging, Kidnapping, Incest.
Jujutsu Kaisen
Gojo Satoru
Geto Suguru 🌹 (most popular)
TW: Depression, usage of sex as a coping mechanism for depression, hypersexuality/sex addiction.
Geto Suguru - Cult AU
Tw: Manipulation, Brainwashing is implied with the members, user is in a car accident in the opening message.
Gojo & Geto (Poly)
Nanami Kento
Sukuna Ryomen
TW: Cannibalism, Murder, Noncon/Dubcon possible and implied.
Fushiguro Toji
Okkotsu Yūta
TW: Rika. Social anxiety.
Choso
Ieiri Shoko
Zen’in Naoya
TW: Misogyny, Traditional Gender Roles, Sexism. He’s not very nice.
Tsukumo Yuki
Kenjaku (no one asked but…)
TW: it’s literally a brain wearing a corpse, all warnings apply. He’s not nice.
◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!healer!reader
◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 13K
◜cw: fluff, sweet-dirty talk, wounds caring, previous sexual tension, feelings, rain, porn with some plot, first time sex, body worship, bodily fluids, piv, masturbation [F, M], blowjob, cock warming-riding, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, morning talk.
▹ summary. one brow arched. “oh, really?” he asked sarcastically. “then perhaps you can explain why you’re straddling me like you are, love.”
˗ˏˋ a/note. english isn't my native language, sorry if there are mistakes.
‘He was foolish. Reckless. Utterly stupid.’
Those words spun like a storm in your mind as you watched Astarion dash into danger. All because Gale, with one of his grandiose schemes, asked him to be a distraction—a distraction, of all things. The sheer absurdity grated on you, especially after that cocky, charming smile Astarion showed.
For all his talk of survival and his centuries-old staying alive, he seemed oblivious to the risks he took, as if he actually believed he was invincible. That careless swagger, that excitement in his eyes—it frustrated you to no end. Why does he have to be like this?
You were the only one in the camp capable of tending to wounds after Shadowheart decided to go off on her own because of a disagreement. And he knew it all too well.
He’d charged straight ahead of a group of Flaming Fists, who’d been hell-bent on killing you all after a disastrous misunderstanding. How you’d managed to escape with just minor injuries was still beyond your reach, but one thing was clear: if his recklessness didn’t kill him, you might do it yourself.
When he came to you later, sheepishly asking for a hand with his wounds, you were ready to refuse—but then he looked at you, with that pleading puppy look in his eyes that seemed to make all your frustration melt in an instant… and you just gave in.
You stepped out of your tent, dressed in your camp clothes and carrying a small bag with bandages and supplies. The moment the cold night breeze swept over your face and bare arms, you regretted your clothing.
But you headed towards Astarion’s tent. And as you crossed the camp, the faint patter of raindrops began to break the silence, with cool droplets striking the ground. You quickened your pace; the last thing you needed right now was to catch a cold.
The flap of the tent swayed gently in the breeze as you lifted your hand to brush the canvas aside and stepped in.
Inside, there was a warm setting given by some candles, and the rich scent of Astarion quickly enveloped you—hints of brandy and rosemary. And there he lay, reclining on his bedroll against some plushy pillows, with an opened book resting idly in his hands, though he wasn’t reading. His crimson eyes lifted rapidly to meet yours by the moment you entered, his brow raising slightly in surprise before a smile spread on his lips.
Astarion set his book aside with an elegant flourish, sitting a bit as his hand reached to help you enter in. “Ah, my darling... at last. I was beginning to think you’d leave me alone all nigh—” His words cut off abruptly as your palm connected sharply with his cheek.
“That’s for risking your life like a fool.” You snapped as you sat beside him on his bedroll.
He lifted a hand to his cheek and soothed the stinging sensation, shocked but faintly amused by your unexpected reaction. Before he could even part his lips to say something, you raised a finger to cut him off while dropping your bag on the bedroll with a firm thud.
“Honestly, Astarion, what in the hells were you thinking?” You demanded, already taking a cloth from your bag. You didn't even wait for him to reply and just reached for his arm, where a nasty wound marred his porcelain skin. “Running in like that without a second thought...” You murmured to yourself, furrowing your brows in worry.
Letting out a sigh, you carefully wiped the wound. “What if I hadn’t been there? Or if you’d got ki—” You shut yourself, swallowing down the knot of anxiety that had lodged in your throat since the fight ended. Memories of that night at the Tiefling’s party appeared in your mind—when, just for a moment, he’d looked at you beyond his enchanting demeanour. And how that left you feeling fragile in a way you weren’t ready to confront.
After a moment, you spoke more calmly, “You can’t keep doing this, Astarion. You can’t keep risking yourself as if you don’t matter.”
As you dabbed carefully at another cut, his face tensed in a grimace, and you couldn't hold back any longer. “I don’t care how bold you think you are, Astarion—there’s no excuse for being so imprudent. You’re not some disposable distraction, no matter what Gale or anyone else thinks.” You noticed how one of his eyebrows raised with that glint in his eyes. “And don’t even think about giving me that look.”
For once, he simply fell silent, watching how your hands moved in his arm with the cool cloth with... perhaps an affectionate expression. Then his voice dropped, gentler than you'd ever heard it. “I didn't realise you cared about me... quite this much.”
Your hands froze briefly, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. You controlled your feelings. “Well, someone has to keep you in line, and I’m fairly certain neither of our lovely friends would be up to the task.” You clarified, somewhat exasperated, but with some gentility in your tone.
You heard a soft chuckling from him, as he was aware of the truth in your words. Gently, his hand reached out to caress yours. “It means... more than you think. To have someone caring.” As your eyes dropped to his hand and then his face, you saw past his charm for a fleeting moment, past his sly smile to the man who hadn't known kindness in far too long. “Thank you.”
Your eyes widened while your cheeks rose even more, quickly looking again to his arm as you wiped another open wound. You cleared your throat. “Just... try not to make me need to patch you up every time we get into trouble, alright? For my sanity, if nothing else.”
He gently caressed the back of your hand one last time before letting his hand fall to his lap. “Oh, and miss all the attention you give me?” He looked into your eyes, pouting a little but taking in the seriousness in your face. “Fine. I’ll be more careful, love.” His voice was laced with a teasing warmth, easing the sting of worry in your chest, making it almost worth it.
The rain began to fall harder, the deafening through of it slapping against the canvas. When you looked at his shirt, there was something about how it had dark patches of blood through that caught your attention. You could almost see the bruises starting to form and the scratches beneath the fabric.
You glanced up at him again. “Astarion, take that shirt off; I need to see what’s under it.”
He raised one of his eyebrows. “Eager, aren't we?” He smirked. “I suppose I can indulge you, darling...”
You gave him a soft smile for his tease, speaking exasperated but amused. “I’m sure you’ve got wounds under there, Astarion. Just take it off.”
His smirk widened, clearly enjoying. “Such impatience... Very well, love. You’ve earned the right to see what lies beneath.” Then he reached for the hem of his classic white shirt, the delicate fabric gathering in his hands before he tugged it over his head in one fluid move, slightly disheveling his curls.
The shirt slipped away, revealing his chest and the sharp definition of his collarbones. The flickering candlelight danced across his skin, casting shadows over the subtle contours of his physique. His movements were unhurried as he was offering you a glimpse.
As he tossed the garment aside carelessly, it landed in a heap near the edge of the bedroll. The air between you seemed to shift. His crimson eyes showed a slight hint of vulnerability that he quickly masked with a smirk.
“Better?” He drawled, his usual charm creeping back. “Is the view satisfactory, or are you planning to strip me further?”
You rolled your eyes, though the warmth blooming in your cheeks betrayed your mock tiresomeness. “Oh, stop. I’m only trying to see how severe the damage is. Not everything has to be an invitation for your theatrics.” With the cloth in hand, you pressed it gently to a scrape on his shoulder.
Trying to focus solely on the task at hand, you tried not to stare too long at the sight before you, but the way you moved closer left a sense of intimacy that you couldn't quite ignore. The quiet hum of your fingers tracing his chest and the lines of his abdomen made you feel the way his skin seemed to breathe beneath your fingertips. And you could swear that you heard almost inaudible sighs from him when your hands brushed over particularly tender sites.
The storm raged harder, hammering relentlessly against the tent as if the heavens insisted on being heard.
The wounds were worse than you thought—a mixture of gashes and dark bruises, a few of them with a touch of infection already setting in. Your eyes faltered briefly when your heart tightened at this sight as you moved from one injury to the next, cleaning them.
Astarion's gaze remained fixed on you, changing between your hands and your preoccupied expression. For once, the usual, confident, and charismatic vampire who normally danced with danger and seductiveness had taken his mask off. Showing the face of someone who, for once, truly trusted in someone else and allowed you to take care of him.
His breath caught when you reached a particularly deep gash along his abdomen, and you had to steady yourself to not flinch with him. The sound of his discomfort sent a tremor through your hands. Still, he kept his endurance and didn't flinch away from you; this only made your chest ache more.
He broke the silence with a low mutter with an odd weariness. “You should stop doing that.”
Your fingers froze, halting mid-motion. “Stop what?” You asked, but not looking up, trying to maintain your focus.
“Caring so much,” he replied quietly. “It doesn’t suit you.”
You stilled, taken aback by his words, before you finally looked up to meet his gaze. “You’re a fool.” You shot back.
He let out a soft laugh, but it wasn’t the usual mocking sound; no, it sounded with a subtle trace of gratitude, or perhaps something far more complicated for him.
“You know,” he added after a long moment, his voice lower now, “I’m not used to this. To someone looking after me.”
You let your hands rest on his waist, looking up once more. “I’m not doing this because you’re special,” you replied with a snark tone. “I’m doing it because you’re an idiot, Astarion. And if you keep getting yourself hurt like this, I might just tie you up next time to keep you out of trouble.”
His lips showed that smile of his again, though more tenderly. “Ah, my very own personal keeper. What would I do without you, darling?”
After you grabbed and secured a bandage around his waist for his deep wound, you allowed your hands to stay on his body moments longer than necessary. You could feel the enveloping air between you; the silence was tense, though neither of you moved or said anything. Astarion's pupils were dilated looking at you, and they held a certain depth that seemed to pull at you.
Your mind was still so wrapped up in the care you'd given him that you barely noticed the shift in your own position until you relaxed to adjust the posture of your body. That's when the realisation hit you like a punch to the gut—you were straddling him.
Your knees rested on either side of his hips, and you could feel the constant pressure of his pelvis against yours in a way that felt far too out of place.
A sharp breath caught in your throat, and you instinctively stiffened while a rush of hotness flooded your chest. Your mind started to race: ‘How long have we been like this? How had I not noticed this before?’ The tightness of your hips against his, the way your bodies seemed to fit together so... naturally—it was impossible to ignore.
But Astarion? He didn’t falter even for a second. His body remained relaxed beneath yours, with some sort of steady confidence, like he had no intention of acknowledging the shift in the dynamic. There was the faintest shift in his posture, a barely perceptible tightening of his grip on your thigh, but it went away in an instant.
“Getting comfortable, darling?” He spoke smoothly, with a dangerous and devilishly enticing tone. His lips curled into that signature grin of his, but this time it was different; there was no teasing edge, no light-hearted mockery. Instead, there was a subtle weight to it, as it appeared to hold more meaning than it usually did.
“I must admit, I didn’t think you’d be so forward, love.” He purred. There was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice, the quiet thrill touring his body of the intimacy at that moment.
The hand on your thigh slowly slid to your hip, allowing his fingers to linger there briefly before trailing up to your waist. You straightened up immediately, your face flushing while your pulse hammered in your chest because you had never been this close to him before—really close. Too close.
“I wasn't... trying to be forward...” Your voice tumbled, feeling a nervous tension twisting in your gut. Your words stumbled over each other, sharper than you meant them to be. “I was just trying to—”
“Trying to cure me, I know,” he interrupted, his soft chuckle rolling over you like a sensual caress. “Though, love, such a delicate position for a healer. Wouldn’t you agree?” His voice dipped, low and molten, sharpening his smile into something far more dangerous. His eyes were locked on yours, unfaltering, almost daring you to react.
Everything else blurred into insignificance. All you could hear was the erratic pounding of your own heartbeat and his breathing, far too steady for the situation.
“I...” you started, but the tightness in your throat made it difficult to say a word. You didn’t know what to say; you didn’t even know if you wanted to break the silence hanging between you. “We should probably...” The sentence fizzled out, as useless as your resolve to push away the growing tension.
Before you could even think of anything else, the heat of his touch burnt through the fabric of your pyjamas, making your skin tingle in its wake. His hand slid up your side, grazing your ribs and the curvature of your breast with his thumb before setting at your waist to grip it firmly. The way his thumb slowly began to stroke the curve of your waist only made your nervousness get worse. His touching wasn't just casual—it was as if he wanted to test your reaction.
A rush of sensations made it impossible to think clearly, your body betraying you. His posture—his other elbow propped for support—the constant pressing of his crotch against yours, his hand on your waist—it all pulled you into a current you weren’t sure you could fight.
“Go on,” he purred with the faintest hint of mockery. His gaze moved to your lips, as though he could draw out the answer with nothing but his stare. His fingers flexed slightly against your waist, the pressure sending a ripple of heat skittering through you. “What was it you were saying? Something about what we should do?”
You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on your hands as they rested awkwardly near his chest, fingers twitching. The heat building between your thighs crept upward, spreading through your belly like a forest fire. You felt flushed and shivering, not just from the closeness but from the way he was glancing at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth his attention.
You weren't prepared for this; you hadn't anticipated that the barriers you thought were between you would collapse into nothing so abruptly.
Astarion’s voice cut through your thoughts like a blade. “Are you going to keep me here all night, love?” His tone kept low, almost a growl.
You struggled to string together coherent thoughts before saying something. “I didn't know you wanted... I didn't think...” The words stumbled out again, barely audible as your voice betrayed you.
His smirk deepened, and his crimson eyes held a predatory gleam that made your stomach twist and flutter all at once. “Don’t play coy with me, darling.” His voice was velvety enough to bury each word into your ears. “I know you’ve thought about this—about me. I can see it, feel it. You want this as much as I do.” You tried to look away to escape his gaze, but it was impossible. His eyes held you captive, burning with something raw and unapologetically ravenous.
Your eyes widened as he tugged you closer with a calculated ease that made you perfectly aligned with him—causing your pussy to rub directly on his cock. The feeling made every inch of you stand on edge, your body betraying you with a tremor you couldn’t suppress. Then he reclined back against his pillows more comfortably before his other hand glided up your thigh. “Relax, darling...” He purred lowly, his tone a sensuous command that curled around you like smoke.
You became instantly conscious of the burning sensation beneath you—the growing hardness pressing insistently against your cunt. Your thoughts whirled, panic and desire colliding in a tumult. ‘How did I end up like this?’ But the answer was painfully clear—he had led you, and you’d followed without resistance for being distracted caring for him.
“I... I wasn't planning... this.” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but his eyes—bold and piercing—made it impossible to hold.
One brow arched. “Oh, really?” He asked sarcastically. “Then perhaps you can explain why you’re straddling me like you are, love.”
His hardening length was impossible to ignore, even through the barrier of clothes, the sensation making heat surge through you in torrents. You swallowed hard. “I… It’s only because you moved me—” You tried to protest, but Astarion pressed a finger to your lips to silence you before leaning in to kiss your neck. “Moved you, did I?” He teasingly whispered against your skin. “Then don’t even think of moving, love... you're not going anywhere.”
Those words echoed in your ears. You knew you’d been fighting with your feelings since that night with the tieflings—when you’d seen him in his tent with his wine focused entirely on you, ignoring everyone else. You’d told yourself it was just the wine, the moment, but now you could hardly keep up the pretence.
For a hesitant moment, you thought about pulling away—but then his expression softened, almost looking if his black pupils were begging for you to stay with him, to kiss him when he noticed your intentions as you stared at his lips and slowly you hovered them with yours; the distance seemed endless.
With a small effort, you leaned in and kissed his lips, and you could feel how he smiled, clearly delighted by your boldness and the way your hand curled at his nape to draw him to you. The motions of your lips were slow, unsure. But as soon as you felt his opening slightly against yours, the shyness began to fade.
His hands clamped on your hips to pull you closer until there wasn't any space for doubt or even space untouched between you, and you could feel him—all of him. The pressure of his cock perfectly aligned with your entrance provoked you to gasp against his mouth; even in the hesitation, he gave you no choice but to lean into him, to crave more and push past the uncertainty that had held you back.
He just seemed to want more, that he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth felt as if it were burning yours. The kiss started slow and tentative, but that didn't last. His lips grew more insistent as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head and parting yours with ease to slip his tongue between your lips in a hurry. This made you pant by the initial shock of it, racing your heart. Your thoughts began to dissolve, leaving only the moment, and you simply surrendered to the sensation.
The swipes of his tongue weren’t gentle at all. He was implacable, exploring your mouth, moving deeper. His kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was an invitation, a way to encourage you. And as you accepted, you met his tongue with your own, unconfident at first, but he gave you the courage to match his boldness. Astarion groaned softly, a deep sound that reverberated in your lips, sending an intense pulse of arousal to your pussy.
There was no going back now, and you knew it. This was it—the pull to him, the demand of his touch, and now you could feel the indescribable connection that had been building between you from the very first time your eyes had met.
His lips pulled away just enough to speak. “You’re mine tonight.” He groaned roughly as his hands drifted to the sensitive space between your inner thighs, cupping your pussy and slowly kneading it with his fingers. “And when I’m through with you, you won't even remember what it felt like to be without me.”
Your chest tightened as his words hit hard, but you found yourself barely able to even think, unable to do more than just nod as you looked down at him. Your lips parted while you took your breath, while his hand moved with a voracious elegance, dragging his fingertips along the seam where your trousers joined. The air was charged and burning before he did what he did.
With a sharp tug, Astarion tore the fabric between your thighs. The sound was violent as the seams of your trousers gave way under the force of his hands, almost merciless. The rip clearly was strategic—exposing just enough to reveal what was hidden.
But the regret rushed over you the moment the cool night air hit your exposed area. You hadn’t been wearing any panties, and now, with nothing to shield your nakedness, you felt scandalously vulnerable. You cursed yourself for all the nights you decided against wearing anything, thinking no one would notice. Now, the decision turned painfully foolish.
His eyes dropped, and his pupils dilated further at the sight of his no longer hidden treasure, curling his lips with delight. A low laugh escaped his throat. “Well, well,” he purred, distinctly pleased. “It seems you’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you? No panties? How deliciously bold.”
You mentally damned your stupidity, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. The simple choice of not wearing underwear before going to sleep now felt like an invitation, one he seemed all too eager to accept.
The shock of it left you momentarily motionless and without words, feeling the cool air kissing the exposed skin of your thighs and your core. His hand brushed over the tear he had just created, grazing his fingers very close to where your pussy was.
“I can still see that shy little spark in you, even now.” He talked again, locking onto you. The playful smirk on his lips softened as he watched the blush across your cheeks. “It's almost... adorable.”
You tilted your head slightly, trying to escape his penetrating stare, a nervous pout forming on your lower lip as your hands clutched at his shoulders for some sort of stability. But a sudden gasp escaped your lips when his middle and ring fingers slid between your folds with smooth precision, parting them easily. His fingers let your clitoris be positioned right between both; your sensitive bud responded instantly after so many winters without another’s touch, and your grip on his shoulders only grew firmer.
When they finally clamped on either side of your clit, his fingers massaged it with a slow back-and-forth motion, sending an uncontrollable shiver through your nub. Your hips instinctively moved due to his stimulation, causing a soft tremor in your pelvis as the tingling sensation built. The exact pressure he exerted made you melt further, caught in the heat of it and masking your timid instincts.
All swipes of his fingers coaxed your body to react in ways you could barely control. Astarion's smile widened as he enjoyed watching the last traces of your shyness slowly dissolve beneath his touch. Eventually joining his thumb to the dance, finally rubbing directly over the skin covering your bud before pressing down in slow circles that made your thighs tremble against his hips.
“Just like that…” He murmured approvingly. “Feels good, doesn't it?”
His fingers slid forward slightly, pressing his palm against your clit while his middle finger traced the outline of your entrance. The anticipation held you captive, instinctively arching your hips, silently urging him to end the wait. And then, with tantalising slowness, he slid one finger inside you, the feeling both stimulating and exhilarating all at once. The filling was perfect—gradual but firm—and soon, a second finger joined to push in and out without pulling them out entirely.
With each slow thrust of his fingers, his palm rubbed on the skin of your clit, adding a delicious, pleasurable dual stimulation that sent spasms through your pussy, making it impossible to stay still. The strokes were maddeningly controlled, his fingers reaching and curling deeper with every smooth push, as though he knew exactly what you needed and how to give it to you. Astarion’s gaze never left your face, his piercing crimson eyes bright with pleasure, absorbing every sigh and shiver you produced.
“How sensitive, darling...” He breathed softly as he drew closer to meet your lips with his, causing a sweet pulse to your core, intensifying your throbs.
He angled his hand just slightly to reach deeper, and you gripped him tightly. You found yourself helplessly following the increasing tempo he set, encircling his neck with your arms to pull him closer and losing one of your hands in his silky curls.
Astarion's smile turned avaricious against your mouth, sensing your walls vibrate and deliciously clench around him, drenching his hand in just a few minutes. He curled his skilled fingers inside to stimulate a sensitive spot you didn't know was there, just perfectly, his touch implacable against your clit while he fucked your cunt.
Your mouth was being claimed with an eagerness that made your blood boil—he was devouring you in the kiss. His smooth lips moved against yours, insistent and hungry, coaxing you to open for him as he gently bit your lower lip. As you complied, his tongue rapidly swept in, tasting your saliva mingling with his. It was dizzying; your senses flooded with the taste of him and the coolness of his pale skin, creating a high contrast against your hot, wetting pussy and just adding to the sensations.
A low groan gurgled in his chest as his lips pressed harder, the tips of his fangs grazing your bottom lip before pulling back slightly. Just to slam his mouth to yours again with even more fierceness after taking his breath. His fingers curled more rapidly against that delicate spot within you, utterly submerging you in the magnetic pull of his caresses and the incredible hunger in his kiss.
He pulled away, his lips brushing against yours as he did, a soft, breathless hum escaping him. “I wonder,” he began, “how long it will take for you to break, darling.” His eyes glinted as he continued. “But I’m in no rush. We’ll savour this. I will…”
Your grip on him tightened, slightly pulling his hair as your hips rocked back and forth with the pace he set, lost to the growing pleasure he built for you. His touch was relentless, almost coaxing you to the brink, but every stroke was carefully calculated, carefully slow to keep you teetering, hovering in a blissful tension that left you frustrated.
Astarion watched you with predatory attention, centred on the slightest whimper that escaped your lips, as well as that exquisite pussy between your thighs. The very sight of you brought him as much pleasure as his hand brought to you.
Your breathing grew ragged as your body instinctively sought more of the pleasure he promised. The fullness of his fingers, though they were quite close to what you needed, only left you aching for more. You could feel your desire intensifying with every subtle movement, letting your hands drift lower in his chest with the need to touch, to claim him as yours. ‘At least for tonight’.
“Astarion... more, please... I want your cock inside me.” You pleaded, looking into his eyes with desperate want. “Take off these trousers...” You added, letting your fingers trail down his abdomen to where his waistband circled just below his waist, urging him to remove the last barrier between you.
He held your gaze, his eyes smouldering as a slow, indulgent smile appeared on his face. “Oh, you’re even more delicious when you beg...” He honeyed with approval, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and watching with keen interest as you trembled at the loss, the delicate quiver of your hips only adding to the pleasure he found in your vulnerability.
Before doing so, he slowly brought his dripping fingers from your cunt to his mouth, taking great pleasure in licking them clean and savouring the sweet, intoxicating juices made by your body. A soft, pleased hum escaped him as his eyes gleamed with wicked glee as he drank in the sight of your flushed face.
Only then did his hands drop to the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t rush, of course; instead, his movements were maddeningly slow as he began to slide the fabric down. The gleam in his eyes told you everything—he was savouring every second, drawing out the moment just to test your patience, fully aware of how much it would irritate you.
But just before sliding them for once and for all down, he stopped within a second. His eyes trailed their way down to your breasts, marked against the cloth, still covered while his torso was bare since you made him take off his shirt; the contrast stirred something within him. His fingers gently trailed along the fabric of your shirt, brushing down and against the edge, before his hand slid inside to grip your waist.
He looked back up, meeting your gaze with desire and playful intent. “Darling,” he purred, “don’t you think it’s only fair that you join me in shedding the rest of my clothing?” His eyes gleamed as he showed his damned puppy-like eyes for the second time that day. “I want to feel all of you against me,” he added, his tone rich with faked sorrow as his lower lip made a soft pout. “Take it off, my love...”
Oh, this definitely made you smile, feeling a spark of mischief as you looked down at him. You could tell he hadn’t quite anticipated the thought that crossed your mind.
You let your fingers drift along his bare chest again, savouring the coolness and smoothness of his porcelain skin before cradling his cheek, taking in every detail of his expectant look.
“Well,” you leaned close, letting your lips just a few inches away from his. “After tearing my favourite trousers,” you whispered, trailing your thumb teasingly across his lower lip, “don’t you think it’s only fair that you ask me—politely—to take the shirt off?”
Astarion raised one of his brows; his smile wavered for only a moment as he considered your request. Then, his expression softened, his smirk playing again on his lips as his hands slid up your sides under your shirt. “Oh, I see,” he replied smoothly, “you want me to beg, do you?”
You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Yes.” You savoured every single letter that slipped from your lips. “I am dying to hear you beg, Astarion.”
A moment passed before he gave a soft chuckle, and his gaze, brimming with delight and want, locked with yours. “Please, my love.” He said lowly, needy. “Let me see those surely precious breasts you must have. I’ll be good, I promise.” He pleaded sweetly. “Take it off... just for me...”
His words only made you want to tease him more.
The diabolical glow in your eyes grew as you leaned forward, letting your thumb trace the line of his chin. You could feel the light tension in his posture, the way the red in his eyes darkened, his lips parting just a bit as he waited for... maybe a kiss? He wasn't quite sure with you. His hands on your waist tightened to pull you a bit closer, but you resisted, holding him at bay.
“Good, you say? I’d like to see that.” You tilted your head as if considering his plea. “Are you sure you’re capable of it?” Your fingers slid down his chest again, skimming over his nipples with your fingers just enough to provoke him a small shiver.
“More than capable.” He replied roughly for the restraint you demanded of him, but not being entirely sincere.
You breathed slowly as you caught his lie, but somehow, your desire for him only grew, knowing he didn’t intend to ‘be good’ with you at all.
Your hands went down to lift the hem of your shirt, but you didn’t pull it up yet. Instead, you let your fingers there. “If you want it so badly, Astarion,” you said softly, “you’ll have to ask again. Nicely.”
His expression shifted to one of purely wanting as he tightened his hands on you. “Please, my love,” he replied in a low tone. “Take it off.”
Finally, you slowly lifted your shirt to reveal your torso and the defined curves of your breasts, drawing the fabric over your head to set it aside on his bedroll and finally being completely naked to his eager stare. Astarion’s eyes glistened with a glow that spoke volumes as he devoured every detail of your flushed skin like a long-awaited treat. You couldn’t help but arrange your hair and adjust your bracelets; you felt a mix of nerves and exhilaration at his intense attention.
Astarion’s hands reached for your breasts with a speed that almost startled you, sinking his fingers into your supple flesh as he kneaded it and leaned forward. His lips found one of your nipples, capturing it along with a portion of your breast, sucking passionately before planting a warm kiss above your nipple. He repeated on its twin, savouring your body before finally looking up; the surprise etched on your face, the blush on your cheeks, and the widening of your eyes seemed to light pride in his gaze.
Astarion revelled in the comfy warmth of your flesh under his cool hands as he continued to knead and massage your breasts as thoroughly as it was slow. Trailing his lips down to run messy kisses along your sternum before returning to one of your breasts once more. He opened his mouth, homely, to get your flushed breast inside, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it, rumbling an eager hum. His hands went to your waist and your other breast to take care of it too, holding you as you leaned against him with a soft moan escaping your lips. He seemed almost like a starved child desperately seeking milk from his mother's breast.
After a long, leisurely moment, he pulled away with a final and slow brush of his tongue over your nipple; his lips glistened with saliva from his attention. A desire that seemed to consume him was burning in his eyes, and when they met yours, a slow smile spread across his face. “You know,” he murmured, “I could lose myself in you like this, so easily.” His fingers slowly contoured your waist. “But I’ll need more than just this beautiful view.” He leaned in to graze his lips on your ear and whispered, “Imagine, darling, how it’ll feel when I’m deep inside you—how I’ll make you forget everything else, until all you can think of... is me.”
Your body received a delicious tremble, an almost inaudible moan escaping your lips because of the intensity of his voice saying those words to you. Your fingers tangled in his hair to pull him closer, feeling yourself getting wetter. The simple thought of him inside you, fucking you until your legs couldn't respond any more, grew your pulse faster.
As his hands wandered lower, the ache between your thighs grew unbearable—the need to have his cock growling in your throat; you could barely stand it. Impatiently, you moved to straddle his thighs, finding with your hands his waistband.
“I need you, Astarion.” Your plea spilt out unprocessed, begging for him to end the teasing and give you what you craved. “Please take them off. I can’t wait any longer. Finish what you started.” The final word fell from your lips almost like a cry, leaving no doubt that you were beyond ready, beyond wanting. You needed him—now.
Astarion chuckled as he looked at your hands, tracing his abdomen. He laid back slightly against his soft pillows, clearly enjoying how you were so eager for him, but he didn’t move anyway. Instead, his eyes flickered to your fingers as they were about to start tugging his waistband, and his lips curled up.
“Please, Astarion.” You pleaded again. “I can't take it any more. Stop teasing me. Take them off. Please.”
He hummed, amused, with a wicked glint in his crimson eyes. “Ah, so desperate, are we?” His eyes slid downward, pausing to take in the way your pussy soaked through his fabric, already dripping as you set yourself on his thighs. “Look at that sweet little cunt of yours, dripping for me already.” As soon as he finished speaking, he let out a soft chuckle. “Can’t wait to feel me inside, I see.”
You furrowed your brows in some annoyance at his incessant chatter that only made your patience thinner. But then, his demeanour shifted nonchalantly, capturing your attention when he propped his hands up on the bedroll and lifted his pelvis fluidly, giving you room to slide his trousers out of his legs.
“Help yourself, darling.” He purred softly with that grin on his lips.
You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing down, captivated by his posture. When your eyes fell to his crotch, where your hands had settled either side, you saw the clear shape of his rigid cock outlined beneath the fabric, straining against the material and angled a little to one side. The thickness and length were evident, making your entrance painfully clench around nothing and heat your cheeks.
‘How didn't I look at it before?’ Your breath hitched at the graphic, raw sight of it—exquisite and so irresistibly tempting. The aching sensation in your pussy grew, not just from the visual but from the rush of desire that quickly followed. Despite yourself, your eyes went back to his face, finding that same teasing, excited expression as though he were daring you to take the next step.
As you began to slide your fingers inside the waistband of his trousers, you brushed lightly his skin, sending a shiver to your fingertips.
And then, pulling his trousers down, you slowly revealed more inches of his pelvis and his white curls, and you could feel his intense gaze smouldering into you. His cock twitched against the fabric, building your excitement until it sprang free, making you inhale sharply at the sight. Your eyes traced his exposed skin as you slid the fabric the rest of the way down his legs. A soft rustle marked their removal from his ankles, and he lay naked before you.
His erect length was blushed and visibly soft, with subtle veins running up from its base, contrasting sharply against his swollen, rosy head. The pale expanse of his skin was almost luminescent; only the tip of his cock seemed all the more vivid. And there was precum already seeping from its slit, a trail that slid down to his sac.
For a brief, delicious moment, you simply stared. The long shape with a slightly tapered head was just stunning, and it made you realise just how perfectly he would enter and fill you. You couldn’t help but let your fingers drift to your clit, stimulating lightly to ease the relentless ache building. The wet heat spread between your thighs, growing stronger as you took in every detail.
A subtle sigh left your lips, caused by the strong beating of your puffy bud against your fingers. You traced the ridges of his hips with the other hand before brushing over from the base to the tip of his cock. It was warm, soft but firm with the ridges of its veins, and the precum that gathered there only added to its silkiness.
Your mind raced with thoughts you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to process—how new this was, how thrilling and unfamiliar it felt yet so drawn by it. Astarion was nothing like the lovers you had before. You didn’t have a long list of conquests, and that made your inexperience clear. But the way he looked at you and how his moves commanded every piece of your attention drew you deeper into something you were both eager and frightened to experience.
Without thinking any longer, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, feeling its thickness as you slowly began to stroke him in sync with your own stimulation, smoothing with your thumb the head with each pass. His lips allowed a low, appreciative sigh to escape him, sending a wave of emotion through you and racing your pulse. And with one final glance up at his face, you slowly positioned yourself between his thighs to lay down and let your stomach rest on his bedroll.
As you let your lips hover near the tip of his cock, you could feel the heat radiating from him and smell the intoxicating scent of his arousal as he smelt yours. You could almost drool at the sight before you—how you see the shift in his expression—from humour to impatience. The anticipation was exhausting for both of you, but you didn’t rush. Instead, you kissed the tip tenderly, feeling the weight of him against your lips before letting your tongue slip out where his glans started to the high point. Tasting the warmth and saltiness of his cock because of his precum.
You felt the coolness of the storm kissing you and of the bedroll beneath your stomach, grounding you as your hands remained on him, steady and assured. Astarion’s thighs tensed under your touch, caught between the impulse to take control and the pleasure of simply letting you explore at your own pace.
Each time your thumb swept over his tip, his cock twitched, responding to the rhythm of your touch and your lips. You swirled your tongue around his head, licking clean the precum that had gathered there and along his length. The taste was different than you expected—rich and heady, like a Vermentino wine, lingering on your tongue in a way that was deeply intriguing.
The low sounds slipping from his lips spurred you on as you pressed messy kisses to his length and tip, tracing with your tongue the subtle lines and ridges of his shaft. His sharp intake of breath told you just how deeply he felt every small touch, and the sheer pleasure in that knowledge emboldened you further.
“Mm, look at you,” he purred, honestly surprised and pleased. “Not so shy now, are we, darling?” His words were meant to tease as always, but the note of admiration was unmistakable, making clear just how captivated he truly was.
Your eyes met his quietly before slowly lowering your mouth to take him inch by inch. The stretch of him filled your cavity as you went deeper, feeling his rigidity slide against your tongue. You let inside more of him until you felt his tip reach the back of your throat and the hair on his pelvis brushing your nose. His reaction, the involuntary twitch, and the low hum from him sent a thrill through you as you adjusted him inside your mouth, savouring the moment.
As you set a slow up-down with your head, Astarion’s lips started to make soft, broken sounds that were like a lyrical to your ears, urging you to continue. His hand reached out to rest on the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he let out a silent growl. The anxiety in his grip was obvious, yet he kept his touch gentle, guiding without forcing and letting you take the lead, trembling under your care.
You slid your hands down his thighs, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingers and feeling how his body responded to you. Each time you drew him deeply, your tongue caressed his lower vein, lavishing attention on every inch of him that his cock met with an appreciative palpitation.
Astarion moaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Slow down, my love... Let me enjoy this.” He breathed as he allowed you to fully take him, his hips flexing slightly. His fingers tightened slowly in your hair, a silent encouragement for you to continue as he gave himself completely over to you.
With one hand still supported on his thigh, you drifted the other to his sac to massage it gently inside your palm. The action caused a louder moan from him, his hips jiggling involuntarily as you kept your mouth moving steady and more slowly, never breaking your rhythm. His low groans came quicker and even rougher, sounds of pleasure spilling freely now like an invitation to go on, filling the tent and dispersing the strong rain outside.
He moved his hand from your hair to your cheek and stopped you momentarily, cradling it in a surprisingly tender gesture as he glanced down at you. “Look at me while you do it, my darling...” He sighed, gently caressing you. “Feel how hard you make me...” His head fell back once more, unable to hold back a guttural growl as you continued with an intensified sucking, feeling his cock pulse and grow impossibly hard against your tongue.
With a measured squeeze, you tightened your grip on his sac, rolling it delicately with your fingers while your other hand remained anchored on his thigh. They trembled involuntarily, just like his cock, each movement drawing a delicious reaction until he could no longer keep still, his hips instinctively arching towards your mouth.
His hand returned to the back of your head, gripping tightly as your tongue traced the underside of his cock. All of him seemed to shiver under your touch, and he still allowed you to take control, guiding him into this sweet, little death.
But, after a few moments, you let his cock slip free from your lips with a slow drag, watching it emerge slick in your saliva and instantly cling to his lower belly because of its hardness. The dampness left a glistening trail between your mouth and him, breaking only as you leaned back, lifting a hand to wipe the last of the moisture from your mouth. He let out a disappointed sigh at the loss of you, then looked down to watch how you had left him all reddish-coloured with a sheen because of his precum mixed with your saliva.
Without a word, you rose on your knees and moved to straddle his hips, feeling the firm press of his thighs beneath your ass cheeks as you settled your weight onto him. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, gripping your sides in a way that felt almost impossible to avoid.
You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing between your folds—a solid, delicious presence. Each pulsate of its head against the own palpitations of your puffy bud felt incredible.
Bracing your hands against his chest, you pressed down gently and took a moment to enjoy the feel of him, tracing the lines that defined his chest with your fingers. His eyes were locked on you, watching the way your pussy just wrapped around his cock.
Gradually, you began to move your hips, grinding down your clitoris onto his glans with a slowed tempo that turned faster. The friction was amazing as you brushed against his slick skin, adding a sensuous layer of lubrication as you moved back and forth against his perfectly nestled cock. You could feel yourself drenching him wetter, mixing your juices with the slickness left from your previous oral.
His hungry gaze roamed over your pelvis, tightening his grip on your waist as he let out a rough sigh, savouring the way your pussy slid so enticingly along his shaft until you leaned forward. Repositioning your weight on one hand, you reached down to trace your fingers along his length, wrapping around it to guide it upwards. You pressed the tip on your entrance, dragging it slowly along your slit, feeling it start to pulse against your inner lips. His lower lip formed a slight pout as you continued to tease, drawing the moment out with almost cruel patience.
But with a final pass, you positioned him straight to your entrance, vacillating just on the edge, and looked at his face to watch his reaction—the way his eyes were focused on your pussy, waiting for you to cut the last bit of separation. Then, with a slow downward, you began to sink him inside, feeling the exquisite stretch his tip made as he filled you, inch by inch, making your walls instantly clench around him for the sudden fullness.
He let out a pleased moan, now holding harder your hips as you settled onto him completely, feeling so deep and stretching you deliciously wide after so many years of solitude. The warm pulse of him between your walls, every subtle movement of his length—an insistent throb—made you simply sit there for a moment. Letting yourself adjust to the sensation of him fully within you and the friction of your clit as it rubbed against his silvery pubic hair. He flicked up his eyes to meet yours with an intensity that made his eagerness clear as he waited for you to move.
You gently cupped his face and caressed his pointy ear, the other hand resting over his shoulder. You softly brought his face closer to yours, locking your eyes on his.
“Astarion...” You whispered. “Can you feel it? How incredible this is?” You gave him a dulcet smile before closing the distance, pressing your lips against his as you traced the line of his cheekbone and chest, feeling his pulse beneath your fingers.
Gently, you lifted yourself just slightly to sink back down, the exquisite friction sending a burst of pleasure through both of you. Astarion’s grip on you tensed again, tightening as his hips surged up to meet yours, letting out a low, throaty noise. Your lips remained together, deepening the kiss as your mouths moved in time with your bodies, setting a slow, constant pace where you rose and fell smoothly over him.
The sounds of your bodies intertwined moving together began to fill the surrounding little space—the slapping of skin on skin, the lewd, sensual noises of your pussy swallowing his cock over and over again blending with the muffled moans, and the relentless raindrops against the canvas.
He forcefully gripped your hips to dictate you, abruptly being the one controlling the pace as he broke the kiss to catch his breath. His lips hovered close, both hot exhales mingling as you rested your forehead against his, matching your rhythm. The tantalising climax drew closer and closer with every thrust, making everything else seem distant, the storm outside being insignificant compared to the tempest building between you.
His hands roamed over your body, tracing your spine before one circled your waist and the other gripped the back of your shoulder to pull you closer, urging you to press down against him more fully.
The deeper you sank, the more you felt him smack against your vaginal walls so passionately. You leaned forward, your hands wrapping either side of his waist and slightly digging your nails into his skin as you picked up the pace. The position shifted just enough to drive him pleasantly deeper in each downward stroke, with a perfect angle that made his tip hammer against your cervix.
Suddenly, the hand against your shoulder gripped your cheeks, pulling you down to capture your lips in another hungry kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, both tasting the other's mouth, becoming something truly addicting, as if he just seemed to want to devour you whole, and you couldn't satisfy your own craving. His hand slid to your nape as the kiss deepened, just like the rhythm of both pelvises grew faster.
Every thrust proved how he was losing himself, both of you spiralling higher and higher. He whimpered against your lips, a sound that vibrated deep in your mouth, feeling the tension coiling tighter within your lower belly, your body feeling worn out as it yearned for release.
His hands were everywhere—guiding, pulling, encouraging. You couldn’t help but moan against his lips, the pleasure overwhelming as your movements grew more frantic. He was holding you just right, pressing his open thighs up against your ass cheeks, lifting you just enough to make you feel perfectly aligned with his cock.
His lips parted from yours with a shaky groan as he looked up at you, consumed by the burning need you were becoming. At that moment, with the weight of your hips moving over his, your voice came out shaky, broken by the effort of holding yourself glued to him. “Am I... am I doing it right?”
The question left you trembling because of its vulnerability, making your pulse race as though the very act of asking had laid bare everything you hid beneath that little girl you were for him. You felt so desperate for his confirmation, for him to tell you that this was all he wanted.
For a moment, he looked as if he was caught off guard, eyes widening just a fraction before he composed himself.
Then his hands tightened his grasp on both your ass cheeks with determination. He pressed your hips down more strongly, making his cock burry inside you to the hilt and making your lips crush against his pelvis. “Do you feel that?” He kept pressing you down harder, grinding his hips up to meet yours. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, and it’s perfect. Move just like that—don’t stop.” The words slipped out raw and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t hold them back.
The way he said that broke whatever fragile restraint you’d managed to hold onto, unleashing a fierce, unstoppable heat within you. The only thing that existed now was him—all of him—buried balls deep inside you, turning every nerve in almost an animalistic way.
An uncontrollable need surged through you, overtaking all thoughts, as your hips immediately started to move impulsively, slamming down against his. Your body was just demanding to take everything from him, driven by a thirst he had created that couldn’t be denied. The ache of his cock stretching your entrance open and filling you that much was the divine sensation of him, the incredible pleasure of his flawless body moving exactly in time with and inside yours.
You were in pursuit of more—more of him, more of this satisfying connection. You let out a series of desperate moans, each one of them spurring you both deeper into your carnal urges, neither of you able to stop. The immediateness of it overtook you both. Your breathing was ragged as the intense pressure built, feeling him fully as he lifted his hips to force his cock impossibly inside you, aligning you just right, so deep that you could feel it in your very bones. The edge of your release was so close.
His hands dug into your ass, pulling you more forcefully against him to guide your frantic pace and stoke the fire on your clitoris as his pelvis writhed beneath it. “Just a little more...” He growled, strained, like a man on the edge of breaking. “I’m so close, love…” His words were almost a pleading cry, a raw reflection of the need that overtook him because of you.
You could feel it, see it—his control slipping away, his body trembling beneath yours as his hands gripped your hips now to urge you on, both bodies acting just like animals in heat do with an almost agonising intensity that could leave your womb aching for days. You both moved harder and faster, slapping together with an unbreakable pace. The pressure in your core was unbearable now, so close to snapping that it made your legs shake in both of the sides of his hips with the effort of holding on.
Suddenly, one of his hands slid between your bodies, finding your clitoris to circle his thumb over the painfully swollen nub with expert knowledge. Just like if he was already aware of how to trigger your sensitive spots to push you to the heavens. The friction was impossible to bear in the best, perfect possible way, making you cry in pleasure, unable to control the whimpers that tore from your throat.
You couldn’t hold back any more. His touch, the pressure, the movements of his body—it all became too much. The tension inside you snapped, and with a loud and uncontrolled moan, your walls tightly clenched and pulsated around him, your climax crashing over you in pure, consuming pleasure. Hitting you so hard that you felt like you were floating, holding on to him with the tremors of your hips.
But Astarion didn’t stop. He never ceased the maddening stimulation on your clit or fucking your cunt, coaxing another renovated sensation from you, pushing you past the point of stimulation. You tried to pull away to catch your breath, but his hands clamped down, forcing you to stay in the moment, allowing him to draw even more from you. He was relentless as the need to overstimulate you took control.
“Don’t stop, not now.” He gasped, his voice breaking as he thrust up into you harder, his thumb continuing to rub and circle your bud, trying to force your body into another climax. “I need you, my love. Please…”
The words were the spark that made you give in with a desperate cry as ecstasy crashed over you, smashing everything. You felt him pulsating and releasing with a ragged, almost feral growl, leaving his sweet lips, his body quivering beneath yours as he exploded into you, the rush of his climax pushing you to the edge. The sensation of his warm semen spurting against your cervix and filling you sent you into your second release of the night, the new pressure in your body finally exploding in waves of sheer. The powerful sensations of both of you reaching that peak at the same time made your vision blur.
Every spurt of his release throbbed deep within your womb, drawing low, tired moans from your lips as his cock continued its task to fill you, spreading his seed inside you with each pulse of the head. You pressed your hips down, grinding to take him impossibly deeper as your labia were already crushed against his damp pelvis, letting you feel every twitch and tremor between your aching walls. He groaned softly as he tightened his grip on your hips, and you fucked his cock instinctively in answer to coax out every last shudder from him.
His hands guided your hips to keep you pressed down hard as his cock stroked every sensitive inch of your walls, filling you in a way that made some of his cum slowly spill out from your pussy. Your bodies met again and again, making him feel unable to resist the pull of you as you moved perfectly up and down, simply feeling lost in you as you milked him.
Then, you both collapsed together, sweaty bodies shaking with the intensity of your simultaneous culmination and the aftershocks of your climaxes, leaving you both drained. Your breaths came intermittently, laboured, and it felt as though the camp outside had momentarily ceased to exist. The air between you was impregnated with the smell of sex and your scents, but there was also something tender about the way your bodies were embracing each other that made you feel... nice.
Astarion’s hands moved with a strange gentleness now, gliding up your back with soothing strokes in the cosiness of the moment. His lips pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, his breath still unsteady with a warmness that contrasted the freshness of your lovemaking and the way his cock kept pulsating while softening within you.
He dragged you against him. “Are you alright, darling?” His voice abruptly soft, touched with... care, concern; an unknown tenderness that caught you by surprise.
You nodded against his shoulder. “Yes…” you murmured, fluttering closed as exhaustion settled in and the comfort of his presence lulled you, feeling his quick heartbeat beneath your ear. “Just... give me a second.”
A sweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, looking at you with adoration as he brushed a damp lock of hair away from your face, fingers running gently over your neck. “I’ll admit, I didn't think I’d be the one left wanting more… but here I am.” He said quietly. “That, my love, was truly something else for someone so lovely.” He pressed another sweet kiss to your cheek, remaining just a little before pulling away.
You let out a shaky laugh, the closeness between you both grounding your still-tingling nerves. Lifting your head slightly and reopening your eyes, you met his gaze with a warmth that made your heart swell. “You know,” you started, “I might just have to keep you around a little longer. You’ve made it hard for me to want anyone else, Astarion.” You reached to cradle his cheek as your hidden confession floated in the air between you.
He leaned into your touch, his hand hovering over yours in a loving gesture. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?” Astarion said, feigning frustration, though his eyes softened with a rare sincerity in his voice. “I had plans, you know. But it seems I’m not allowed to have anything for myself any more.” He let out a mock sigh. “Guess I’m yours, darling. For now. Don’t get too comfortable with it.”
You smiled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, how tragic,” you teased with mock frustration as well. “I didn’t realise you had such grand plans, Astarion. How terribly cruel of me to steal you away from them.” Your fingers gently traced the edge of his ear, a smirk playing on your lips. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll learn to live with it. Just try not to get too comfortable, either, darling.”
Astarion let out a soft chuckle, his fingers leaving your hand to cup your cheek tenderly. “Well, well, what a vile little thing you are,” he said with a playful smirk, grazing your cheekbone with his thumb. “Using that sweet face of yours to get your way... You really do enjoy this, don’t you?” His laugh was light, almost like a caress, before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss that left you aware of all the emotions he couldn’t express using words.
He held the kiss for a moment to savour your lips before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he basked in the shared closeness.
After that, he slowly adjusted your position so that you lay more comfortably against him. Once settled, he pulled a soft blanket over you both, wrapping his arms around you snugly.
“Rest now, my love.” He murmured softly. You felt his words settle over you like a soft lullaby, and you snuggled closer to place yourself against him, wrapping your arm gently around his waist.
There, in his embrace, you let yourself fully relax in the quiet comfort of the moment with the rain outside. The feeling of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the gentle sweep of his fingers through your hair and your arm—it was everything you needed, a perfect, tender end to the passion from minutes ago.
With a contented sigh, you pressed a soft kiss against his chest before your eyelids started to grow heavy as you drifted into a peaceful calm in his arms.
As the hours passed, the heat of the night slowly faded, leaving you both tangled in each other’s embrace. You both drifted into sleep, your bodies still flushed and sweaty from the intensity of your passion that night. Astarion’s arm was wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The odd warmth of his body against yours was comforting.
As the soft light of dawn filtered through the tent, the storm was now nothing more than a distant memory, and a sudden weight pressed down on you.
Your mind, still slow to fully wake, started to be flooded with vivid recollections—the sex, the words shared, the undeniable connection you felt...
A sharp pang of awareness hit you as you became acutely aware of every quiet sound. 'Had I really just done that?' The question lingered in your mind, though it wasn’t that you regretted it—not with him, not when everything felt so unexpectedly right. But still, a knot tightened in your throat. You’d never been this irresponsible before, never allowed this kind of situation with someone you’d only known for a couple of months.
You slowly pulled yourself from Astarion's embrace. The warmth of his body left a mark on your skin nonetheless. As you sat up, the blanket tangled around your hips, and a sudden rush of cool air hit your naked chest, causing an uninvited shiver to you that woke you a little more.
Your eyes drifted to him, still peacefully asleep beside you. His bare chest rose and fell in slowly, and his expression was soft and relaxed in the morning, a sharp contrast to the intensity of your previous night.
While you stood there, tracing with your eyes his form, the weight of what had just happened was still pressing heavily above your shoulders. Embarrassment crept in, not just for the passion you’d shared but for the place you were in—his tent, in camp, with your friends only a few meters away. The unsettling thought wormed its way into your mind: what if they’d heard you?
Your eyes flicked towards the opening of the tent, a bead of cold sweat rolling down the back of your neck. You pressed your palm to your forehead, the reality sinking in. What if they had? The embarrassment felt like it was growing, and you had to swallow back the rising anxiety carving in your chest.
The thoughts swirled and twisted in your mind. Reaching for your shirt, you slowly sat up a bit more; you felt a sting pain in your muscles from the night’s activities. Your fingers fumbled clumsily to the fabric as the weight of your thoughts made everything feel more difficult. You tried to dress as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb the fragile calm of his slumber.
The texture felt harsh against your sensitive skin, while the cool morning air grazed over the parts of you exposed and between your thighs as you raised the shirt over your head to dress it.
Just as you finally managed to pull it into place, you caught a soft shift beside you. Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, his vision still cloudy with sleep, but his attention immediately locked onto you. He didn’t speak right away; his focus was on the way you moved.
He curved his lips into a small, lazy smile. There was a softness in his expression now that you didn't see before. “Good morning... sneaking off already?” He sighed with the remnants of sleep in his tone. He looked down to where your fingers grabbed the fabric of your shirt, then back to your face, his smile growing wider. His hand reached out to grab your arm, pulling you back towards him gently. “Didn't peg you as the type to leave me after our first time, darling...”
The way he still wanted you close stirred something within you—a warmth despite the storm of emotions inside you. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the thought. “I wasn’t going anywhere...” You replied quietly.
Astarion’s hand moved to your waist, his touch fierce yet tender as he pulled you closer, guiding you to lay back completely against his body. His chest pressed against your back as he nestled his chin in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses there. You could feel the weight of him, enveloping you in a way that was both comforting and deeply intimate.
His arm wrapped securely around your waist, drawing you even nearer as he gently adjusted his position, making sure you were comfortable. You could feel the tension in your body melt as his movements spoke of quiet care, though the nervousness inside you didn’t entirely dissipate.
He must have sensed the shift in your mood. “Is everything alright?” Astarion murmured softly, concerned. His lips brushed over your ear as he spoke, a gentle kiss to your cheek that seemed to reassure you, though you couldn’t quite shake the lingering anxiety that clung to you.
“I... I just—” You broke off. “What if they heard us, Astarion?”
“We’re safe, darling,” he murmured, his voice a soothing caress that chased away the remnants of your worry. “No one knows a thing. The storm was our shield last night.”
Astarion’s hand lingered at your waist as he shifted his weight, guiding you gently. And with a slight motion, he turned you to lie on your back and face him fully. His gaze locked onto yours, his crimson eyes glimmering with something unspoken. He propped himself on an elbow beside you, sliding his other hand from your waist to cradle your cheek.
Seeing the faint worry lingering in your eyes, he offered a small, tender smile. “You know, love,” he began, “this is different. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. I never imagined I’d feel like this—like I’d actually want this... someone.” His thumb brushed softly over your cheekbone, as if the gesture alone could convey what words struggled to express. “Last night wasn’t just indulgence, not with you. It was... real.”
The way he looked at you then was as though he’d laid down his armour, revealing a part of himself you’d only glimpsed. “I’ve spent centuries taking what I was told to, living by someone else’s twisted desires. Wanting something—someone—for myself? I’d almost forgotten what that even felt like.” He hesitated. “But here we are... and being with you, feeling this... it’s more than I ever dared to hope for.”
Your breath caught, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest feel both heavy and light at once. You swallowed, a warmth blossoming where your anxiety had been. “I want you to know that I meant every word,” he whispered against your ear.
As he drew back, his fingers entwined with yours, and he gave you a small smile, one filled with that rare sincerity he reserved just for you. “So, let’s not let the world outside intrude on this, hmm?” His eyes gleamed with a quiet plea. “Not yet.”
The words hung in the warm morning light, soothing the unease within you. Astarion shifted slightly again to recline back onto the soft bedroll, pulling you with him. You instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him close.
But as your fingers traced along his side, you brushed against something you forgot. A faint crease formed between your brows as you looked down. There was the bandage you had tied the night before, stained with a faint bloom of red where his wound lay concealed. A quiet ache of worry unfurled in your chest as your hand rested against the edge of the bandage.
Without thinking, your fingers traced lightly over his abdomen, avoiding the more sensitive area near the bandage. “Astarion,” you called softly with a new urgency. “Are you... alright? I might’ve moved too much last night.”
Astarion’s eyes opened a bit more as he recognised the genuine concern in your voice. “Oh, my love,” he purred with a smirk on his lips as he glanced down to where your hand rested on his stomach. “If anyone could survive your... enthusiasm, it would be me.” His tone softened as he covered your hand with his.
You bit your lip, the persistent worry stirring as you recalled the intensity of the night before. “Still, I should've been more careful with you,” you replied with a faint blush warming your cheeks. “I didn’t even think about it last night... I just... wanted you.”
He shifted slightly, pulling you closer until your foreheads touched, his lips barely brushing yours as he spoke again. “Believe me, last night... was everything I never knew I needed,” he said, with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You've given me a moment of calmness I never thought I’d experience again.”
Your hand pressed lightly against his chest; he let out a quiet, contented sigh. His own hand drifted down to rest against your waist, drawing you even closer.
He brushed his lips softly against the tip of your nose, placing a sweet kiss there before he spoke. “The truth is, I’m not used to someone worrying over me. I’ve learnt to dismiss my wounds and to push through the pain alone. You make me feel seen, darling…”
A soft smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back just enough to catch your gaze, reaching with his hand your cheek to rub his thumb along your cheekbone in a gentle, absent-minded swipe. Your heart softened as you wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself melt. You nestled closer to him, the soft heat of his body a constant pull as your fingers traced lightly over his skin, careful not to touch the bandage.
Astarion’s fingers moved in slow strokes along your back, his touch lingering at the small of your waist. The quiet way his body urged you nearer made your pulse race in a way that was both comforting and thrilling. You could feel the passion of the night still lingering in the air between you, a magnetic pull that only seemed to deepen the longer you were in his presence.
“You know,” he murmured lowly, his velvety voice wrapping around your thoughts. He leaned in, his lips brushing over yours as he closed his eyes briefly. “I find myself wanting more.”
A small shiver of anticipation ran through you. He moved slightly, shifting his body to bring you closer, his hand sliding down your side until he could grab one of your buttocks. It stirred something inside of you—something that made it hard to breathe, hard to think.
You pressed your lips to his to give him a soft kiss before pulling back to meet his eyes. The intensity in his look made you ache with longing. “Astarion, are you sure you’re alright?” You asked softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing with something dark and intense, and then he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and sensual, tasting of the night and everything you’d shared. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet eagerness, and you let yourself melt into him, your hand sliding to his waist, feeling the bandage beneath your palm.
But you pulled back slightly, concern flitting through your mind again. Astarion’s eyes glimmered, his expression a blend of amusement and something achingly vulnerable. “Darling,” he replied, his voice a rough, affectionate murmur. “I can handle anything you give me.”
You leaned into him, grazing your lips with his as you spoke, “I just want to make sure you're alright... I don’t want to push—” Without letting you finish, he leaned forward to kiss your lips again to silence you. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet desperation, a demand for attention.
Astarion’s hands slowly roamed your sides as he shifted, positioning himself above you on the bedroll. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating into yours, his thighs pressed tightly against yours.
Your hands moved instinctively, sliding around his waist, bracing yourself against his lower back, feeling the curve of his muscles tense under your touch. The kiss deepened, slow and calm, as if he tasted every inch of you, pushing any lingering uncertainty away.
One of his hands moved to catch your hand and entwine his fingers with yours before pressing your hand down against the pillow. His other hand found your other wrist, lifting it gently above your head and pinning it there, his grip firm yet laced with a sensual care that only deepened your wanting of him. His thighs pressing tighter against yours.
Astarion’s breath was shallow against your lips as he finally broke the kiss to meet your gaze, his pupils wide with a need that mirrored your own, his mouth curving into a wicked smile as he held you in place. The subtle weight of him, combined with the feeling of his fingers interlocked with yours, created an undeniable sense of belonging, a wordless claim that ignited every nerve.
“Don’t worry about me,” he murmured roughly because of his desire, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Just stay here. With me. That’s all I need.”
Cuck series victim number 3 and winner of the poll: naoya!!!
Bro. I. FUCKING. HATE. NAOYA.
Struggled to get thru this one. Idk why. Sorry it took so long.
Tags: fem!reader, cheating, softdom!gojo, breeding, tw for mentions of past abuse and sexual violence (this IS naoya we’re talking about…), naoya is an abuser with a small dick, gojo is better in every way and it’s not even close, naoya hate and gojo glaze, I’m not sorry about this one, idk how to write naoya cuz I literally only see him as a whiny bitch so that’s what he is in this, gojo lowkey aurafarming the whole time, got lazy at the end yet again
—
You know what your husband, Naoya, was expecting to see when he got home from his latest mission.
A clean house. Dinner being cooked. Tea on the table. You, on your knees, waiting patiently to do his bidding.
What he didn’t expect to see was you riding Satoru Gojo’s cock into oblivion.
Loud, blissful moans ring from your lips, your hips not pausing even for a second although you know for a fact that your husband is standing mere feet behind you in the bedroom door. You’re not scared like you usually would be. Not with Satoru here.
Naoya is shocked for a moment, a rare occurrence really, before he’s immediately enraged. “What-…WHAT THE HELL?!”
Still, you don’t stop, and Satoru only chuckles lowly from where he’s leaning back against the headboard like it’s his own bed. He’s known, of course. He knew when Naoya would get back. He knew you wouldn’t stop. He knew how the other man would react. It’s the whole point of Satoru being here, meticulously planned just to watch your pathetic husband blow a gasket.
“Ah- Naoya.” He greets smoothly, his voice only hitching slightly from the way you squeeze around him. “I guess not all of the Zen’in Clan are as welcoming as your wife here.”
Naoya’s eye twitches. His body jerks forward before stopping. For once in his useless life, he’s speechless. Any other man would be dead right now. You’d be dead right now. But, stupid and arrogant as he is, even Naoya knows he can’t beat Satoru Gojo…in anything, apparently. Satoru knows that, too.
Grinning smugly at younger man, Satoru grabs your hips to slow your eager bouncing. You whine and pout, nails digging into his firm shoulders, but you obey. He chuckles fondly, caressing your waist with his big hands.
“I know, sweetheart.” He coos, rolling his hips up slowly into yours to keep you stimulated and nodding towards the doorway. “Gotta talk with your husband, though…”
Frowning, you tear your eyes from Satoru’s pretty face to meet a much worse sight. Instinctively, you tense up a bit, shrinking back, but the hands on your waist move up to soothe your tight muscles. Naoya watches as you oh-so-willingly let Satoru pull you down against his chest for comfort.
Unable to hold back anymore, he speaks up angrily, his voice a forceful growl as he glares daggers at you. “You…you stupid bitch! What are you doing? Whoring yourself out for another man?”
He takes a step closer, then another, finally growing the balls to step into his own bedroom, before freezing once again. Naoya has felt fear, of course, even if it’s rare. A particularly strong cursed spirit or enemy might make him a bit nervous.
But this is different.
This is rigid, cold, bone-deep dread. The kind that crawls down every inch of his body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. There’s a weight to it, too. Heavy, solid, like an immovable force weighing millions of tons pressing down on his shoulders.
It makes Naoya freeze.
It makes you press closer to Satoru.
It makes Satoru grin.
It’s just then that Naoya realizes Satoru’s blindfold is hanging loosely around his neck.
“Now, now…” Satoru purrs, stroking a hand up and down your back to keep you nice and close. “Let’s not get all worked up, Naoya.”
Naoya grits his teeth, scowling angrily at the other man even as his whole body breaks out in a nervous, cold sweat.
“So angry.” Satoru observes, chuckling easily. “How about you have a seat? Take a load off after your mission, huh?”
Following the way Satoru nods, Naoya’s eyes land on a chair near the bed that definitely wasn’t there before. His temper flares even, hotter and more violent this time. A fucking cuck chair? Naoya Zen’in is no pathetic cuck-
“Sit.”
Satoru’s voice is colder now, harder like some law written permanently into stone. Undeniable. Absolute.
You shiver again, and he reaches up to stroke your hair soothingly.
Icy blue eyes watch unblinkingly as Naoya moves almost robotically, the instinctive need to survive clearly outweighing his reluctance to put himself in such a humiliating position. Once he’s sitting, the pressure in the room lifts slightly, and Satoru smiles again.
“Good! Now…” He pauses for a second, holding you close as he carefully lays you down to switch positions, listening to your sweet little whimpers as he shifts inside you. “You’re gonna watch and learn how a man is supposed to treat a woman.”
Now looming over you, Satoru gently lifts one of your legs up over his shoulder, keeping the other one folded out and open. He holds you so gently, his strong hands running over your thighs and up your waist before one of them goes even further to cup your cheek. You lean into it, of course, looking up at him with a need and affection Naoya has never inspired in you.
Satoru gives a gentle roll of his hips, testing if you’re ready to keep going. When you arch and moan softly, he gives your cheek a fond little caress. Pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in slowly, he starts a moderate pace, easier than the one you’d had when you were riding him moments ago.
“Is that good, baby?” He purrs out, grinning as you immediately nod and moan.
Grabbing your hands he gently pulls them up to his body, guiding your palms down his firm chest and chiseled abs, watching your eyes go all wide and doe-like as you feel his muscles flexing with each thrust.
“How many times have you cum, hm?” Satoru grins at the way your eyes dart up to his, flustered and shy now. “C’mon…Tell your husband how good I make you feel.”
Glancing over, you see Naoya in his stupid little chair, his arms crossed and his knee bouncing like he’s trying not to rip his hair out from being so angry. He’s not looking at the spectacle you and Satoru make, either. He’s staring at the wall or out the window, glaring at nothing because he’s pissed off about being bossed around like this. God, if he got his hands on you after this…
Swallowing lightly, you look back up at Satoru, your hands squeezing lightly where they hold onto his arms as if to remind yourself of the infinite safety he provides. “Ngh-…um…f-five?”
Satoru chuckles lightly at your cute little stutter, the way your mind is so fried you can barely even focus. He shakes his head and gives you a slightly harder thrust.
“Six, honey.” He corrects gently, although there’s a smugness in his tone that’s directed exclusively towards the other man in the room. “And how many times has he ever made you cum, huh?”
Now that one you know for sure. Naoya is selfish, uncaring, cruel, conceited…and the list goes on. A better question would be, ‘how many times has he made you feel good at all?’ An even better one would be ‘how many times has he ever actually made you want to sleep with him?’
The answer remains the same regardless.
“Z-zero.” You pant out, your breath catching as Satoru grinds his hips so good inside you.
That gets Naoya’s attention, his head snapping over like the concept of you actually speaking up in any way personally offends him. “That doesn’t matter, you fucking sl-.”
“My poor girl…” Satoru coos, not even glancing at Naoya as he interrupts him. “Should’ve come to save you much sooner, huh? I’m sorry.”
The concept of being ‘saved’ from this marriage has your eyes watering just a little, and Satoru notices immediately. He cups your cheek again, brushing his thumb under your eye before any tears can even fall. His hips give a few gentle pumps- just enough to distract you again and make you feel good.
“No tears…” He soothes, watching your eyes dry and go all big with pleasure again as he rolls into you. “After today, you’re never gonna be sad again…”
“What the fuck does that-!”
Naoya gets cut off by your own loud moan as Satoru pulls out and rams back in again, setting a rough pace now. You scramble to cling to him, nails scrabbling and digging into his meaty shoulders for dear life.
Satoru grunts as he rails into your needy little pussy, letting you scratch at his skin and cling to your hearts content. Meanwhile, he holds your thighs up and open, keeping you perfectly pinned to take every inch of his thick cock.
And god is he thick. And long. And big. And deep. And heavy. He’s everything and anything that Naoya will never be.
Naoya was, unfortunately, your first ever introduction to sex. Being coerced and forced into sex is one thing. Into bad sex is another. Into bad sex with a small dick is another.
But Satoru has been expanding your horizons since you met two months ago (something Naoya still has no idea about, the idiot). Satoru is not only fucking packing- he’s also kind, and gentle, and attentive, and focused more on your pleasure than his own. Every second with him is euphoric, even with your so-called husband watching.
So, your mind is almost immediately taken off the other man. Your brain and mouth can only babble one thing- “Satoru, Satoru, Satoru”.
The man in question grins, obviously proud of himself for making you feel so good. He thrusts harder, his thick tip smacking into your cervix over and over again, leaving sticky webs of precum stringing inside you and spilling out around his cock.
“That’s it…” He praises, smacking his hips down on yours and driving as deep as humanly possible. “Bein’ so good for me, huh?”
The praise makes your shudder, your body reacting instinctively to that low, smooth voice. Whining loudly, you nod in agreement, eyes rolling back as he stretches your legs just a little bit wider.
“Mhm…” Satoru chuckles, glancing at Naoya’s stiff form as he coos. “And we’re gonna get ya aaaall the way to ten, aren’t we?”
—
If there’s ever been a moment Naoya almost feels just slightly down on himself, it’s right now.
Not because you’re literally dissolving in a puddle of bliss- something he’s never cared to get you even remotely close to- no.
It’s because Satoru Gojo is just obviously as amazing as everyone says he is. At everything.
Satoru has you cradled in his arms, weeping tears of pure pleasure, still taking every inch like such a good girl even though you’re so overwhelmed. He really has gotten you to nine orgasms so far- and the tenth isn’t far off. Your whole body vibrates and shakes with the exhaustion of your muscles and the pure ecstasy of however many hours you’ve been at this.
“T-T-Toru- n-ngh-…” You slur out, weakly pawing at his biceps as he relentlessly rolls into you.
He’s not even going fast anymore- just grinding and rolling his hips steadily, rubbing smooth circles over your clit, kissing the tears off your cheeks, hugging your waist and cradling your head. Satoru absolutely adores you, that much is clear, and it pisses Naoya off.
He’s never been so annoyed before, and that’s saying something. The one man in the whole world Naoya can’t put up a fight against, and he’s fucking his property in his bed. It’s outrageous. It’s humiliating. It’s beyond the realm of disrespectful.
Arms crossed and knee still bouncing in agitation, Naoya rolls his eyes and deigns himself to glance down at you. To him, you look like a disgusting mess. Thank god he never cared to make you feel good if that’s what it looks like-
“Naoya…” Satoru chides, meeting the other mans gaze with a steady stare, as if he isn’t balls-deep in you right now. “You’ll keep those thoughts to yourself if you know what’s good for you. Lucky she’s too fucked-out to focus on you right now.”
Oh, had he said that out loud? Naoya scoffs, rolling his eyes again. As he cares about your feelings. As if he can be lectured like that- he’s a man and he can say whatever he wants.
Shaking his head a little as if only slightly irritated by a petulant child, Satoru looks back down at you. To him, you’re the most beautiful thing in the world right now- vulnerable and bare and gracing him with all the love you’ve never been able to give before.
“Gettin’ close, sugar? Hm?” He asks softly, rolling his hips just a bit firmer to get you off.
You nod helplessly, eyes squeezing shut as he works you over into your tenth orgasm. Your voice breaks so easily now, your entire body pushed to the absolute limits of your strength and stamina. The sticky ‘plap, plap, plap’ noise gets a bit louder as he drives into you, hitting that spot deep inside and rubbing your aching clit with steady circles.
“This one’s gonna feel soooo good, isn’t it?” He coos, leaning in closer to rumble in your ear. “Want me to make it better? Fill you up?”
Again, you nod and whine, whimpering out a sweet little ‘uh-huh’ that has his heart clenching. You’re just so cute- too fucking sweet to waste your life away on the arm of a miscreant like Naoya. Ugh, the thought makes his eyes roll every time…
“You’re gonna what?” And the eyeroll speaks up again, nearly making Satoru’s eye twitch as he glances at the other man. “‘Fill her up’? What if she gets pregnant?”
At least this time he’s saying something amusing. Satoru smirks as he watches Naoya shift angrily in his seat, always causing problems but too scared to actually get up and do something. He keeps pumping into you, keeping you nice and mindless so you don’t have to listen to this bullshit.
“What if she does?” Satoru repeats, pretending not to see the ‘problem’.
Naoya scowls, glancing down at you in disgust before meeting the other man’s infuriatingly smug gaze. “She’s my wife, meant to carry my heir. If you get her pregnant, she’ll be even more of a useless bitch than she is now.”
A little flicker of anger flashes through Satoru, but it only makes his smirk twitch a little. He’ll be damned if he gets worked up over a nobody like Naoya and ends up accidentally hurting you.
“You’re even dumber than you look, Naoya.” Satoru drawls, grinning as you clamp down on him and start arching as you reach your peak. “Y-you think…I’m leaving her here, with you, after this?”
Naoya blinks, seemingly surprised, as if he didn’t even think of the possibility that his ‘property’ would be actually stolen. But just as he starts to protest, you arch and whine and cum so hard for Satoru you start crying again.
Groaning, Satoru focuses on you again immediately. He strokes your clit and rolls deep into you, working you through it so smoothly. Voice low with pleasure, he crushes you to his chest and murmurs in your ear. “Atta girl, that’s a good fuckin’ girl…I’m gonna pump you so full, honey, just wait…”
“I just told you, you can’t!” Naoya raises his voice now, scowling and grimacing as you shake and cry in Satoru’s arms.
Gritting his teeth lightly now, Satoru starts pumping his hips just a bit faster, a bit harder, getting himself closer. You’re so fucking wet, so tight and sensitive, throbbing and squeezing around his big cock so good it’s making it impossible to hold back anymore. He goes back to ignoring Naoya now, letting your fucked-out moans drown out the grating noise of his voice.
“Hey!”
Satoru moans lowly as your nails claw down his strong back. He buries his face in your neck, scraping his teeth over the soft skin and laving his tongue over the marks left behind, licking up stray tears and sweat. Cock red and raw now, he only pumps harder, nailing you to the mattress as you cry and squeal and squirm under him.
“Hey!”
This time, Naoya actually tries to do something about this. He reaches out, moving faster than almost anyone’s eyes can track as he stands and reaches for you.
“Ngh- Idiot-.” Satoru scoffs, not even lifting his face from your neck.
Naoya growls in agitation as his hand is stopped in midair, pushing with all his might to get even a millimeter closer to grabbing you, but being stopped by the impenetrable wall that is Satoru Gojo’s technique. It’s infuriating for a fragile ego like Naoya’s, not being able to sink his fingers into your skin and rip you back into his possession.
Chuckling like he just knows this is killing the other man, Satoru only tucks you closer, keeping you safely wrapped up in the confines of his technique. “S-sit back down- ah- and w-watch.”
Naoya opens his mouth to argue again, only to shut up when that feeling comes back- the one that makes him feel like he’ll die if he doesn’t obey. So, again running solely off the need to survive, he sits back down in his cuck chair like he’s being controlled remotely- cursing and scowling even as his head dips down.
“Fuck- take it, take it, sweetheart-!” Satoru gasps, rolling his hips harder and harder until your tears are soaking into his skin.
Hands shaking from being clenched so hard (and from fear, although he refuses to acknowledge it), Naoya listens as your moans reach a fever pitch. He’s about to speak up again when the light overhead starts glowing on its own, his eyes widening just a bit as he looks up.
Satoru thrusts faster and faster, panting and moaning as he gets closer and closer, the pressure in the room building higher and higher until- ‘POP!’
“O-oh, fuck- hah!- gonna b-breed you so good-!” The bulb bursts as Satoru groans shakily, jerking his hips one more time before jamming himself as deep as possible and letting go of rope after rope of potent cum. You mewl and squeal under him, wheezing as his arms crush you unintentionally tight to his chest, your bones creaking softly as your little womb drinks in more and more of his cum.
“I told you not to do that-!”
Naoya’s fist meets an immovable force again, but this time it’s not the invisible wall of a technique- it’s another hand. Satoru groans like this is torture as he effortlessly grabs the other mans swung fist, finally lifting his head to glare like Naoya personally offended him- and he did.
“God, you’re such a stupid little bitch-.” He groans breathlessly, crushing Naoya’s fist while holding your quaking body close. “I’m not exactly calm right now- and you almost ruined my-.”
“Like I give a shit- let go-!” Naoya shouts, trying with all his pathetic might to pull his hand back from Satoru’s iron grip. “If she’s pregnant, I’ll kill you both-!”
A dangerous chuckle leaves Satoru’s lips in a rasp, his hand squeezing and squeezing until Naoya’s angry pulling turns to panic. “Oh, she’ll be pregnant, alright. Looks like your weak little swimmers were never good enough for her.”
He lets go of you then, letting your dazed and limp body rest on the mattress as he sits up, an almost crazed smirk on his face as he wrenches Naoya’s fist while closer just to humiliate him further. “Good luck killing me. And if you try to touch my wife, or our future child, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
To punctuate his threat, he quickly tightens his fist until there’s a sickening crunch and pained scream that snaps you out of your daze. But before you can see the carnage, Satoru lets go and pulls you into his chest again, tucking your face into his heated skin. “Keep that in mind, Naoya.”
Naoya watches with a pained scowl, cradling his crushed hand to his chest. The last thing he sees is that infuriating smirk before you’re both gone, the pressure vanishing and leaving only the scent of sex and shame. With a petulant scream of fury, Naoya finally leaves his cuck chair and storms off to plan a revenge that will never work.
His breath is heavy as he says, “I want you to taste me.”
Your eyes flit down to the bulge straining against his breeches.
“No.” He drags your gaze upwards with a finger hooked under your chin. “I want you to taste me.”
~
You are Astarion’s most beloved spawn. Tonight, he offers you his blood and his devotion.
~
Slinking through the vast halls of your estate, you smile as the servants avert their gaze.
Dark consort.
Right hand.
Most beloved spawn.
Astarion had been true to his word. Every luxury was appointed to you. Blood. Jewels. And no end to the lush, flowing robes you wear. In them, nothing is left to the imagination. Fangs flash as you grin. It flusters the servants. They know how the Master dislikes lingering eyes.
Together, you feasted on blood the night you spoke your unholy vows of devotion. He had licked your skin clean from the spatter. Utterly consumed by you. Each night, his honeyed words and reverent touches soothe away the ache of undeath. You are his. His spawn. His love.
Now, as you approach the dining room, your tongue darts out hungrily over your dry lips.
You see him first. Pale hair, perfectly tousled. Delicate curved lips that hide danger, and excitement. Shining red eyes level with yours across the empty table.
“You precious thing,” he croons. “You look almost lost inside your own home.”
You approach him slowly. A prowl more than a walk. You feel his attention dip from your eyes and scour your body. A possessive, dark look in his eye, he regards what is his with satisfaction.
“And now I am found,” you breathe as you claim your seat. Firm hands wrap around your waist as you settle in his lap. Your throne.
The hunger in your soul is ever-present. The eternal thirst for blood never leaves. You look at the table with a frown. It lies empty. Barren of even the smallest morsel on which you could sup.
“Patience, my sweet,” Astarion murmurs against your neck. His hands draw whirling patterns across your exposed skin. His touch sends sparks of fire through your undead veins. They trail lower across your hips. The tips of his fingers brush against your thigh and you shift your legs, granting him access to the innermost flesh.
His nostrils flare as he catches your scent and a low growl threatens to rumble through his chest. He holds you against him firmly with one hand, your backside pressing against his firm length, while his other hand traces tantalising swirls against your inner thigh.
Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers inch closer and closer to your core. Teasing, he brushes his thumb against your silken folds before returning his attention to your thigh. You shudder under the ghostly touch, a pressure builds in you. Warm and pleasant. Wetness pools at the apex of your thighs. Shameless, you arch your back and spread yourself further.
His chuckle against your neck is intoxicating. You lean backwards, exposing your throat to him and he claims it with his lips. Soft, gentle kisses pepper the hollow curve of your throat. His hand continues his taunting ministrations across your inner thigh and you let out a small mewling sound of pleasure. He groans against your skin and presses the thick stiffness of his cock against your rear.
You hear the faint chime of a bell. Dinner. Yet, instead of tinkling chalices filling the table the only sound you hear is the soft thunk of the great double doors being swung shut.
“Up you get, then.” Astarion’s voice is a breath of air against your ear. It sends tingles racing down your neck.
“What?” you ask, looking down at him dumbly.
“Up. You. Get.” This time he gestures to the empty banquet table before you and your mouth goes dry as you finally understand. You slip from his lap and up onto the table.
“Good girl,” he purrs, one hand claiming a possessive grip on your knee. The other trails fingertips along your jaw. Down, across your collarbone. He traces the curve of your chest, the calluses on his fingers leave goosebumps scattering in their wake. You suppress the shudder that threatens to betray your excitement.
A firm shove and your head cracks against the solid wood behind you, yet you don’t feel it. All of your attention is captivated by the scraping of his fingers against your skin. He pushes your knees apart, baring your weeping pussy to him. A deep growl rumbles from the head of the table as he inhales your scent.
“Always so eager to be filled, my love,” his voice drips with sin. Your hips buck forward but he stops the movement with a palm pressed firmly against your abdomen. “Patience,” he repeats, his tone biting. “You will have your fill, I assure you.”
Before you can reply, he again brushes a fleeting thumb across your core. Your back arches, exposing your breasts from the folds of your sheer robes. Cold hands trace the curve of your thighs. They grasp at your hips. Cup your breasts. You moan softly as his fingers clamp your nipples. He tugs sharply, eliciting a shattered gasp from your throat.
“A—” Astarion. Your mind is void of all but him. You bite your lip and the sharp sting of your fangs only heightens the yearning building in your chest. And lower. The tearing of fabric is a distant sound as Astarion peels away your robes. You shiver as he steps away, circling you.
“You look delectable, Darling,” he says as his eyes slowly drink in every inch of your body. His lips are whisper soft as he leans across your exposed form and captures your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud and another whimpered gasp escapes your lips. He murmurs his approval against the delicate flesh of your breast. His breath is warm as it fans out across your skin, it sparks another wave of heat that pools between your legs. The curl of his lip is your only warning before his fangs are buried in your chest.
Sharp. Cold. Thrilling. His mouth remains fastened around your nipple. Even as the blood flows from your wounds, his tongue continues to tease the peaked tip of your breast. He retracts from your flesh and that sinful tongue darts out to trace the tiny punctures. Your blood paints his lips as he smiles down at you.
“Delicious,” he murmurs. A bloody trail leads down your body as he traces your curves with his mouth. His lips and tongue are devout in their worship of your skin. He captures your other breast in his mouth and nips the skin playfully. Your gasp gives way to a low moan of need. His answering chuckle could almost drive you insane.
Slowly, he makes his way from your breast to your ribs. Every inch of skin is captured by his tongue or teeth. Blood smears across your flesh from his lips and you can't help but think it looks somehow beautiful. Your breath quickens as Astarion reaches your hip. Your thighs are slick with your arousal, the scent heavy in the air. Astarion guides your legs open and dips his chin between them.
Your eyes flutter shut and your back arches as his lips brush against your damp mound. His growl of satisfaction rumbles through your pussy and you can't help but moan at the sensation.
“Astarion,” you whimper breathlessly. “Fu—” Your next word is cut short as his tongue darts between your velvet folds. You vaguely register his hands spreading your legs, baring your pussy further for him. His tongue brushes against your clit, slow strokes that flood your senses. With each touch, the rising pressure in your core grows hotter, your moans grow more desperate.
The blood on his lips mingles with your juices and they drip to the table together. You writhe beneath him, desperate to grind against that perfect mouth.
He stills you in an instant as he draws away suddenly. His breath is heavy as he says, “I want you to taste me.”
Your eyes flit down to the bulge straining against his breeches.
“No.” He drags your gaze upwards with a finger hooked under your chin. “I want you to taste me.”
You blink at him in confusion.
“Drink from me.” He clarifies. It isn't a command. Not this time. It is a request. A permission. An invitation. You ease yourself up from the table. Your legs are more than a little shaky as you scoot to the edge.
“I've thought of this moment ceaselessly,” he murmurs against your neck. “When you would taste my blood. What it may taste like when I lick it from your lips. What it would feel like to be buried inside you as you take your fill.”
A quick jerk under your knees and you fall snuggly into his lap once more.
“But for now, love,” he purrs, “just a taste.” He stretches his neck out for you and your mouth waters at the sight. You swallow once as you lower your face to the strong curve of his throat. You feel the thump of his undead heart under your lips. You feel the power radiating under his skin. You take a small breath and—
Your fangs puncture the flesh of his throat. A guttural groan vibrates through you both as the sweet taste of blood gushes over your tongue. You swallow it greedily, your tongue flicking against the pinprick wounds.
As his lifeblood fills you, you feel a surge of power. Hunger. Desire. You arch your back slightly and moan as the taste of his blood heightens the sensation of your sopping wet pussy grinding against him.
Your fangs retract from his skin and your tongue takes their place. You soothe the wounds with the same tender care he has always offered you. Lust coats his eyes as you finally draw back and meet his gaze.
“Good girl,” he whispers then pulls you forward and crashes his lips against yours. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and grant him entry. He explores your mouth with his tongue, it sweeps against yours and the taste of your bloods mingle. You hum softly against his lips, his answering groan of pleasure sends a thrill through your whole body. You roll your hips against him, each breath comes shorter as you desperately grind your cunt against his bulge.
Suddenly, his hands are on your hips and lifting you as he stands. Your legs fold effortlessly around him as he grips your ass. Your back hits the cold surface of the table as he lays you down gently and you feel a shiver skate up your skin. Astarion’s eyes remain fixed on you as he removes his breeches. Your breath hitches as his cock springs free from the laces and your tongue skates over your lower lip involuntarily.
“Magnificent,” his voice steals the word from your mind. “You are magnificent, darling.” His voice is silk. His touch, reverent. He crawls onto the table and hovers over you. You feel the tip of his cock drag against the skin of your stomach and fight the urge to push your hips forward. His lips trace the curve of your neck upwards until they hover by your ear.
”Mine.” His breath fans over the shell of your ear and a desperate mewl of need escapes your lips. “My beauty.” He kisses your neck, a swift, desperate movement. “My dark consort.” His fangs scrape your skin as he places another kiss against the hollow of your throat. “My goddess.”
His mouth is on yours again as he nudges your legs apart with his knees. His hands drift to your hips and you bite your lip as you feel his throbbing cock push against your entrance. His moan of pleasure echoes your own as he fills you. Your silken folds welcome him. You gasp as he withdraws and thrusts again. Each roll of his hips sends a shockwave shuddering through you. Buried deep in your cunt, you feel as your walls are forced to stretch and accommodate his girth. Your eyes flutter closed as he pounds deep into your pussy. Each stroke is strong and purposeful. His hands rove over you endlessly. The scraping of his rough fingers sends sparks shattering through your nerves.
“Yours,” you whisper, dragging your eyes to meet his gaze.
His eyes don’t leave yours as he groans his answer. “Yes.”
”Mine,” your fingers dig into the musculature of his back possessively, pulling him closer.
”Yes,” he repeats and a shiver dances along his spine as he gives himself to you fully.
The pressure in your core builds with every thrust. The slick mixture of blood and arousal leaks from your pussy. It coats his cock more with each impossibly deep plunge into your soul. His breath is hot in your ear as he begins to quicken the pace. Swift, hot thrusts spear you to the table. Your moans shatter from your throat and bounce between the beams in the vaulted ceiling.
You bury your face in his shoulder as he fills you. Your lip curls back and you drag the tips of your fangs against his perfect porcelain flesh. He groans and exposes his neck for you. Stars cloud your vision as you sink your teeth into him. The taste of blood on your tongue is secondary to the shining flames that fill your veins as he brings you to the edge of your climax. Your pussy clenches around his cock as he fucks you and you bite down harder as you hear him cry your name. Together, you tumble over that perfect abyss.
You pant in the wake of your orgasm, the taste of him lingering on your lips. He withdraws from you and his seed joins the mixture of fluids that drip from your thighs to the table.
“My love,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice breathless. He gathers you effortlessly in his arms and you retreat to your chambers, sated. For now.
synopsis: you never asked to trade sleeping in your bed for sleeping on a cold cot in a spaceship. never imagined you'd become an alien's favorite species to study - or his favorite to fuck either. he might not want to cage you like the rest of them, but then again, keeping you captive wouldn't be so bad, would it? for science, of course.
pairing: alien!gojo x f!reader
content: mdni. smut. porn with plot. slight dubcon. yandere!alien gojo, abduction, probing, examination kink, being strapped down to a table, lube, everyone loves true form sukuna but have we considered gojo with four arms and two dicks?, dumbification, gojo is basically an alien with a porn addiction and a human fetish but he's got cute antennas too, yearning, he's OBSESSED, nipple sucking, fingering, double stuffed, penetration in both holes, unprotected anal and piv sex, creampies
Gojo wanted you the second he saw you.
Technically, he shouldn't have even been in the lab. Technically, he wasn't even a researcher. Technically, he had stolen the security card once he saw that they abducted someone new to conduct their standard blood tests on.
Humans were a hot commodity.
A resource to utilize, something to use like, ah, how did they say it? Lab rats? Something less sentient, more animalistic. A lesser version of them, but with biology similar enough to study.
His kind had never cared about human history. Couldn't be bothered to learn about their culture. Flat-out disregarded the notion an inferior species like that could even really have any.
Satoru simply disagreed.
They didn't care to hear him out either. Kept up the archaic practices under the bland excuse of conducting studies for boring stuff like medicine and science.
It was supposed to be cut and dry. Abduct. Drug. Test. Drop back off.
Humans never noticed.
Waking up the morning after back in their own bed, completely clueless, chalking any memories up to nothing more than a weird dream and moving on with their little lives.
But Gojo had been fascinated by the funny creatures for as long as he could remember. Collected trinkets and snuck their stuff back to his room when they were brought on board. Managed to sneak in and ask a few about what Earth was like while they were still dazed.
He'd only been on the planet once. It was meant to be a brief expedition, to stake out some potential subjects before returning to their spaceship, but he couldn't help himself.
That was where he obtained his prized possession.
Something you humans called porn.
He had permanently borrowed an odd-looking rectangle, purely because it was shiny and fit underneath his shirt when he got beamed back up, using their far more advanced technology to sift through the files to find something that failed to satiate his curiosity. Instead, it sparked an entirely new kind, staring rapt at the screen in his room as video after video of humans mating played out in positions he hadn't thought possible.
Using different holes and sticking body parts in places he was pretty sure they weren't supposed to be, panting and moaning and sweating on camera while they came. And they seemed to do that a lot.
Gojo studied their creativity. Their commitment to pleasure - the rituals they'd perform, the exchange of sex as a form of currency, the fabled pizza guy and the females proclivity to get stuck in dryers.
He even stitched together his own lingerie, even if his fingers ends up bloody by the end of it.
Sex up on the spaceship was boring. Solely for procreation purposes. He'd been rejecting potential mates for years, people who just wanted his position as the future heir to their conglomeration for power.
And yeah, maybe they weren't so civilized, but he was starting to think humans had something right.
After all, their genitalia was sorta like theirs. They could be having this much fun too!
If everyone wasn't so stuffy about everything and insisted on following 'protocols' all the time.
But they'd see just how right he was soon - especially now that he had a test subject of his own.
This was not a nightmare.
You thought it was, at first. Convinced this had to be a strange dream, something your brain concocted after a couple bad horror movies.
Strapped down to a table? Without a single fucking memory of how you got there?
What else could it be?
But you could feel the cool air brushing over your peaked nipples, touch the smooth surface under your palms, blink and squint at the too-bright lights lining the spherical ceiling. Legs held up, fastened in stirrups.
Still, your first conclusion wasn't extraterrestrial. No, you were sure you'd been abducted by some serial killer, kidnapped and taken back to a makeshift dungeon designed to drive you crazy.
Straining against cool metal, squirming and splayed out like a science experiment for anyone to see.
"Hello?" You called out, only getting the faint echo of your own voice back to keep you company.
No one answered. But you couldn't crane your neck to check and see if you were being ignored.
You felt like you were being watched.
Small bumps trailing over your skin when you shivered, an annoying little itch grating at your nerves and insisting you weren't alone.
Still, you wouldn't have guessed what - or technically, who - was with you.
Not until the footsteps.
They were wrong. The pace was just off, some imperceptible thing making your heart race that you couldn't quite place. Were they too close together? Too far apart? Too heavy? They were accompanied by more odd noises, your brain struggling to process it, like listening to a foreign language on the radio, picking apart bits and pieces and trying to make sense out of them.
"Who's there?"
It felt like a cheesy horror movie. You could hear yourself half an octave too high, all pitchy and petrified, but you couldn't control it. Couldn't stop yourself from shivering as you were surrounded by shadows.
Your chest heaved. Your wrists strained. But before you could scream or shout, something sharp pricked your neck, and you were almost instantly paralyzed.
Not fully, but your muscles went from fighting to faintly twitching, but they didn't respond to your brain's demands to move. You could still look around, still could twist and turn your head as much as the collar around your neck allowed.
You were terrified for the worst.
Of being touched, your skin splayed or torn while you could do nothing but stare at the blank walls.
But instead, they just watched.
Something cold grazed against your skin, but it was little more than a faint trail along your leg. A few more pricks in your arm, like they were taking blood samples.
Then they left.
Whatever they were.
The silence was somehow worse. Waiting for them to return. Waiting for some horrible fate to befall you.
Just when you were on the brink of hyperventilating, a few tears pricking at your lash line you couldn't wipe away, you heard them again.
One of the creatures whined, the cold contraptions keeping your thighs spread only pushing them further apart when you tried to move again, muscles still burning through whatever was numbing your body and keeping you mostly frozen from the neck down.
The other one replied in that strange language, and you couldn't comprehend what the fuck they were saying, but it sounded cold. All clinical and curt.
A door shut. And those strange steps came back. These were lighter though, quicker.
A pair of blue eyes were suddenly above yours, bright and intelligent, deep enough to drown in. Unnatural white lashes fluttering, narrowing as he studied your reactions. But it was hard to focus on him when the world felt all foggy, only able to process everything in broken pieces. You tried to recount what was in front of you.
Fading footsteps. Faint beeping. Cold restraints on your wrists. White walls.
And him.
You figured you were really fucked when you had the distant thought some cute guy had to pulling some cruel prank on you. Even though you could only see him from the shoulders up, it almost looked like he was wearing a Halloween costume. His skin practically shimmered, like some strange movie-style special effect, a soft shade that didn't make sense to your addled brain, antennas sticking up in his tousled white hair.
But then something warm brushed against your cheek, moving your hair to the side and sliding something inside your ear, readjusting for a moment.
"Can you understand me now?"
You nodded, as much as you could given the cold collar around your throat keeping your head down on the table.
"Good," he beamed at you, flashing teeth that were mostly human - even if his canines were too sharp for your liking. "I made that myself."
"W-who are you?" You managed to speak, still breathing too fast, trying to glance around again. "Where am I?"
"You can call me Satoru," he earnestly answered, but he paused, blinking as if he hadn't expected you to ask that. "We're on a spaceship."
"Uh-huh," you dryly replied, throat constricting as you tried to consider the chance he was telling the truth and that you weren't on a reality tv show one of your friends signed you up for.
"I'm being serious," he pouted, leaning down to look even closer at you.
His eyes were starry, speckled and swirling, magnetic, pulling you into his heated stare. His breath was cold against your skin, making you shiver and retreat back. But the metal slab you were on was even chillier, stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.
He looked less human up close. All his features were just slightly wrong, the kind of pretty and perfect that people would have to get plastic surgery and pay years worth of their salary to weakly replicate.
But he looked at you like you were the most captivating thing he'd ever seen.
"A-are you going to probe me?" You didn't realize you actually believed him until you heard the question leave your lips.
You were kinda hoping he'd laugh, assuage your fears. But he just tilted his head to the side considerately.
"Would you like me to?" Like he was your fucking gracious host, happy to oblige his guest's whims and wants.
"Um, what?" You stared. He smiled.
"I could use my fingers, or one of those, how do you call them, dil-" He began offering, and your head was spinning at the concept that aliens knew what sex toys were.
"You don't have to," you interrupted before he could finish, and you were pretty sure he was disappointed.
His little antennas drooped, his bottom lip twitching into a down-turned frown.
"Why am I here?" You changed the subject, unable to break eye contact with your new...acquaintance?
Were you about to be alien livestock? Spliced apart? Stuck in this stasis on this freezing slab forever?
"Research," he grinned again, those sharp blue eyes trailing south, his stare dragging over your exposed body. Antennas shooting straight up, subtly twitching with what you were starting to think was arousal.
"Research?" You echoed, holding your breath, heat coiling inside your stomach at his intensity. At how transfixed he was, tracing your outline and mapping it out just with his greedy gaze.
"I'd like to study your pleasure," he murmured, a not-very-subtle emphasis on the last word, his voice low.
Your brain was buzzing. Nerves electrified at the prospect of how your definition of pleasure might differ from his.
But the fear had dissipated, or maybe just coiled into something more dangerous. Desire.
"Can I touch you?" He hesitated, and you had to stop yourself from gawking. Mouth parting as you tried to figure out if he was actually asking for consent in this situation.
"D-do you want to?" You felt like you were just returning his question, a weak attempt to discern his intentions.
Part of you had started to reconsider the possibility you were dreaming before he chuckled, and your pulse pounding in your ears convinced you once again this was real.
Spread open in stirrups in front of your strange alien abductor.
But it wasn't apprehension or anxiety pumping through you anymore. It was anticipation, staring down a cliff and preparing to fling yourself off of it after his mouth curled up in a cute smirk.
"More than anything."
God, he made it sound like foreplay.
You bit your lip, tasted the hint of blood and iron on it, before making what was probably the stupidest decision of your life. You nodded.
His antennas were vibrating when he reached down to press his palm against your cheek, cupping your face. Soft, like a boyfriend would. Humming and exhaling as he smiled. His eyes didn't crinkle, no little lines etched by his lips, tiny details that stood out and made you shiver.
"I'm going to examine you first," he murmured, and you didn't know exactly how his lungs worked, or if he even had any, but it sounded like his breath hitched. His chest straining to hold it in, hold himself together as his hand traced over the cool metal of the collar down to your chest.
He used both hands.
Grabbing both your tits, not exactly groping, but squeezing hard enough to feel your skin and tissue underneath squish and shift, pure delight dancing across his face.
It was the weirdest breast exam you ever had.
Soft fingers, free of callouses, free of prints, danced over your nipples, making small stars over them.
You assumed he didn't know what he was doing. That maybe this was his first time touching a human. Or maybe a woman at all.
But then he pinched, ripping a raw gasp from your throat as you blinked up at him in surprise.
Satoru hadn't stopped though. Only emboldened by the sound he pulled from you, twisting and tweaking just enough to send sparks down your spine, heat simmering inside your stomach, unable to even squirm when he leaned down, deciding that touching wasn't enough.
He wanted a taste of you.
His tongue was rougher than you imagined, dragging over your nipple with even more fervor. You tried to crane your neck, but it didn't offer enough space for you to see his face, just those pretty blue antennas bobbing above the sea of white while he licked and lapped.
Straight-up sucking on your tits, teeth grazing against your sensitive nipples as he continued to knead into your chest.
You wished you had panties on, anything to hide how wet he was making you, thighs damp and unable to even close them to hide how hot you unfortunately found it.
Satoru pulled off with a filthy pop! before turning his attention back to you, pretty pink lips shiny with saliva as he pouted. "How come there's no milk?"
"Milk?" You gaped, the question coming out shaky, still catching your breath as you stared at his piercing blue eyes.
"Am I not doing it right?" He quizzed, running a finger back over your nipple before pinching again, only stoking the flames he'd set.
You hadn't realized how horny you were until you had to put together enough brain cells to form a coherent sentence, stumbling over your thoughts as you tried to get the words out, "T-that only happens when a girl is like, pregnant."
His brows scrunched together, processing this new interesting bit of information.
"I see," he nodded, as if it was now obvious to him. But he still applied more pressure, like he had to double check. As if he was doing some mental calculation to figure out how to induce it.
One of his fingers trailed down, past your mid-riff and over your belly button - although he did pause to press on that too, just to see if it'd do anything. When it didn't, he kept moving south. He walked around the bed, out of your sight again, both hands settling on your splayed-out thighs.
They were bigger than anyone else's you'd ever been with before. Soft and massive, sinking into your pliable muscles, humming with approval as he just stared.
You were self-conscious, trying to get your weakened muscles to shift when you heard a faint clutter. Your brain tried to do the math.
There were two hands on your thighs - so what the fuck was grabbing stuff?
It wasn't until the third hand slipped between your folds, spreading them even further apart so a fourth could spread something slick over it, that you figured out what was happening.
He had four arms.
And he was more than happy to put all of them to use.
You were already stuck. Already exposed. But he seemed intent on exploring every inch of you for himself, taking his time to drag his palms over the expanse of your body while that frustratingly gentle fourth hand slowly rubbed his palm over your entrance. Massaging in what you guessed was lube, although it made your brain feel even fuzzier. Your senses heightened, tuned into some new frequency, each subtle swirl threatening to make you shiver.
"You're pretty," he complimented, and all the warmth in your chest flooded your face, flushed as you strained to keep yourself from squeaking.
Not being able to see him was a special kind of torture. You wanted to see his face. Study what kind of face he was making when he was drawing such delicate patterns over your skin, murmuring at the little blemishes and marks on them with interest.
One of his fingers moved up, poking at your clit with just enough force to make you jolt. Well, as much as you could given how tight the restraints were, and how little your muscles would let you move with whatever his fellow aliens had put in your system.
"How did that feel?" Satoru curiously asked, circling around it, careful not to touch it again, but obviously amused by your reaction.
"G-good," you murmured. Your voice broke though, cracked when a stray thumb suddenly slipped between your slick folds, fresh goosebumps running down your flesh as he dipped in your wet warmth.
One word - and he was pulling his thumb out to push a full finger in.
It was longer than it should've been, thicker. Swirling lazily around, pressing against your walls like he was testing how much it could stretch.
If that was a finger, you didn't know how you'd fit his cock.
"I-I-" You started, struggling to breathe, struggling to think when you felt something else trying to slot in next to the first.
"Mhm?" He drawled, daring you to tell him more, hanging off every little sound he tore out. You might've managed to murmur that you didn't know how much more you could handle, but then you were being speared open, mean fingers digging into your thighs to pin them down against the freezing table.
The next noise he dragged out of you was feral. Some filthy moan, one that echoed off the walls and came from the back of your throat.
It felt like he was trying to stuff his fucking fist in there.
"S'too-" You whined, but you couldn't even finish. Trying to crane up again, desperate to see what he was doing.
"That's only two fingers," he murmured, experimenting out what it'd take to make you split, scissoring with steady strokes, like he was counting the seconds between each one in his head. "You can take it."
Confident, cocky, slowly increasing the pace, fingering you fast, eventually finding that sweet little spot at the back, crooking them cruelly and chuckling at the lewd squelches of your cunt.
"Look at you," he purred, and you didn't think you'd ever heard anyone sound so pleased. "Every part of you is perfect."
"Mm, S'toru," you slurred his name, eyes rolling back, thighs starting to tremble before he pulled his fingers back out, and you heard the distinct sound of him sucking them clean, moaning himself at the taste of you on his tongue.
You felt empty. Hot. Your skin burning, your body begging for him to keep going, all your thoughts drifting incoherently as you tried to drag out some sensibility from the recesses of your mind. But everything was too cloudy, barely clinging onto what was left of your rationality as one of his hands pressed down on your clit, rolling his palm over it, applying just enough pressure to make you croon.
Whining, all pitchy and weak, fingers forming a fist as you squirmed.
"You need more?" He teased, and you were already nodding, hips trying to move to entice him.
When it came down to it, you supposed you were just another animal, devolving down to your most basic instinct when the right stimulation came along. Depraved.
You felt him shuffle before you saw him, heard the creak of the table as his broad body climbed on top of you.
His hands shifting, one on your hip, one grabbing one of your tits, fully groping you now before he reached up with another to brush your hair back.
You were a little scared to think what he might be doing with the fourth one.
But his eyes were on you, and you were lost in them. Immediately sucked into the shimmer of them, even when the blue was almost swallowed by his blown-out pupils.
"Both my cocks are much bigger than the average penis size on your planet," he proudly proclaimed, something thick and wet nudging back between your thighs.
"Both?"
Too late.
The stretch burned. Each ridge practically engraving itself, leaving an imprint inside you as he slowly dragged along your walls. Pushing past the first ring of resistance with a throaty groan of his own, embarrassingly loud, his sharp jaw locked as he forced the last few inches in.
"That's my girl," he moaned, leaning down to kiss you to swallow your squeak, your guts being rearranged before he had even pulled back out to start fucking you properly.
Where the hell had he even learned to talk like that? Know how to make the butterflies in your stomach somersault?
And really, how on Earth (or in orbit) were you somehow nodding along to the idea of being an alien's girl?
"Told ya you can take it," he murmured between breaths, sucking on your bottom lip messily, biting hard enough you were pretty sure it might be bleeding. But you were too far gone to care, mindlessly agreeing in whimpers.
"Mm, mm," you tried to speak, but nothing more would come out, eyes rolling back when you felt a new pressure pushing against your puckered hole.
He paused though, pulling back enough to wink at you, white lashes fluttering as one of his hands let go of you to reach out and fumble for something on the other table you couldn't see. "Almost forgot."
You didn't get a chance to ask what before he was rubbing more of that lube there, shuddering at the almost slimy feeling on your skin.
Apprehensively, you tensed, but then he started fucking you, and you forgot to even breathe.
Only able to take and take and take, when he started stretching your ass out with a finger while he pumped your cunt full. It didn't feel like a normal cock - and not just because of its size. It was almost ribbed.
It didn't hurt, but it was the kind of intense that was impossible to ignore. Grinding deep against your womb, coaxing you into crying his name when his cock rubbed against all those spots he mapped out earlier.
Your mouth was watering, but he kept kissing you, testing how it felt to press his lips against the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, even down your jaw.
And when he started pushing his other cock in?
Your mind melted. Reason dissolving until the only thing left inside you was him.
You had never even done anal before.
But here you were, letting an alien stuff both your holes past the brim, his cocks big enough you could feel the pressure building and building, only separated by the thin wall of your anatomy.
Satoru was toying with your tits again, like stress toys made specially for him, all the overstimulating sensations mixing together and mounting, heightening each other until all you knew was his hands and his mouth and his cocks. Rewired by how good it felt to be played with, how right it felt to be stretched and split open.
You didn't even sound human anymore, Satoru devouring every single one of your devastated whimpers, encouraging more with delicious whispers that left you arching your back as much as you could off the table.
He bottomed both cocks out, and you thought you might die. Pain? Pleasure? Both?
And then he was back to rubbing more of that lube over your clit, thighs trembling and body quivering as he soothed you through it.
"You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?" He purred, and you could've climaxed from the cute smirk curling up on his lips, his perfectly sculpted face and those pretty patterns he was busy pressing against your swollen bud.
He pulled his fingers back right as you were about to crest over it, chuckling when you let out a huff.
"Say my name again."
"Toru, p-please," you were begging. Unable to move your wrists, to tether your fingers in his hair or claw at his shoulders, giving him your best set of puppy dog eyes.
He seemed to already see you as his pet.
"Well," he hummed, thumb returning to rubbing you again. "When you say it like that."
With one mean circle, Satoru dragged you over the edge - and dropped you into the ocean of him. White (and blue) blurred your vision, your body shuddering as you desperately cried his name, his thrusts somehow lazy and rushed, burying both his cocks in you and moaning at how hard you clenched down on them.
"S'fucking tight," he hissed, but he was right there with you, cumming hard and fast inside you too, hot spurts of it coating your insides as he throbbed inside you.
Your skin was still warm when he pulled out, your muscles sore and tense, body exhausted as you blinked up at him.
"That was fun," he grinned. "Ready for round two?"
Gojo couldn't have created a better specimen himself.
You fulfilled his every fantasy - and then some.
The research department found him two hours later, grumbling about getting locked out of the lab just to find the culprit readjusting a homemade vibrator with clinical precision to your clit.
His new favorite subject not quite passed out yet, cumming for the twelfth time, weak whimpers rolling out, a mess between your thighs and covering the clinic table.
You were drunk on him, delirious since orgasm six, nodding along to all his suggestions, pressing kisses to his skin every time he was close enough, not even straining against the cuffs or collar anymore. Just accepting all that he threw at you.
He checked off twenty items from his bucket list so far already - but he still had about a thousand more to go. Tying you up, fucking your mouth, pressing your thighs up to your chest, bending you over on the desk so he could role play as your boss. Walk you around on all fours around the spaceship and show his newest prize.
"This is unacceptable."
Blah blah blah.
He wasn't listening to whatever they were complaining about. All he was thinking about was new ways to explore your body, how much more research he was dying to do.
He hadn't stopped touching you, refusing to budge, your eyes rolled back and pretty little gasps panting from your lips as he turned up the setting on the vibrator.
"You cannot have sexual intercourse with our test subjects," snapped one of the higher-ups, scoffing at him with that annoying little chitter.
Gojo resented that he said subjects.
It wasn't plural. He only wanted you.
"Why not?" He retorted, shrugging his shoulders.
"It's unethical," Suguru chimed in, leaning against the wall, like he wasn't watching your cute disoriented face scrunching up mid-climax.
"You kidnap them without their consent," Gojo pointed out. They didn't get to say no to him. It was his family's funding that supported their expeditions - covered the fuel costs to beam their unsuspecting test subjects up. "At least she consented to this."
One of the directors of the lab grimaced, all of them exchanging looks while Suguru snorted behind them.
What did humans say?
Checkmate.
"Sweetheart."
Someone was nudging you, a weak noise leaving your mouth, a keen whine as you blinked up at the bright lights. Waking up from a wet dream into a weirder reality, squinting up at Satoru's familiar face.
You felt the clamps unlock, thick fingers grazing against your throat before the collar was finally off.
He helped you sit up, your limp body moving like jello, thighs sore, no strength left to stand as you fell into his chest.
"They said I could keep you," he excitedly murmured, cradling you against him. He ruffled your hair, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before nuzzling your nose.
Keep you?
It took a few seconds to set in, your body sluggish as he already started rambling off plans, promising you pretty toys and a soft bed to sleep in, saying that you how cute you'd look all dressed up, how fun life together would be when you got to have sex all the time.
sum. gojo satoru doesn’t give a damn about the Gojo clan’s rules—or their obsession with heirs. when the elders start whining about the “three childless years” of his marriage, Gojo decides to make a statement the only way he knows how: folding his wife into a mating press right inside the clan estate, making sure every creak of the floors and every shameless moan carries into their ears.
warnings. exhibitionism, breeding kink, degradation/petty clan disrespect, public sex (balcony), loud sex with intentional audience, creampie, mating press, gojo being the cockiest bastard alive, dubiously-consensual audience (elders overhearing).
cherry’s note. my first post of kinktober—kinda nervous but here we go. things might be scrapped, added and edited poorly due to my busy schedule but i tried my best<3
You hated Kyoto. Not because of the streets, or the food, or even the suffocating quiet of the Gojo estate—it was the people inside it that made your skin crawl. The elders with their narrow eyes and wrinkled mouths that opened only to spit tradition, lineage, and duty. Every time they summoned Gojo back, it was the same script.
And every time, your husband showed up with you on his arm, grinning like the devil himself had walked into the room.
“Still so grumpy, huh?” he teased, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you stepped over the polished wood floors of the clan’s council hall. “Don’t pout, wifey. Remember, they hate when you look prettier than their great-grandkids.”
You gave him a look, but his sunglasses were already trained forward, smile stretching wide. His hand tightened on your waist, deliberately pulling you closer as the elders’ mutters grew louder.
They hated you. Not because of who you were, but because you weren’t one of them. They’d offered Gojo a string of arranged marriages in the past, promising him prestige, a powerful heir, and obedience. He’d flipped them the bird—politely, of course, in his own Gojo way—and married you instead. His long-time girlfriend, his love, his favorite thing to flaunt.
He made sure to rub it in every time.
The meeting was already dragging, elders droning about “the future of the clan” and “the necessity of securing the next generation.” You tried to keep your eyes from glazing over, but beside you, Gojo was restless in his chair. Not that anyone else would notice—his expression was the picture of lazy indifference. But his hand… oh, his hand was the problem.
It started innocent. Palm resting heavy on your thigh under the low table. Then his thumb drew lazy circles, sliding higher and higher until you clamped your knees shut.
“Satoru,” you hissed softly, swatting at him.
He leaned close, breath warm against your ear. “What? I’m just listening.” His smirk widened. “Well, not to them. I’m thinking about how easy it’d be to fold you in half once we’re done here.”
Heat rushed to your face, and you shifted, hoping the elders were too busy lecturing to notice. Unfortunately, Gojo didn’t stop. His fingers inched higher, pressing against the fabric of your dress. Just enough pressure to make you squeeze your thighs together, not enough to satisfy.
You swallowed hard, eyes darting across the hall. No one was looking. All attention was on the head elder, voice rattling about heirs and duty.
Gojo chuckled under his breath. “Hear that, wifey? They want an heir.” He gave you a squeeze, smirk curling filthy. “Good thing I’m such a responsible husband.”
Your nails dug into his arm, but he only grinned wider. His fingers tapped your inner thigh like a drumbeat, deliberate, teasing, making your pulse hammer harder with each stroke. You shifted again, thighs pressing together, but he leaned close enough for you to feel his smirk.
“Bet you’re already wet just thinking about it,” he whispered, so low only you could hear. “Me filling you up, over and over, until it sticks.”
Your breath hitched, and he laughed—soft, smug, wicked. He loved seeing you squirm while he sat there, picture-perfect in his clan’s most formal room.
By the time the lecture ended, you were wound tight, thighs trembling with the effort of holding still. The elders dismissed you both with curt nods, no doubt expecting Gojo to take their scolding to heart.
He didn’t. The second the doors slid shut behind you, he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you down the polished hall.
“Satoru, the guest room—”
“Exactly.” He kicked the sliding door open with his foot, pulling you inside. The paper walls were thin as ever, the silence of the estate heavy around you. Perfect.
He shoved the door shut, pinned you against it with one fluid motion, and pressed his mouth to yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and pent-up hunger. His hands were already on your dress, bunching the fabric up, sliding higher with greedy impatience.
“They wanna hear about heirs?” he panted against your lips, teeth catching your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “Fine. I’ll give ’em one. I’ll give ’em the show of their lives.”
Your breath caught, half from his words, half from the way his hands were already pushing your thighs apart, lifting you like you weighed nothing. He carried you to the futon, tossing you down so the thin mattress hit the wood floor with a thump.
“Spread those legs, wifey,” he ordered, voice dropping low. “Let’s make sure they hear exactly how good their clan’s strongest fucks his wife.”
Your pulse hammered as he crawled over you, his sunglasses finally sliding off to reveal those eyes—hungry, mischievous, endless. His mouth curved into that familiar, dangerous grin.
And when he pressed your knees to your chest, folding you into a perfect mating press, you knew exactly how loud this night was going to be.
Your knees were pressed to your chest, ankles hooked over Gojo’s shoulders, the thin futon creaking beneath you. He had you folded tight, body already trembling from the weight of his gaze, his grin, his unshakable arrogance.
“You look so pretty like this,” he cooed, eyes glinting with wicked promise. His thumb brushed across your lower lip before he pressed it in, making you suck. “My perfect little wife. Gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”
You moaned around his thumb, heat crawling across your cheeks. The words hit harder than the rough kiss he’d given you minutes before. Gojo chuckled, pulling his thumb free, slick with your spit, and dragged it down to smear across your clit.
“Good girl. Already wet,” he murmured, voice loud enough to carry through the paper walls. You stiffened, heart pounding, but he only laughed louder. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Let ’em hear how much you want this.”
He didn’t waste time. The moment his cock pressed against your entrance, you felt your breath hitch. He teased you first—slow pushes just against the edge, the head dragging back and forth, parting your folds, making your cunt throb.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice low and deliberate, as though he wanted every elder down the hall to hear. “This tight pussy’s been waiting all through that boring ass meeting, huh? Bet they knew I was gonna wreck you the second we walked out.”
“Satoru—” you gasped, cutting yourself off with a cry when he slammed in all at once, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arched, the breath knocked from your lungs, and Gojo groaned, head dropping to the crook of your neck.
“Shit, yeah,” he panted, hips grinding deep. “That’s it, wifey. Take it all. Gonna keep you stuffed full ‘til you’re round with my kid.”
His pace was brutal from the start. No gentle easing, no slow rhythm—just sharp, deep thrusts that drove you into the futon, the wood floor rattling beneath it. The sound was obscene: skin slapping, your cries spilling into the silence, his voice riding over it all.
“Fuck, listen to that,” he groaned, one hand pressing hard on your stomach so you could feel the drag of his cock inside you. “Bet the whole clan can hear how wet you are for me. You like this, huh? Being fucked like a cumdump in their precious compound?”
Your nails clawed down his arms, desperate for something to hold onto. The pressure, the angle, the intensity—it was too much, too perfect. He knew exactly how to fold you, how to hit that spot that made your vision spark.
“Say it,” he demanded, leaning close, tongue dragging up your cheek before his teeth caught your ear. “Say you want me to breed you. Let ’em hear who you belong to.”
Your lips parted, words tumbling out between ragged breaths. “I—I want it, ‘toru—please—fill me up—”
His grin was feral. He slammed harder, the futon scraping against the floor, your moans ringing through the thin walls like music. “Good fucking girl. That’s my wife.”
His hand shifted from your stomach to your throat, squeezing lightly, just enough to make your head spin. His pace never faltered, brutal thrusts punching cries from your lips, his dirty praise soaking your ears.
“Gonna knock you up right here,” he rasped, loud, clear, taunting the shadows beyond the walls. “Gonna fuck an heir into you while those old farts sit there pretending they don’t hear how good I make you scream.”
You were sobbing now, the overwhelming stretch and the relentless pace tipping you into that sweet, dizzy edge. Your body shook, legs trembling against his shoulders, every nerve alight.
“C’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice slipping softer, but still carrying. “Give it to me. Cum for me. Let the whole clan know who owns this pussy.”
The coil snapped, and you cried out, body arching, walls clenching hard around him. The sound tore through the silence, raw and shameless. Gojo groaned, hips grinding through your orgasm, milking you for everything.
“Fuck, yeah. That’s it. Cream on my cock, wifey. Gonna give you another one—”
And then he was spilling inside you, hot and deep, his head thrown back, groan sharp and guttural. He didn’t hold back. Every drop pumped into you with rough, deep thrusts, ensuring nothing leaked.
When he pulled back to look, the sight made his grin widen. “Mm, look at that. Stuffed full already. But we’re not done, baby. Not until they’re praying to the gods you don’t get pregnant.”
He shifted, pulling your legs tighter, folding you even further as he slammed back in. His stamina was endless, his grin wide, his voice merciless.
“Round two,” he announced, deliberately loud, as if he were addressing the entire clan. “Better pay attention, old men. This is how you make an heir.”
Your body jolted with every thrust, mind unraveling under the relentless rhythm. Tears streaked your cheeks, but Gojo only kissed them away, groaning into your mouth as he fucked you through another climax.
“Yeah, cry for me, wifey,” he murmured, tongue sweeping into your mouth. “Every tear, every scream—let ’em all know. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
And he didn’t stop. Not when you begged, not when your voice broke, not even when your body went limp under him. His pace was unrelenting, his dirty words loud, shameless, cruel.
Because this wasn’t just sex. This was a performance. A show for the clan. A giant middle finger wrapped in sweat and moans and the sound of your cunt being fucked raw.
By the time he spilled inside you again, it was dripping down your thighs, soaking the futon. You were dazed, shaking, clinging to him as though he was the only thing tethering you to reality.
And he was still grinning, lips brushing your temple, voice a loud, taunting purr.
“Guess the Gojo clan got their answer, huh?”
The sliding doors creaked open, letting in a rush of cool Kyoto night air. Gojo didn’t even bother pulling the curtains shut. Nah, that would ruin his whole plan. He wanted every elder with their stuck-up ears pressed to the walls to choke on the sounds of you screaming his name.
“Balcony sex, baby,” he grinned, carrying you out with his cock still buried deep inside you like it belonged there, because it did. “Scenic view, fresh air, plus it’ll piss those fossils off even more. Triple win.”
“Gojo—” you tried to scold him, but your words broke into a gasp when he slammed you against the cold railing. Your legs wrapped around his waist out of instinct, your bare thighs catching on his still half-buttoned uniform.
He leaned down, nipping your jaw, whispering loud enough to echo, “Bet they’re listening right now, praying their ‘honored one’ doesn’t give the clan an heir this way. Joke’s on them, huh? Gonna make you so full, they’ll hear the way I fuck my babies into you.”
His hips snapped forward brutally, making the railing rattle under your back. The sound wasn’t subtle. Every thrust sent a sharp clang reverberating across the quiet courtyard, like a war drum announcing the most scandalous kind of victory.
Your head tilted back, eyes catching the stars over Kyoto, but your voice was what Gojo was focused on. He wanted it loud. He wanted the whole damn clan to hear your cries bouncing against the estate walls.
“Satoru—! Someone will—ahhh—hear us!”
“That’s the point, sweetheart.” His laugh was all teeth and sin, hips rolling deep and mean. “Let ‘em choke on it. They wanted me to make an heir? Fine, I’ll do it while they sit around wringing their hands. Gonna pump you full right here, under the same moon their ancestors prayed to.”
The cold night air bit your skin, but his body heat burned hotter than shame. Your fingers clawed into his back through his shirt, pulling him closer. He bent you in a filthy mimicry of a bow, railing you against the railing until your thighs quivered from strain.
And when he grabbed your chin, forcing your lips apart with two fingers, he growled, “Say it louder. Let them know you belong to me, not their stupid clan.”
Your moans spilled raw and unrestrained, every sharp sound shooting into the courtyard below like arrows. Somewhere deep inside the house, you swore you heard a door slam. Gojo only smirked wider, rutting harder into you, the creak of the balcony railing threatening to give.
When your orgasm ripped through you, your cry echoed like a siren over the entire estate, shameless, uncontrollable. Gojo kissed the sound right off your lips, drinking it down, before grinding even deeper into your trembling body.
“Good girl,” he hissed against your mouth. “Now take it. Take it all. Let them hear their precious heir being made.”
And then he spilled into you with a guttural groan, so loud, so obscene, the neighbors three estates over probably knew what happened. His forehead dropped to yours, cock twitching inside you, railing still vibrating under the aftermath.
When your breathing steadied, he snorted, smug as ever. “Think they’ll call another clan meeting tomorrow? Can’t wait to bring you again.”
Synopsis: You are one of the few people in the world without a soulmate. When your friend finally meets hers, you give her the brightest smile, pretending not to feel that ache in your chest. But her soulmate is a bit strange, and you feel like you're the only one who notices.
(Warnings: yandere, dark content, manipulation, infidelity, rape/noncon, afab reader, tw selfharm(not done to mc))
Unmei was your best friend in the entire world.
You met her when you two were still learning to read and write. You were neighbors, classmates, practically attached at the hip. There was a running joke in the neighborhood that you two were sisters in a past life.
She was with you on the night of your 13th birthday, when not a single name scrawled itself in black ink on your wrist.
You’d cried for days. All you’d ever wanted was a soulmate. Finding out the universe decided you didn’t deserve one was heart crushing.
Back then, Unmei looked at her own soulmark with disgust.
“Well, if you don’t have one, then I don’t want a soulmate, either.” She’d declared with a large grin, wiping away your tears. “Besides, Geto Suguru is a stupid name, anyway.”
Even back then, you knew it was a joke. Not a promise. She just wanted you to cheer up. She wasn’t agreeing to be a spinster with you.
Still, when she called you with the news, something broke within you.
“-He’s great! He’s so great!” Her voice crackles through the phone. “I’ve never met someone so kind and gentle. And his face! He’s so handsome. It was love at first sight.”
She excitedly tells you how they met, how he’d tapped her shoulder in the library, asking if she knew where to find a book. She’d only seen a glimpse of his badge, his name, and then the rest was history.
The more she talks, the more you sink. You could almost imagine what she looked like as she spoke. Her cheeks would glow with a warm pink. There would be a sparkle in her eye that makes her look younger. It was so selfish of you to drown in misery when she’s so happy. She’s your closest friend. She deserves better than someone so jaded.
You’re glad she isn’t here in person. You don’t want her to see how bitter you feel.
You close the hole in your heart with cement and faux delight.
“He sounds great,” you hear yourself say.
“When can I meet him?”
❤︎
You’ve never seen someone so tall before.
He wasn’t dressed to stand out. The simple, black coat drapes perfectly against his lean figure. His hair is coiled into an elegant bun, showcasing his neck and black earrings. His face is sharp and edged with beauty.
Unmei tugs him over, looking at him with bright, glimmering eyes. Love. You can see the truth stamped right on her face.
She slides into the seat across from you. He mirrors her. The whispers and noises within the cafe hush their voices a bit.
And yet, you can hear his voice clearly. Low and gentle.
“Did I say it right?” Geto asks right after he says your name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Unmei flushes.
You spot the expensive watch hanging off his wrist as he reaches over to shake your hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says.
“Change,” his purple eyes murmur, “the end of it all.”
The next hour passes with small talk and introductions. Unmei is the main talker, with Geto adding something in every so often. They work well together; you quietly observe, sipping on watered-down iced coffee. They fit. Pieces of a puzzle. Made for each other.
They are soulmates, after all.
“-It’s why I wanted you to meet him so bad,” Unmei tells you when you finally tune in again. “You two are so similar! It’d be nice to have all of us hang out sometime.”
“That would be nice.” Geto nods along before directing his gaze at you. “Perhaps you could bring your own soulmate, too.”
Your throat tightens. Unmei blanches. You can sense her about to redirect, but you figure it’s best if you bite the bullet now.
“I don’t have one.” You tell him, forcing your voice to sound light.
It takes a second for people to understand what you’re telling them–that you’re one of those. You wait for Geto to get that shameful look of pity everyone gets the moment you tell them. You’ve spent years like this, but it never stops stinging.
No pity. No sympathy.
He leans forward. His eyes sharpen.
“Really?”
You shrug, avoiding his gaze to sip on your coffee. You can still feel his eyes prickle on your skin even after Unmei changes the conversation.
Hours later, she texts you: sooo what’d you think????
You write exactly what she wants to hear.
He’s perfect for you:)
❤︎
Your second interaction with Geto happens without Unmei.
Some days, you liked to wander: turn your brain off, stroll through random shops, admiring the various knick-knacks you could never justify the price enough to purchase. Today, your feet led you into a small bookstore.
The door alerts to your presence with a cheery jingle. The man at the front spares you a lukewarm smile as you trek into his store. The smell of paper and ink greets your nose. It’s a cozy place. Quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling city just outside.
One of your favorite authors recently published a new book. You weren’t sure if this bookstore had it, but you told yourself it wouldn’t hurt to check. You scanned the rows and shelves, drifting around the store to see if you could spot it.
You were so distracted, you didn’t notice him until you quite literally walked into him.
Hands reach out to steady you. Firm but gentle. You look up as a bundle of apologies is ready to spill from your lips. They die once you look into sharp purple eyes.
Geto smiles when his hands release your shoulders.
“Careful there.”
You reanimate at his voice. You step back, mindful of how close he was.
“Sorry,” you tell him, “I–I didn’t see you.”
“I could tell.” His grin widens, and you sheepishly glance down.
“This is a very welcome coincidence,” he continues, “I didn’t know you liked literature as well.”
You helplessly shrug, trying not to show your discomfort. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Geto. He seemed like a nice person, but you were not ready at all for a one-on-one interaction with your friend’s new boyfriend.
“Yeah,” you say when the silence gets too long, “I was just here to see if I could find something in particular…” Just then, your eyes drift up.
You catch the title just then. It’s sitting quietly on the top shelf, leering at you. If only you’d found it sooner, it seems to goad at you; you wouldn’t be stuck in the most awkward situation in the world.
Geto catches your gaze. He glances up at the book.
“Is that the one?” He asks.
You nod. He reaches up and lifts it from its respective spot. You expect him to hand it over immediately, but he seems more interested in examining the cover.
“That sounds interesting.” He comments before handing it to you. “Would you recommend it?”
“I haven’t read it yet.” You admit. “But I’m a big fan of the author.”
He hums in acknowledgement. That’s when you notice his own stash of books he had tucked under his arm.
“You’re a horror fan?” You ask.
“Not particularly,” he admits. “I just wanted to branch out. My friend is a huge horror fan. These were mostly his recommendations.”
You nod. “Unmei also likes horror. The genre at least.” You blab on. “Back when we were in high school, she’d force me to watch all sorts of slasher movies, and then she’d get so scared she’d beg me to let her sleep over.”
On those days, you’d wake up to her snoring all over your pillows. Later, when you teased her about it, she’d laugh it off with red all over her face.
Those days were tinged with nostalgia–back when it was just you and Unmei.
You expect Geto to appreciate the snapshot of his soulmate’s past. That’s why he’s making small talk with you in the first place, right? To get to know her better.
Something flickers across his eyes. It was barely a moment before his face changed to deep sincerity, but you caught it.
Boredom.
You were stumped. How could someone be so blatantly uninterested in their soulmate? Or maybe it was you he couldn’t care less about? Or perhaps you just imagined it entirely?
You feel like you should confront him about it.
“Sorry,” you say instead, “ I need to head out now.”
“Of course.” He immediately steps aside to let you pass through the cramped shelves.
You expect that to be the end of it, but you can hear his footsteps behind you.
You almost considered abandoning your book entirely, just so you could escape the bookstore. Instead, you flash a tense smile at the cashier, who beams back.
“Find everything okay?” He asks.
“We did,” Geto tells him cheerily. He stands right next to you. You can almost feel the coat he wears brush against your shoulder.
Sometimes you wish you weren’t so nonconfrontational. Maybe you would’ve fought a bit more when Geto casually plucks the book from your loose grip, placing it on top of his own stack.
“All together, please.” He tells the cashier, before he turns to you. “I got it.”
“No, it’s fine.” You’re finally able to speak up. It’s too late. The man is already grabbing the bag and saying his regards to the worker behind the counter. He holds the door open for you.
You meekly thank him.
“I can pay you back.” You immediately say.
Geto shakes his head. “It’s fine. Think of it as a gift.” He hands your book into your twitching hands. “A token to the start of a good friendship.”
You had this bad habit of feeling indebted to someone if they paid for you, to the point where you would bend backwards for them if they asked.
Something tells you that being in that situation with Geto is a terrible idea.
You still accept, thanking him as sincerely as you can.
“That reminds me.” Geto continues, pulling out his phone. “We should exchange contacts. We do share a favorite person after all. It would be wise to keep in touch.” He tells you with a steady grin.
Your stomach flips. You don’t want to. You genuinely don’t want to.
But the book is heavy in your hands.
When Geto offers to walk you to the station, you finally gather the courage to decline. You thank him repeatedly for his kindness, slipping away before he can coax you into doing anything more.
He was nothing but polite to you
Kind even.
But there’s something so horribly wrong about Geto Suguru.
—
Geto and Unmei moved fast.
They became an official couple one week after they met. Two months later, Unmei moved into his place.
They moved fast, as most soulmates do. After all, if two people are destined to be together forever, why wait? Why not get the hard part over with first so you can enjoy forever more?
At least, that’s how you saw it.
The party was subdued but extremely upscale. Geto’s apartment was something else entirely. Luxurious floors with open spaces. When you looked outside the spotless glass, you could see the glimmering lights of the city far beneath your feet.
You felt like you could fall through the glass and crash into those lights. You’d shatter into a million pieces, twinkling like the stars above.
“Would you like another drink?” A voice asks.
You glance up. Nanami Kento’s eyes remain on you. You suddenly remember what you were doing.
You look down at your cup—just water. You were driving home tonight. “I’m fine, but thank you.”
Nanami nods, taking a swing of his own cup. The amber-colored liquid swirled around the glass.
Out of all of Geto’s friends, you think you liked Nanami the most. He was quiet, straightforward, polite, and a complete gentleman. He was one of you, you later found out—someone with un inked wrists. When Unmei dragged him across the room to ‘keep each other company’, you thought it was another one of her schemes.
Well, it definitely still was her scheme, but you didn’t mind it too much. Nanami was good company. He was much more preferable to Geto’s other friend. The tall one with blue eyes and white hair. The one that kept staring at you like he knew something you didn’t.
“So how do you know Geto?” You ask.
His lips thinned. You almost smile.
“Old classmates.” He tells you. “He, along with a couple of others, was in the grade above me.”
He seemed exhausted even thinking about it. You wonder how wild his upper-level students were.
“What about you and Unmei?” He asks after a bit.
You hide your smile behind your glass.
“We were practically raised together.” You start. “Attached at the hip, ever since we were kids.”
You two used to plan your weddings together. She wanted her kid to marry yours. Every day you were at each other’s houses. Every weekend was slumber parties and sleepovers.
When kids used to mock you for not having a name, she was the one who defended you. She was the one who chased off bullies and wiped away your tears.
She’s been in your life all your life. You can’t remember a time she wasn’t.
“Hm,” Nanami comments, “you two sound close.”
“We are,” you agree, even when you can taste the uncertainty on your tongue.
She stood a little way away. Unmei looked borderline unrecognizable from the one you knew just a few months ago. Her hair was pushed up from her face, a stark contrast to the looser hairstyles she used to prefer. Her dress was sleek and glamorous. She probably wore hundreds of dollars on her wrist. She blended right into the elite group she was currently laughing with.
Nanami keeps talking about something. You hum along, unable to take your eyes off of her. You keep watching until you can’t anymore.
Sometime later, you find yourself on the balcony. The murmur of the crowd has dwindled behind you. It’s cold, you didn’t bring a jacket. There are goosebumps littered across your arms, but you don’t want to go inside yet. You’re not sure if you can continue looking at Unmei as she changes into something you can’t reach anymore.
There it was again. That bitterness. The guilt washes it down all over again.
Footsteps. Someone takes their place right next to you. At first, you think it’s Nanami’s attempt to restart the conversation.
Geto leans over the railing, watching the city below.
“It’s a pretty view, isn’t it?” He asks, voice gentle and soft. “It’s a huge reason why I bought this place.”
You flex your fingers. The air suddenly gets colder.
“Yeah.” You give, listening to the muted sounds inside. “It’s beautiful.”
That’s the truth. The city lights twinkled and buzzed with life. Part of you wanted to sit there and count each one. You might be stuck there for years.
“It’s even more beautiful in the mornings,” Geto continues, “there’s a gentle fog that covers the city, and the horizon is this pale pink. I really hope you see it one day.”
You shift, a bit uncomfortable by the confession. You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by it.
“You have a lovely home.” You finally say. “It’s very beautiful. I’m sure you're ecstatic to share this with Unmei.”
A genuine smile lifts your face as you think back to the times Unmei gushed about meeting her future soulmate. She’d planned everything: the house, the car, the dog. You’d sat there quietly, listening, just happy to be in her life.
“I bet you must have waited years to finally meet her.” You tell Geto as you admire the view. “You’re a very lucky man.”
You expect a laugh. You expect a bashful acceptance.
“I never wanted to meet my soulmate, initially.”
For the first time in the conversation, you truly look at Geto. He’s staring right back. His purple eyes are darker in the dim lighting. They’re almost a muddy brown.
“When I was younger, I had a grim opinion of soulmates.” His jaw tenses. You catch the movement. “The idea of having someone I was tied to by fate used to sicken me. It felt like control. It felt like something cosmic wrote out my future, and I was entirely helpless to it.”
You can’t pull your eyes away. Whatever you were hearing, no matter how jarring, felt honest. You were drawn to it–a bee to a flower.
“I think now, I’ve mostly changed my mind.” He shrugs. “The bond isn’t truly control. Rather, it’s a path, guiding us to something far more desirable.”
You blink. What could you say to that?
Thankfully, Geto doesn’t let you fluster for long. He steps ever so slightly closer. It’s already too close, but you can’t move. You’re stuck in your spot. Paralyzed.
“And, if anything.” He leans down, voice suddenly hushed. “I’d consider you the lucky one.”
“Me?”
He smiles. Amusement laces his lips. Long fingers reach for your arm. He slowly turns your hand, showing your blank, un-inked wrist.
“Yes,” he tells you, “this is truly lucky.”
You see it then. It flashes right across his purple eyes.
Jealousy.
It’s so hateful, it nearly makes you panic. You stumble back, out of his hold. The meeker part of you urges you to run. As far as you can. Run before–
“Are you alright?”
Concerned sincerity etches across Geto’s face as he reaches out to stabilize you. Hands press on your shoulders before they slip away.
You avert your gaze.
“I’m fine.” It’s too sharp. You force yourself to soften your tone. “I guess it’s a little chilly out.”
Geto barely wastes a moment. He slips off his jacket and settles it onto your shoulders before you can protest. His cologne clings to the leather. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon.
“Keep it.” He stops you when you try to take it off. “Stay out here and enjoy the view a bit more. It’s truly breathtaking.”
You watch as he slips back inside, playing the perfect host to his guests. The air is still cold, but you can finally breathe again.
Later that night, Suguru gets on one knee and proposes.
Unmei says yes.
❤︎
There’s a way to reject the soul bond. You’ve seen it happen exactly once in your life.
You were fourteen, watching from the stairs as your mom comforted your next-door neighbor. She was one of the unlucky ones. Her soul bond was filled with nothing but rage and possession. You could see the evidence of it on the bruises on her soft skin. The swelling black eye.
She kept mumbling something of how sick she was to be tied to him. How she’d rather have no soulmate than one so vile. Your mother kept hushing her, insisting on calling the police, letting her stay the night.
She’s not listening. It’s like she’s in a trance as she rises on two shaky feet, drifting towards the kitchen. You find yourself following.
She pulls out a knife, and your mother screams when she digs into the ink on her own wrist.
She stopped bleeding before the ambulance arrived. There’s a gigantic smile on her face the entire time she’s talking to the paramedics.
You’ve never seen someone look so free before.
❤︎
Planning a wedding takes time and money. It’s a good thing that Geto is swimming in the latter.
The restaurant is upscale and practically swathed in elites. You feel very much out of place with your dress that probably wasn’t even worth the cheapest thing on the menu. Geto assured you plenty of times that this was his treat. Ever since the proposal, you’d been swamped in wedding preparations. This dinner was supposed to be a thank you.
Tonight is a celebration of two people.
You, the maid of honor.
And Gojo, the best man.
The two of you sat across from the engaged couple. Unmei was beaming the entire night. The ring was glistening on her finger. You’ve seen it all over her social media, not to mention the hours she spent gushing about how perfect the ring and the proposal was.
But you remembered she hated cluster rings. She used to call them tacky. And she’s told you her perfect proposal over and over again. She’s always wanted it somewhere outdoors, where they’re alone and surrounded by nature.
The complete opposite of how Suguru did it.
“I can barely sleep.” Unmei gushes to you while the two men continue their own conversation. “The wedding is still two months away, but I can barely sleep.”
You give her a comforting smile, taking another sip of your water. Dinner was already eaten, but you hadn’t tasted a single thing. It felt like cement sludge down your throat.
“I bet that’s normal,” you say, “It’s your day. You should be excited.”
“Most nights I just dream about flower arrangements.” She frowns before she sits up again. “Shit, the flowers. Please tell me you—“
“Don’t worry, I already booked the florist you were talking to,” you immediately coddle. “Everything is going to be perfect.”
She visibly relaxes, leaning back in her seat. “Only because you’re here.” She tells you. “I only got this far ‘cuz of you, y'know that?”
You smile. Her face brightens.
“Oh!” She exclaims. “Are you planning on bringing anyone? Someone special?”
The two men gradually quieted. You arch your brow.
“Probably not,” you say, “besides I’ll have a lot of stuff to do on the day of. I won’t have time for a date.”
“What about bringing Nanami?” She pipes up. “I’m sure he can entertain himself while you’re busy.”
Someone’s gaze stings your skin. You ignore it.
“Why would I bring him?”
She scoffs.
“Don’t act like that.” She chides. “I saw how into you he was at the party. Please tell me you got his number.”
You did. And you two text every now and then. Non-soulmates are rare, so even if you don’t end up in a relationship, it’s nice to keep in touch.
“Nanami?” Geto echoes, finally making it known that he was eavesdropping.
Unmei turns to him with a smile. “I introduced them a while ago. Aren’t they just perfect for each other?"
‘Is she saying that just because neither of us has soulmates?’ You try not to feel so harshly about it.
Geto smiles, but it lacks any warmth.
Gojo turns to you.
“I didn’t know you met Nanami?” He sports a wide grin. Almost like a sneer.
You shrug. “We talked for a bit sometime back.”
“I feel bad for you. I know I’m not supposed to talk crap about my juniors, but that guy is so boring.” He rolled his eyes. “He was even worse in high school, if you can believe that.”
“I didn’t think he was all that bad.” You counter.
“Ah, I get it.” Gojo nods. “You’re into the quiet, studious type of guy.”
You shift in your seat. “It’s nothing that dramatic.” You respond. “He was just really nice.”
“Hm.” Gojo takes a swing at his glass. “I guess I see wedding bells in your future, then.”
“Satoru.”
Geto’s voice is clipped. His eyes have shadows. Gojo puts his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ motion. There’s a lazy smile on his mouth. The atmosphere is so strained that even Unmei’s smile weakens. You take another sip of your water. You really wish you’d ordered something stronger. You had no idea tonight would be this tense.
Unmei quickly turns the conversation to something else. She brings up more wedding plans. The rest of the night is spent ignoring the elephant in the room.
Sometime after that, you and Gojo end up outside the restaurant, alone. Unmei and Geto are still sorting out the bill. You spot them lingering inside. Unmei is talking animatedly to a waitress. Geto is scrolling on his phone.
You don’t have much in common with Gojo, and you’re happy to keep the silence as the two of you wait. He, however, doesn’t seem to share your thoughts.
He leans over as you watch the engaged couple.
“So, how long do you think they’ll last?”
You glare up at him. He grins.
“That’s not funny.” You immediately rebuff. “Why would you say that?”
Satoru shrugs.
“C’mon, you can’t say you’re the tiniest bit doubtful they’ll stay together, right?”
You shake your head.
“They’re soulmates,” you respond. Their companionship was written in the stars from the start. They are a certainty. “It’s tradition.”
“Soulmates don’t always stay together,” Satoru says, “and Suguru isn’t one for tradition.”
You say nothing. Gojo only takes it as a sign to pester you further.
“Wanna make a bet with me?”
You narrow your eyes at him.
“I’ll bet all the money I have that they’ll break up right before the wedding.” He thinks for a moment. “Maybe on the day of: Suguru loves being dramatic.”
Your lips curl into a sneer.
“I thought you were supposed to be Geto’s friend?”
What kind of person bets their friend’s relationship will fail?
“I am his friend,” Gojo argues. “I’m only saying this ‘cuz I know him so well. No offense to your bestie, but she’s not his type.”
“No.” He tilts his head, studying you. “He prefers someone a bit more…docile.”
You shift, trying to hide your discomfort underneath his gaze.
“They’re coming out.” You watch as the couple shifts closer. “Please don’t tell them you’re betting they’ll break up.”
Gojo laughs.
“Aye, captain.”
❤︎
Unmei stumbles into your apartment at 1 am.
You’d forgotten you’d given her a spare key. When you woke up to muffled footsteps and murmurs, you thought someone was robbing you. The influx of emotions you felt as you rushed out with a baseball bat, only to discover your friend draped across your couch.
Your very drunk friend draped across your couch.
“Unmei?” You shake her shoulder.
She barely moves. You do it again. She finally groans.
“Hi.” She rasps out. Her throat is groggy with exhaustion and alcohol.
“How…” You try to find the proper words. “How did you get here? Did you drive?”
“Uber.” She murmurs. “Sorry…I…sorry. Didn’t–didn’t wanna go back. Didn’t wanna see him.”
Her words are stilted, but you think you’re starting to get the picture.
“Did you and Suguru get into a fight?” You ask gently.
She laughs. It sounds bitter.
“You have to talk, to fight.” She tells you, and you want to press her on that, but she’s talking again.
“Suguru’s sad you don’t like him.”
“What?” You lean closer so you can hear her properly.
“Suguru–” She snuggles deeper into your couch”--he’s sad you don’t like him. Why do you not like him?”
“I like him.” You try to smile. “Of course, I like him. Why wouldn’t I?”
Her eyes are open. The way she stares at you makes your defenses weaken.
“I don’t know, Mei.” You eventually respond. “He’s always rubbed me the wrong way. I…I just find him a little weird.”
You want to tell her about the strange quips Geto’s made. The stuff Gojo said at the restaurant still eats at you. You want to tell her all of those things.
Unmei doesn’t let you.
She sits up so fast, you’re almost worried for her. You’re about to tell her to be more careful, but then you notice the look in her eyes.
Spiteful.
It’s directed solely at you.
“Are you fucking joking right now?” She spits out. “My soulmate is going out of his way to be nice to you, but you’re calling him weird?”
You have to back up as she stumbles to her feet. Her words are slurred and hard to decipher, but the intent is as clear as day.
“He doesn’t even like you.” She rants. “Why would he? For fuck’s sake you don’t even have a soulmate, and now you’re calling mine weird? You’re jealous. You’ve always been jealous of me, and I’m so sick of doing charity work.”
You blink. It feels like your heart’s been torn in two.
“Unmei…?” It’s the only thing you can even think to say to someone who you thought loved you. Tears well in your eyes.
Unmei knows how sensitive you are about soulmates. She always knew. As bad as your fights got in the past, it’s the one line she hadn’t crossed.
Until now.
She realizes what she said. Unmei slumps almost immediately, fully breaking down.
“I’m sorry.” She blubbers. “I–I’m so sorry, I just.”
You push aside your feelings as you always have to accommodate hers. She buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake. When you wrap your arms around her shoulders, she easily leans into your warmth.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” She sobs. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It’s not. “You’re having a bad day. Just sleep it off, okay? We can talk in the morning.”
She says nothing as you leave her on the couch. Minutes later, you return with a blanket, gently settling it over her still body.
“I saw him with another girl today.”
You freeze. Unmei stares blankly at the wall.
“He barely talks when we’re alone. He never talks. I don’t even know why I followed him, but I saw them together. They got into his car.” Her voice cracks. There’s a muted voice in the back of your head to comfort her.
You don’t move.
“I don’t know what they did. I…I just don’t know. That’s part of his job, right? Sometimes he takes his clients out to dinners and stuff.”
She looks up at you. “And–and everything’s so different when we’re alone. He’s so much warmer with you. Whenever we plan something, he’s always asking if you want to come along too. I just don’t get it.”
The apartment is quiet. Distinctly, you can hear a clock faintly ticking somewhere.
“Do you think he’s cheating?” You ask.
“Do you think he would?” Unmei asks right back.
You think of being honest. You think about telling her you genuinely don’t know. Then, you remember the anger in her voice just minutes prior. The hurt is still fresh on your mind. It’s instinct to cower and placate after you’ve been burned so harshly.
Just like always, you tell her exactly what she wants to hear.
“Of course, he’s nice to me.” You hear yourself say. “He probably feels bad for me.” Because you have no soulmate.
“Unmei, you don’t see the way he looks at you.” Does he ever look at her?
“He can’t stop talking about you.” You can’t remember a single conversation you and Geto had about her.
“He loves you. I’m sure of it.” Are you?
A shy smile creeps up on her face. You can feel yourself shatter.
“Really?” She asks.
You settle beside her, squeezing her fingers.
“Trust me.” Words feel like sand on your tongue. “You are going to make each other so happy.”
She’s smiling. You think you’re smiling too, but you’re not sure of anything anymore.
She closes her eyes again. You sit there for a few minutes. When you think she’s asleep, you get up to leave, but her voice stops you.
“I thought she was you.”
“You what?” You ask.
She nuzzles the blanket closer to her face.
“The girl. I thought she was you, but she wasn’t. She looked like you. It was the weirdest thing.”
You think she’s about to say more. She doesn’t.
The next day, Unmei acts as if nothing had happened. She’s laughing and talking during breakfast. You still think about what she said, hours after she left.
❤︎
The week before the wedding, you finally decide you no longer want to be friends with Unmei.
You don’t hate her, you could never hate her, but it’s clear you might’ve valued your friendship differently than she did.
You don’t think you want to boycott the wedding entirely. It’d taken months to plan. The money was already spent. You don’t want to ruin her big day.
But you don’t think you’ll be taking her calls as frequently. You don’t think you’ll drop everything for her anymore.
For now, you just want a bit of distance.
Now that you’ve decided to no longer prioritize her, your life is slowly becoming easier. Instead of doing everything yourself, you’re delegating tasks to the other bridesmaids. You actually make time for yourself instead of fizzing with nerves by the phone, wondering when she’ll call you to her side.
You can finally breathe again.
But old habits die hard.
I need you. Please come.
Unmei texting you in the middle of the night wasn’t a huge issue. But she never sends you this type of message. Formal, short, panicked.
You stare at the words, reading them over and over again. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again.
But what if she needed you?
You’ve been to Suguru’s apartment a few times after the party. It was mostly to pick stuff up or help Unmei. There’s usually a lively atmosphere with warm lights.
Tonight, as you tap on the door, you can’t help but notice how cold the atmosphere feels.
He doesn’t leave you waiting. Geto opens the door with a pleasant smile on his face. His grin widens when he locks eyes with you.
“Come in.” Geto pulls the door back.
You hesitate, but eventually you step in. Not much has changed since your last visit. There are fresh flowers in a vase. Something’s cooking in the kitchen. Still, the apartment feels emptier, somehow.
“I wasn’t expecting you.” Geto smiles. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
You give an awkward smile, shifting your weight.
“I’m sorry, I won’t be here for long,” you tell him before shifting your gaze to the bedroom, “Is she in there?”
Geto tilts his head.
“Are you looking for Unmei?” He slowly asks.
When you nod, he shakes his head.
“She headed out for her bachelorette party hours ago.”
For a moment, you thought you misheard him.
“Her what?”
“Her bachelorette party. I’m so sorry, I assumed you were with her. It’s why I was surprised you showed up.” He admits sheepishly.
“Bachelorette party.” You repeat.
She told you she didn’t want a bachelorette party. She called it a cliché. And now, when you decide to put your feelings aside and reach out, you find out she left you in the fucking dust as she enjoys her night.
You were so fucking done with her.
“Right.” Your throat feels tight. “Ok, then…I should go.”
A firm hand on your shoulder stops you from walking out the door. Geto stares at you with an empathic frown on his face.
“You shouldn’t leave like this.” He urges.
You try to pull away. His grip barely budges.
“Geto, it’s fine–”
“You should eat something at least. It’d be rude to send you away after you’ve been such a good friend to my fiancé.”
That stung even though you know he didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You relent. “Just for a bit.”
He smiles.
“Oh, and call me Suguru from now on.” He suggests. “I think we’re close enough to drop the formalities, right?”
Suguru manages to get you to sit at the dining table. It was already set for two. A little while later, he comes back with two plates and a bottle of wine.
The food smelled delicious, but it tasted like ash in your mouth. You couldn’t find it within yourself to enjoy it. Betrayal made everything taste like nothing.
You don’t consider yourself a drinker, but Geto manages to refill your glass twice throughout the night.
Eventually, Suguru acknowledges the elephant in the room.
“Did you two fight?”
That actually made you laugh. It’s harsh and bitter. You gulp down the last of your wine.
“No,” you say, “I just didn’t fall to her feet this one time.”
That’s all you were for her. Not a friend. Not a companion. You were just some pet she could keep at her side. Bark when she said bark. Sit when she said sit. Roll over when she said. She was treating you like a dog who forgot a trick or two. You feel so pathetic.
You’re so upset, you have to stand up. Suguru only watches you pace back and forth.
“I’ve put up with her bullshit for months, y’know?” You don’t think you’re talking to him at all. You’re just ranting. “Whatever she wanted, I got her. I’ve spent hundreds of hours planning her perfect day with her. And yet, the one time I give an opinion, she immediately blows up at me and–and says all this awful shit, and I have to forgive her.”
Suguru rises with you, blocking your path. You look up at him. He’s blurry from all the tears in your eyes.
“She’s stressed with the wedding,” he tries to console. “I’m sure she isn’t trying to do any harm.”
You shake your head. Somehow, you find yourself sitting on the sofa. Suguru’s joined you. You can still taste the wine on your tongue. You’re drunk. You’re erratic. You’ve stopped giving a fuck.
“What about the stress she’s putting me under?” You argue back. “I tried to be a good friend to her, and she constantly treats me like garbage. And it’s all because I don’t have a soulmate? When has that ever mattered for her?”
Unmei had always protected you from anyone who mocked you for being incomplete. Other. She was your shield.
You can still remember her voice ringing through your head. The hatred. You’ve always been jealous of me, and I’m so sick of doing charity work.
You bury your face in your hands.
“All I ever wanted to do was be there for her.” You sob into your fingers. “Why is she shutting me out like this?”
You wanted to go back to how things were months ago. Back when you had someone so close, it felt like having a sister. Back before–
Suguru gathers your limp form in his arms. The scent of sandalwood and cinnamon overwhelms your senses.
“You poor thing,” he coos, and you melt into his calming words because you’ve never felt more alone in your life. “It must have been so very hard on you.”
You don’t know how long you sit there, snuggled into his chest, crying your heart out. It feels like minutes pass before your tears stop flowing, and your breathing slows down.
He pulls you away from his chest. You follow. You’re still heartbroken, but now you’re embarrassed for crying on your best friend’s fiancé’s shoulder. You look up, opening your mouth to apologize.
Suguru’s lips meet yours.
It’s barely a brush. You feel his fingers caress your cheek before you pull back.
“What are you–” your voice dies in your throat “What–”
“You want to feel better, don’t you?” He asks, voice terrifyingly gentle. “I can help with that.”
Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. When he tries to touch you again, you jump up.
“I didn’t…I never…” Your mind is spinning. You don’t know what to say.
“She’s your soulmate.” It’s the only thing you can think to say. “How–how could you think of doing that to your…”
Suguru tilts his head.
“We both know how stubborn she can get.” He speaks slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. “Look at how much you do for her. You are constantly bending over backwards. Aren’t you tired of doing all this charity work? Don’t you want someone else to take care of you for a change?”
Something clicks in your mind.
Charity Work. Unmei’s words, but that didn’t sound like her at all.
It sounded more like something Geto Suguru would say.
“It’s you.” Something cold splashes across your spine. “You’ve been putting a wedge between Unmei and me for months.”
He’s tried separating you from her as soon as he walked into Unmei’s life. All this time, he was speaking cruelties into her ear about you, manipulating her, turning her against you.
And Unmei fell for it because she thought her soulmate could never hurt her.
Suguru stands up. His smile is gone. You’ve never seen him like this before. You’ve seen him upset, bored, amused. This is different.
Every emotion on his face is gone. It’s like he’s stone.
He calls your name. It’s a warning. You don’t heed it.
“No, no,” you hiss out, “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but I’d never break her heart like this, no matter how angry I am at her. I’m not like you.”
You start for the door. You needed to find Unmei. Fuck the petty fight. Fuck everything. You needed to find her and explain everything to her so that things could return to normal.
You never make it to the door.
There’s a harsh grip on your wrist. Before you can even struggle, you’re flung back against the couch. You collapse on top of the stiff pillows.
Suguru’s quick to cage you in. Within moments, he’s trapped you underneath him. A hand reaches up to trap both of your wrists. His body is right in between your legs, pressing himself right up to you.
You kick. You scream. A hand clamps down on your mouth.
Suguru waits patiently as your rebellion tapers out. You lie underneath him, panting and utterly defeated.
A tear trickles down your cheek. He wipes it away, adoration at his fingertips. It makes you sick.
“I really wanted our first time to be romantic.” He sighs, genuinely sounding disappointed. “I spent the entire day planning our little date. And then you had to get all hysterical.” He clicks his tongue.
“I think you’re spending a bit too much time with my fiancé, Dear.”
You flinch at his words. He grins.
“At the same time, I can’t say I’m not happy with how the night ended.” He releases your mouth. You prepare to yell again. “You can scream if you want to, dear. I’m sure you’d like the whole floor coming by to watch me fuck you. I don’t mind an audience.”
Horror rushes down your body.
“What do you mean?” Suguru says nothing, leaning back to release his tie. “Geto-Suguru,” you beg. “You can’t really mean that. You can’t do this. What about Unmei? What about your soulmate?”
“I thought I told you this already.” He wraps the tie securely around your wrist before considering you.
“Soulmates are paths, guiding us to our true destination.”
He presses his forehead to yours. You lay there, utterly helpless, staring into his purple eyes.
“Through her, I was able to find my true other half.” He confesses. “Someone that perfectly fits me.”
If he were another man, if he had another name, you might have fallen in love right there.
But this man has your friend’s name written on his wrist, and it makes you want to vanish into the Earth.
He rises back up with a grin.
“What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”
You’re shaking your head as he reaches down for your shirt. It’s pulled off of you within moments, revealing your bare flesh. Your skin trembles against his fingers as he explores the skin on your stomach, pushing his hand up until it reaches the bottom of your bra.
Your tits are exposed to the cold air as he grabs them. Curious. Exploring. Nausea builds in your stomach.
“You should relax, love.” He urges as his hand travels down. “You could make yourself sick from all that crying.”
He acts as if he cares for you, even when you know he couldn’t care less. You can feel his heat pressing up against your thigh. It’s a blunt foreshadowing of his true desires.
The silk against your wrists tightens every time you move. The wine isn’t helping either. You feel sluggish, almost feverish. You lie there, completely limp, watching as he picks at your pants. They don’t have much of a fight before he’s dragging them off your body completely, leaving you with just your cotton panties.
The cold settles on your bare thighs. A large hand settles on your upper leg. He squeezes. You jolt.
Suguru’s kissing you again. It’s harsher than the first time. More teeth, like he intends to swallow you whole. He squeezes your chin, keeping you in place so he can continue to devour you. For a moment, you debate biting his tongue off, before you quickly bat it away. The thought of him getting violent, even worse, terrifies you.
But how could he get worse?
He pulls away with a satisfied sigh. The hand on your thigh lifts to your clothed slit. You don’t realize you’re wet until his fingers slip underneath your panties.
There’s a slight hitch in his breathing.
“Is this for me?” You can practically taste the victory in his voice. “How sweet.”
A few moments later, your panties are torn away, too. Your legs are tangled with the thin cloth, leaving you utterly defenseless as he spreads your thighs apart.
“No,” you’re telling him. “Don’t–No, no–”
He hushes you with a quiet whisper, and then his mouth is on your pussy.
Your thighs immediately fall onto his shoulders as he ate you out. There was a rhythm to it. His tongue lapped at your slit before curling at your clit. Immediately, you reacted. Your thighs flexed, threatening to clamp over his head. Something hot coiled in your belly as he sucked on your pussy.
Your protests eventually gave way to sharp gasps and whines as he continued to tongue-fuck you. You think you’re still crying, but its interrupted by another toe-curling mewl. You don’t have the ability to hold them in. They force themselves past your lips and into the frigid air. You could feel Suguru smile against your clit. You’re so wet you’re probably dripping all over the couch, but you think Suguru couldn’t care less.
He lifts you up by the hips. You let out a yelp as he crams his tongue into your hole, drinking the entirety of you.
“That’s it.” His voice is muffled by your pussy. It’s slurred. Drunk. “Lemme’ hear you.”
You obey, helpless to do anything else. Your mind is swirling with self-hatred as you feel yourself approaching the edge. You can’t do anything to stop it. Your hips move by themselves. Your pussy clenches.
Your orgasm was a tiny hitch before you completely came apart. Suguru keeps you there, latched onto your clit like a man starved, until you finally come down from your high.
You lay there, panting, completely spent. Suguru rises from his spot in between your legs. He wipes at his face, never taking his eyes off of you.
The kiss he gives you is terrifyingly soft. Almost sweet. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He gently holds your chin like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.
If you closed your eyes, you could pretend it’s anyone else. Not Suguru. Not your friend’s fiancé. Not her soulmate.
But Suguru doesn’t care about you enough to let you have that fantasy.
“Look at me.”
His voice is too soft to be demanding, but the order is clear from his tone.
Slowly, your eyes drift back open.
Suguru stands over you as if this were his rightful place. You can see his cock, fully unfurled from his pants. The mushroom tip has a bead of glistening, white pre-cum as he slowly aligns it to your battered pussy.
You think the worst part is his eyes.
Soft. Gentle. He stares at you the way no one else has.
Love.
You want to cry again, but you think you’ve run out of tears.
His nonchalant demeanor is cracked. His pupils are flared with lust. He grunts when he slides his swollen tip across your folds. Pussy juice is smeared all over his cock as he does it again and again.
“I’ve waited so long for this.” He sighs, and you don’t think he’s talking to you. “No one is taking this away from me.”
Not even you.
You should be grateful he cares enough to be gentle. His cock is huge, big enough to split you at the seams if he wanted to. You still he lowers himself into your hole. Immediately, your walls flex, squeezing his cock.
Suguru growls and bits his lip. It’s clear whatever control he has left, he’s only holding it by a hair.
It’s almost a relief when he fully sheathes himself inside you. He nearly collapses, face ducking into the crook of your neck. Your toes curl when he hits a spongy spot inside of you that nearly makes you see stars.
“Fuck.” He hisses, voice sharp. “That’s it. That’s it. Just take it.”
It’s an unsteady pace. Brutal, almost mind-breaking as he continues to fuck himself into you. You can hear his ragged breathing in your ear as he drives himself deeper and deeper into your cunt. You can barely keep up with the motions. Your thighs shake with the momentum.
You think you’re saying something, and then your mind is wiped clean with another thrust. It’s an endless cycle of torturous pleasure.
“Suguru–I–I can’t.” You’re blabbering. “I can’t, I just can’t–”
“You can.” He urges back, fingers reaching down to rub your clit. You arch, back lifting up from the pillows. “I know you can, darling. Look at that. Look at you. Look at how well you take me.”
“This was how it was always meant to be.” You can’t decipher the tone of his words. Your mind is too preoccupied with the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. “You were practically made for me.” A broken wail passes out from your lips. He laughs.
At this point, you think he’s too far gone to even know what he’s saying.
“I love you so much, darling.” He leans back into your neck, biting down on the flesh. “No one can take you away from me. You are all for me.”
At least, you hope that’s the case. You can’t bear to think his words have a semblance of intent.
Your mind goes white as you cum on his cock. Your eyes roll back, your back arches up like a bitch in heat as you fall off the edge. Your pussy milks him, clamping down hard as you ride your high.
There’s a moan in your ear before something hot pumps into your pussy, painting your insides with white. There’s so much, even with his dick still plugging your cunt, some still manages to leak out, dripping down your ass.
He takes a shaky breath, and then he’s kissing you again. That same delicate touch he loves to take after he breaks you. You can taste the festering love through his lips and tongue. You let him, too exhausted to fight back.
You think he’s saying something. You can’t hear him over the throbbing in your head. The tone he uses is soft as lips press against your temple.
And then, his cock slips out of your ragged cunt before slamming back in all over again.
❤︎
Mei<3 Missed Call(23)
‘Where are you’
‘Where are you’
‘Please dont do this to me’
‘I’m begging you’
‘I love you so much’
‘I’m sorry for everything I’ve done’
‘Plase don’t do this to me’
‘He’s my soulmate, why would you take him from me’
‘Please don’t do this to me’
…
‘You’re just a selfish slut. Take him then. See if I care.’
Ever since you woke up, all you could do was stare at Unmei’s texts. You’ve read them over and over.
The words never change. Each line cuts you deeper than before.
You’re no longer on the sofa. Sometime last night, Suguru must have moved you. You sit up on a luxurious king-sized bed with silk sheets. Your body is aching and sore. There are marks all over your body.
The man who made them sleeps peacefully right next to you.
You’re still naked. It hurts to move. All what you can do is read Unmei’s texts over and over as you wipe away the sharp tears trickling down your cheek.
The curtains of Suguru’s bedroom are open. It’s early morning. The beginnings of a sunrise creep over the horizon. Buildings are obscured by a light fog, and you can barely make out the outline of the city. The sky is illuminated with pinks and light oranges. It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen.
You don’t notice he’s awake until Suguru’s muscled chest presses against your back. You flinch as his head settles into the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent.
“I told you, didn’t I?” He murmurs against your skin. “It’s a beautiful view. You’ll get to see this every day, from now on.”
You don’t bother batting him away. You just stare down at your phone. There’s no new message from Unmei. She blocked you hours ago.
Fingers pluck your phone from your loose grip. Suguru adjusts himself, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sifts through her panicked messages. He clicks his tongue.
“Never expected anything more from her.” He sighs before he tosses the phone in the mess of blankets. He kisses your neck. “She’ll probably come by today. Hopefully, she’ll move out without much of an issue.” He remarks casually. Dully. Complete disinterest.
Why? You want to ask him. Why you? Why would he–why would anyone–hate you enough to do this?
But then, you remember the look of love he gave you as he rammed his cock deeper. You don’t know how you’d be able to hold yourself together if you saw that again.
For the sake of your sanity, you ask:
“What did you tell her?”
Suguru’s fingers curl around your stomach. You can hear the slightest hint of irritation in his breath.
“Nothing.” He eventually confesses. You want to yell at him, call him a liar. You don’t get the chance.
“She must have felt the bond sever.”
You notice it, just then.
The wrappings on his wrist.
Your heart is pounding in your chest as you grab at it. Suguru lets you unravel his work, silently watching each layer of gauze drop away.
It’s ugly. The skin is raised and irritated. It will probably leave behind a scar.
Not a single trace of Unmei’s name is left on Suguru’s skin.
You want to scream, but your voice is frozen in your throat.
telling someone like satoru that “riding is really hard!!” completely genuinely while he knows damn well that even on the bottom he does all the work. he pats your head n coos, “that’s right, baby…” facetiously with that smile on his face—the one that betrays the fact he’s not taking you seriously. “you do so good, work so much.” he adds right before you jump at him n squeal your discontentment. “what? i’m agreeing with you!” his sarcasm does not go unnoticed as he holds his hands up in surrender. “you have to sit up and move up n down…” he lists, “sometimes even back n forth—!” regardless if his grip on your hips is what sets the pace, or how he lifts you to a hover so he can fuck up into you, or the last time you rode him he yanked you back n forth so hard—scrubbing down on his dick until you squirted. he just can’t help but mess with you a little bit.
You added too much sugar to your coffee. It stings your throat as it goes down.
Shoko sits across from you, sipping on her own drink. You haven’t seen her in almost ten years, but she hasn’t changed her tastes in coffee. Regular black. No cream. No sugar. A habit she picked up from those late-night studying sessions in high school.
“We've been thinking of settling down for a few years now. Starting a family and all that.” She waves her hand dismissively at the waitress, who kindly offers a refill of coffee.
She has changed, however. Taller. Instead of a curt bob, her brown hair is slightly above her chest. The dark circles under her eyes are more prominent than ever, definitely related to the long hospital hours.
You nod in understanding.
“Have you looked around for a mate?” You wonder. It seems impossible to picture Shoko’s pack having any trouble with omegas.
Shoko sets her cup down. You liked the cafe she brought you to. It’s quiet, not too busy. It reminds you of the little nooks and crannies you used to drag her to. At first, you were a little surprised when she reached out after being so quiet for so many years. Now, the nostalgia is slowly leaking through.
“A little here and there.” She admits. “Not seriously, though. The clinic doesn’t leave much room for courting. Suguru’s got his hands full with the temple. Satoru’s well…Satoru.”
You can barely hide your smile at how she rolled her eyes at the mention of her fellow packmate.
“It’s why I wanted to talk to you, actually.” She shifts a little closer. Her eyes are soft from the lack of sleep as she gazes at you. “I heard you’re part of a matchmaking program.”
You nod. She glances away. Shoko almost looks sheepish.
“I was wondering if we’d be able to join.”
A smile stretches across your face.
“Of course! What time do you think you could come in?”
☕︎
You didn’t expect Shoko to present as Alpha.
You two were childhood friends. Being older than her, it was more like you were a babysitter–not that you minded the role. Shoko was a quiet kid even in her younger years. You liked that she often trailed behind you, like your own shadow. It was flattering in its own way. You never had any siblings, so you often regaled her as your younger sister.
You thought she’d be a beta like you. Or maybe even omega. Alpha was the last designation you would’ve ever given a girl like her. Just like you, she had two beta parents–being anything else was close to impossible.
But, looking back, the signs were always there.
The scuffle wasn’t the worst you’d ever seen. Fights are normal, especially for kids around your age. Emotions run high, sometimes. If left unsupervised, children don’t usually have healthy outlets.
Shoko wasn’t a kid you’d ever picture getting into a fight, yet the evidence was clear. It looked worse than it actually was. You can see remnants of dirt clinging to her youthful cheeks from when she took the fall. Her clothes were lightly scraped, as was the skin on her knees. It was nothing a Band-Aid couldn’t fix.
You hadn’t seen what happened. You had been on the other side of the playground when the yelling happened. Shoko barely struggled when you pulled the kids apart. The other girl was crying. Shoko wasn’t. Being the older one, you decided it was best to end the day right then and dragged Shoko home.
The girl was always quiet, but that walk was like talking to stone. She never budged from her clamped lips and tightened fists, no matter how hard you prodded. A part of you understood why. She was probably resigning herself to her parents’ beratement. She didn’t need a lecture from you, too.
Just when you were about to give up completely, she gave in.
“She said she was your friend.” She told you quietly.
“The girl with pigtails?” You asked
Shoko nodded. “She called you her friend, even though you’re mine.”
You glanced down at her hand, tightly clasped on your own.
“I can be both of your friends.” You gently tried to suggest.
She shook her head. Her grip tightens.
“No.” She said with a finality you’ve never seen in a child before. “Only mine.”
☕︎
Despite being well into the modern era, alpha-and-omega matchmaking programs haven’t lost popularity. It’s become a multibillion-dollar industry. Nowadays, instead of being sold off for political power, omegas and alphas can simply go to their local agency to find their mates.
Obviously, betas like you aren’t permitted to join, but you are highly encouraged to become matchmakers. Neutral scents are helpful when it comes to finding alpha-omega pairs. It’s comforting to omegas and non-threatening to alphas. Betas can not only act as matchmakers but also as barriers if things go awry.
You highly doubt that you’d need to be the latter, however, for this pack.
They arrive ten minutes before the official appointment. You knew Shoko had something to do with that because you doubt Satoru ever lost his lazy streak. Having no client, you decide to take them in early.
Satoru’s just as chatty since the days from highschool. He trails behind you as you lead the group to your office, asking about your day and then telling you about his. You didn’t think he’d be a teacher, but he always managed to surprise you.
Suguru is reserved but friendly. He greets you after Satoru’s tight hug, giving one of his own. You heard he now heads a Buddhist temple, though you never considered him the religious type. It’s hard to imagine him in traditional clothes after seeing him in casual wear and a high school uniform for so long.
“Didn’t expect you to be part of a breeding program.” Satoru comments after you’ve shuffled them into your office. He leans in, probably to inhale your scent again. They’ve all done that once or twice. Satoru’s just not as subtle as the other two.
It’s an alpha thing. Omegas and alphas are different from betas. Unlike you, they rely more on pheromones to guide them around the world. He hasn’t seen you in a while; it’s normal to see if your scent has changed.
“We try not to call ourselves that.” You lightly respond, settling behind your office. “Trust me, it’s not as intense. All we do today is look over what you want in a mate—basic preferences. Then I can pair you up with whoever fits best. What you do after is entirely up to you.”
It’s a bad joke. Only Satoru smiles.
You clear your throat.
“So, did you have anything in mind?”
They exchange glances. You, completely used to losing alphas, continue briskly.
“We’ll start with broad strokes,” you tell them. “Obviously, you want a mate who’s open to a pack, right?”
“Yes.” Shoko agrees.
You type it across your keyboard. Alpha packs do a lot better in the program compared to single alphas. Often, your omega clients specifically requested them. You doubted you would have any trouble finding a match for these three.
Suguru and Shoko don’t look particularly happy at his intrusion, but nobody objects. You add it to their profile.
“Any particular scents?” You ask.
“Not too sweet,” Suguru says. “Something more neutral.”
Satoru doesn’t look too interested in this topic. “What he says.”
Shoko is more concrete with her answer.
“Earl Grey.”
You try not to react to that, typing it into their profile with little hesitation.
“I think that’s enough for now.” You hurry along. “Do you have any education or work expectations?”
“Not particularly,” Shoko responds. “I think we’re looking more for a homemaker type– someone willing to settle down for pups.”
You had a feeling. Alpha packs are more interested in being providers, caring for their omega mate who is cuddled in a nest. Most omegas feel the same way. It’s a fairly symbiotic relationship.
“What about you?” Satoru asks.
You look up at him.
“Pardon?”
“Are you thinking of settling down? Having kids and all that?” He continues.
“Satoru.” Suguru chastises, but there’s nothing sharp in his voice. Shoko says nothing. Her warm, honey eyes always felt piercing. You always chalked it up to yet another alphan trait.
You shrug, thinking nothing of the question.
“Quit my job for a mate, you mean?” You ask before you shake your head. “I don’t think I could. I think I’d only be able to do it for a specific person, but I don’t think a person like that exists.”
Besides, you love your job. You love helping people find matches and life-long mates. Why would you ever give that up for children?
“But if that person did exist–”
“Satoru.” You interrupt. “We’re looking for a match for you, not for me.”
He huffs, leaning back in his seat, almost like a scolded child.
“Fine.” It almost sounds like a whine. You try not to laugh.
The rest of the appointment proceeds smoothly. Half an hour later, you’re able to gather additional specifications and preferences. Unlike the first few questions, the three are far more lax with their answers. Typically, after the first session, you’re able to put together matches off the top of your head. For whatever reason, these three were far too vague for you to get a clear idea.
“I think I can figure things out from here.” You tell them when the hour is up. “Would you be ready to meet your potential matches in a week or so?”
Suguru genuinely looks surprised. “I didn’t realize it would be so quick.”
“It’s more for trial than anything else.” You respond. “Don’t feel pressured if you aren’t ready.”
“That’s fine,” Shoko tells you. “Will you be with us when we meet them?”
“Of course not.” You assure. “I’ll just give you their profile. Whatever happens next is entirely up to you.”
You expect her to look relieved. She says nothing. None of them do.
“In any case, it was really nice seeing you three again!” You say when you lead them out to the door. “I wonder why we never met up after high school?”
Satoru frowns as he returns your hug. “It’s ‘cuz you practically ran away from us, remember?”
You wouldn’t necessarily call graduating and moving to college ‘running away’. Still, you laugh.
“I’ll try not to do that from now on.” You tell him. “You still have my number, right?”
Satoru’s still whining as you walk them through shiny glass doors. Suguru offers to buy you lunch, to which you decline. You had another client in a few minutes.
“One more thing before you go.” You call out just before they leave. “I’m a little curious: what made you decide to join the program?”
The three look at eachother. A secret conversation only alphas could ever have.
“We got tired of waiting,” Suguru answers.
Later, you realize that isn’t much of an answer.
☕︎
The three weren’t always this close. You could distinctly remember a time Shoko hated the other two.
Your community was mostly betas, with a small number of omegas. Until then, Shoko lived her school life as the sole alpha for miles around. Being her senior, you constantly worried about her. Alphas weren’t betas. There would always be a missing link between the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to accommodate her. As much as Shoko assured you otherwise, you knew a part of her would always feel that void.
And then, Gojo and Geto came along.
Both alphas. Both in the same year as Shoko. They exemplified the look of Alpha. Both of them towered well over the rest of their peers, already well over six feet despite their ages. When they smiled, you could see glimpses of silvery-white fangs. Being the only alphas in the entire grade, they were extremely interested in Shoko. You were ecstatic, happy to see your friend finally make friends with others.
Shoko was less than enthusiastic.
You didn’t understand why she wasn’t perceptive towards them. When they tried to extend their friendship, she raised her hackles, and her eyes would darken. She was well past her days getting into fights on the playground, but you were sure she was close to snapping on certain occasions.
Gojo and Geto continued to hover around her, despite her hostility. Since you were her friend, they hovered around you, too.
You tried to be a bridge for the three. Shoko hardly ever rejected your invitations to hang out. When the other two tagged along, that fact never changed, but she never seemed happy about it. She’d latch onto your arm, baring her teeth when the other two got a bit too close for her liking. You stopped initiating those hangouts as her clinginess often got far too debilitating.
“You need to be more social.” You finally told her.
“No.” She responded stiffly, her voice muffled by your shoulder.
You two sat on the school rooftop underneath a sunny, cloudless sky. Even on days like these, it was sparsely populated. Most of the student body preferred to have their lunches in the cafeteria or the courtyard.
“They’re being nice.” You urged. “They’re being so nice, and I can’t be your only friend forever.”
“Why not?” She asked.
You rolled your eyes, jostling her ever so slightly.
“I just can’t.” You insisted because you have bigger dreams than being stuck in a tiny town, you know, that has no future. There was a life outside of this place.
Also, you didn’t like being Shoko’s only friend. There’s a reason why she’s so protective of you–possessive at times. It’s an alpha thing: they can’t help but take and keep. Her possessiveness was terrible in her younger years, but at least now she’s a tiny bit better about you having other people to hang out with. Still, she refuses to become closer to anyone but you. Even in middle school, she barely had a handful of acquaintances she was quick to abandon in favor of you. It’s not healthy to be so isolated like that. You worried for her.
She’s about to say something, but then something sour crossed over her face. Shoko hunched over as she melded herself further into your side. You abandoned your chastising and gathered her up in your arms.
Shoko’s ruts were severe. She was almost always out of school those days. Even after her rut passed, she took days to recover. She was weakened and intensely more irritable in the aftermath. The only good part of her ruts was that in the days after, her scent became stronger, even to your weak betan nose. Shoko's scent reminded you of summer turning into fall. A low hill. A grassy plain. A dessert just after a large rainfall. Unlike the few alphas you knew of, her scent wasn't overly invasive. It was clean, and low, and rumbling.
For Shoko, certain vices eased the agony. Nicotine helped, but you never liked the way the smell of cigarettes clung to her body. You tried to help the best you could, letting her cuddle you in quiet places away from prying eyes, rubbing her scent all over you to self-soothe.
But there was a limit a beta could do.
Her volatile ruts were yet another reason to be closer to Geto and Gojo. Alpha pheremones help other alphas. Just being in proximity to another would be enough to steady herself.
Shoko knew this, and yet she remained stubborn.
“You don’t get it,” she whispered after her episode passed. Her eyes were shut as she leaned further into your space.
“You can’t smell them like I can.”
You tilted your head, about to prod further, when Shoko opened her eyes. Her lips twitched into a frown. Less than a heartbeat later, the rooftop door flung open just as a giddy Gojo called out, ‘Found you!’ with a satisfied Geto trailing just behind him.
Shoko barely held back a growl as you pulled her off her feet to greet the other two, quickly forgetting her words. No matter how resistant she was, your determination to get her closer to the other two never faltered.
But sometimes, even you wondered if they were right for each other.
You never meant to eavesdrop. You and Shoko always walked home together; it’s the only reason you made your way to her homeroom, wondering what the hold-up was. She never made you wait. If anything, you always arrived after her.
It looked like a fight, but why would Gojo and Geto smile if they were fighting?
Shoko sat at her desk. She barely packed. You saw notepads and pencils scattered across her space. Gojo sat backwards on the desk right in front of her, hands crossed on the chair as they stared eachother down. Geto stood a little way away.
They were already in mid-conversation. You barely caught the tail-end of it.
“-Who cares who marked who first?” Gojo said, an overdramatic pout arched over his lips.
“You should really learn how to share, Ieiri.” Geto continued because back then, they weren’t on a first-name basis yet. “It’d be better for all of us if you did.”
“You know that’s not natural, right?” Shoko responded; her honey eyes were no longer rich and warm. “You should give up.”
“Shouldn’t you, too, then?” Geto wondered.
The conversation ended the second Shoko noticed you. She stood up in a rush, barely shoving her things in her backpack before she marched up to you and dragged you away with a harsh grip on your arm. You could barely wave to your other two underclassmen before you were carted away by her.
You never asked, abandoning the curiosity as soon as you saw the expression on her face. You always wondered what would have happened if you had arrived just a bit later.
☕︎
Utahime wrinkles her nose before she enters your apartment.
“You smell like him.” She gripes.
You tilt your head before remembering there’s only one alpha in the world that made her face twist up like that.
Satoru always had a habit of scenting you in high school. You may not be able to smell it, but other omegas and alphas can. You scolding him while he sulked on his desk like a puppy wasn’t an uncommon sight. Obviously, he hadn’t broken the habit.
“I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You frown. “I don’t think omegas will like the idea of him scenting a beta.”
The omega perks up. “Wait, he’s joined the program?”
“All three of them, actually.” You tell her as you both settle down in your kitchen. “I managed to set them up with an omega just a couple of days ago.”
Your omega client seemed absolutely thrilled when you told him. Alpha packs are growing more uncommon by the day, so he was right to be excited about it. You hope it went well. He matched most of the pack's wants, so you don’t think it will end in complete shambles.
Utahime still looks unconvinced. “I didn’t think they went for omegas.”
You understood what she meant. In high school, those three never seemed interested in omegas. Shoko was friendly with Utahime, but Satoru always picked on her, and Suguru occasionally joined in. At first, you assumed it was a ‘pulling on the pigtails of the girl you liked’ situation, but their teasing often felt hostile.
“Maybe they finally grew up.” You tell her. “Do you ever wonder who the pack leader is? I never had the chance to ask them, but I always wondered.”
Asking about that kind of thing is a bit rude, especially if you weren’t a potential omega. You’ve seen other packs before, and it’s typically pretty easy to tell who the pack leader is. It’s usually the one who’s always biting the others down, keeping them in place. Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru aren’t like that. They work so well-together, it gets hard to tell who’s really calling the shots.
Utahime snorts. “It’s obviously Gojo.”
“Obviously?” You echo.
“His scent is the strongest. That’s usually what determines it,” She explains, not sounding too interested. “I bet he whined and whined until the other two gave in.”
You felt bad for laughing, but you could honestly imagine that.
“I’m really surprised Shoko’s still with them.” You continue. “I know they’re all pack, but she’s so different compared to the other two.”
Satoru was the most outgoing, but Suguru had his own quirks. Shoko was the odd one out, you always felt.
Utahime shrugs, rifling through her bag. “Maybe they have more in common with each other than you realize.”
For a bit, the topic of the three is dropped. You let Utahime ramble about her work and how her students are doing as she sets out her newest creation: a chocolate raspberry cake.
Omegas have certain quirks when their heat approaches. Utahime bakes–something you take full advantage of. You would feel bad about begging her to bring over her desserts all the time, but Utahime never seemed to mind your desperation. Like most omegas, Utahime's scent was slightly stronger. Now, even your weak betan nose could catch a whiff of her scent in the air. She smelled gentle, like flowers dancing in the wind on the side of a grassy mountain.
“This is incredible.” You moan when you take another bite of chocolate goodness. It practically melts on your tongue. “Can you be my mate? I’d make you happy, I swear.”
She looks away. “Shut up.” There’s no heat in her voice.
“Have you considered it, though?” You wonder, inhaling another slice. “Joining the program, I mean. I can think of a few alphas that might interest you.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think my type is in the program, and besides.” Her face turns disgusted. “Now that Gojo’s in it, I’m not taking any chances.”
You laugh. “I’d make sure to never pair you up, I promise!”
She huffs again. Your voice quietens as you remember something.
“Hey, I was wondering…what do I smell like again?”
She frowns. “Why do betas always ask that? You need to get better noses.”
“Just remind me.”
She rolls her eyes, but she acquiesces.
“You smell the same as always,” she tells you. “Like Earl Grey & Cucumbers.”
By the end of the week, you finally get the call you were waiting for.
You pick up on the second ring and immediately press the speaker button.
“Hiro!” You trill, making yourself comfortable on the sofa. “How have you been?”
Your omega client responds in kind. You make small talk until you eventually bring it up.
“So,” you ask, “how did the date go?”
You expect a barrage of excitement and blabbering. Hiro is a sweet guy. You could tell he would mesh well with those three. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for making such a good match.
“It went okay.” His answer stills.
“Okay?” You repeat.
Just okay? You expect something far more than such a simple answer.
At your silence, Hiro continues.
“Maybe okay isn’t the best word. I liked them but…” he trails off. “I don’t think they liked me very much.”
“Huh,” you say, tapping your fingers. “What did they say exactly?”
“Not much, I mean, they were nice. I just don’t think our personalities meshed well. They were all so quiet, I felt like I was doing most of the talking.”
“Quiet? Even Satoru?”
“I don’t even think he spoke,” Hiro confesses.
You do not think the word quiet appeared in Gojo’s dictionary. He constantly chattered, unable to let the world forget he existed for hardly a moment. It was a major reason you paired Hiro with them. He is just as bubbly. You thought he and Satoru would work really well together.
“Wow,” you say after a while. “I’m sorry, I really thought things would work out between you four.”
“It’s fine,” Hiro responds, just as disappointed. “Plenty more fish in the sea, right?”
You once again tell Hiro your apologies before hanging up. Weird, you usually had more trouble appealing to your omega clients compared to your alpha ones. Maybe this would be a lot harder than you initially assumed.
☕︎
Halfway through your second year, Geto joined the newspaper club.
You were ecstatic when he told you. Shoko couldn’t participate in any early-school activities due to her poor sleep habits, and you doubt Gojo would’ve enjoyed them. Having somebody you knew do an activity you enjoyed was really exciting. It was something you and he bonded over, much to Shoko’s chagrin.
When you had club projects together, it was common to go over to one or the other’s houses. You liked Geto’s house. It wasn’t so large, not like Gojo’s sprawling mansion you’d had the misfortune of getting lost in once or twice. Geto’s home was vibrant and warm, filled with splashes of color and properly decorated furniture.
His parents were nice too. You liked the snacks they brought out, more than happy to indulge in the intricate sweets they prepared.
His parents were a proper alpha-omega pair. His alphan-father was boisterous and hearty in a way that reminded you of Gojo. His voice was loud, and his laugh practically rang through the halls.
His omegan-father was a bit on the meek side. You could count the number of times he’d directly spoken to you. His voice was soft–a complete contrast to his mate. He often resigned himself to quietly nodding along with whatever his husband rambled on. You could count the number of times he’d directly even looked at you.
Once, when Geto was still rummaging upstairs for something or another, you wondered out loud how they met. The alpha was more than happy to tell you the story of how he met his omega. You learned that they were childhood friends before the omega decided to part ways for a bit. Eventually, they reunited and got mated soon after.
“You waited for ten years?” You asked in awe. “Did you ever consider moving on?”
The alpha laughed before shaking his head, “Never.” He told you with a smile. “When alphas find their mate, nothing can keep them away, not even time.”
Geto’s other father stood in the kitchen, dutifully wiping down a counter. He didn’t react when his husband told you about their love story. You could only assume he was used to it.
“That’s beautiful.” You gushed.
There’s a secret smile on the alpha’s lips before Geto marches downstairs, leading you out the door with a glare directed at his father.
“Ignore him,” Geto told you as you trekked to school. “He tells that story to every person he can.” There’s a roll of his eyes, and he failed to hide his embarrassment.
“I think it’s sweet.” You kindly told him as he averted his gaze. “I don’t think I could wait ten years for someone like that.”
Geto considered you for a moment.
“I don’t think I could, either.” He finally admitted. “At the very least, I would get impatient by the end of it.”
You thought you were about to agree when your phone beeped. You glanced at the notification, and your heart skipped a beat.
Takahashi<3: I’m free after school:)
You barely hid your smile. Geto didn’t miss your sudden giddiness as you typed away on your phone.
“Did something happen?” He asked.
You shook your head and placed your phone back into your pocket.
“I think I have a date later.” You told him, oblivious to the twitch on his lips.
“A date?” Geto echoed. You cheerfully nodded.
You liked Takahashi since the start of the school year. He was in your homeroom, and you were already close acquaintances. You wanted to get closer to him, but Shoko often thwarted your plans. She made her distaste in Takahashi extremely clear. You tried not to get too upset by her attitude. She was protective of you and probably thought you could do better. It’s what friends did.
“Maybe we should keep this from Shoko.” You told Geto right before the school gates. “She doesn’t really approve of the guy.”
Geto hummed. “I’m not surprised.”
The day passed on as it normally would. You trudged through your sludge of classes and waited for school to finally be over. When it did, you practically jumped from your seat, barely waving off your friends as you rushed out of the school gates.
Takahashi wasn’t waiting for you, but you didn’t mind. You could take some time to calm your nerves.
You waited.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
You sent him a text.
Eighteen minutes.
You sent another.
Students filtered past you, eager to abandon their homework in favor of arcades and hanging out with their friends. You remained where you were, feeling your excitement drain the longer Takahashi refused to show his face.
After nearly an hour of waiting, you gave up. He wasn’t coming. You wanted to call him, but you can’t bring yourself to. Embarrassment crept up your shoulders and neck. You felt so stupid for even waiting around for this long.
They caught up to you when you were halfway home, glumly dragging your feet across the pavement. Gojo’s long arm draped over your shoulders as he lightly jostled you in an effort to catch your attention.
“Where are you going?” He cheerfully asked. You frowned.
“Home, obviously.” You told him before glancing further up ahead.
Geto gave a lazy wave. Shoko said nothing. You expected her to be a bit less receptive towards Gojo for putting his hands on you.
She had no reaction.
“So, you’re doing nothing, right?” Gojo asked. Glee radiated from his body. “We should go to the movies!”
“That sounds fun.” Geto agreed, before he gave you a pointed look. “As long as you didn’t have anything planned?”
You appreciated that he wanted to give you an out, but it was for nothing. You planned to spend the entire day with Takahashi. Your afternoon remained empty now that he unceremoniously ghosted you.
“That sounds fun,” You said, “but I’m not in the mood to–”
“I’m fine with anything as long as it isn’t that weird Earthworm movie Gojo kept talking about.” Shoko piped in as she stepped closer.
“But it looks so funny!” Gojo whined as he tugged you in the other direction. The other two followed right behind him. “You should give it a chance.”
Despite your reluctance, you were dragged off to the movies regardless. You couldn’t remember the film. The popcorn tasted buttery and salty in your mouth. Gojo kept disrupting you to talk shit about every character that popped onscreen. You weren’t allowed to go home until hours later, when the three made it their mission to walk you home. By that time, you’d forgotten about your botched date. You were far more interested in how the three had suddenly grown close.
It was as if they’d always been friends. Their conversations with each other felt natural, almost right. Even their bickering no longer held Shoko’s usual hostility. Perhaps you’d been wrong to try to force it. They just needed to find each other in their own way.
That day might not have ended the way you wanted it to, but you were still happy.
The very next day, Takahashi completely ignored you. He no longer smiled or greeted you. He seemed perfectly happy pretending you never existed in the first place.
If you were being honest, you did not mind in the slightest. Over time, you forgot about the guy who ditched you, and life continued on as always.
☕︎
Part of you expects the luxury.
When Suguru extended the invite, you knew he was never one to pull his punches. When he plans something, he goes all out. He adores dramatics and flair. This time was no exception.
The restaurant exuded extravagance the moment you stepped through crystal-clear glass doors. The warm air soothed the goosebumps gathering on your arms– a complete contrast to the chilly wind lingering just outside. The floors and ceilings were perfectly polished to the point where you could almost see your entire reflection. The spiral columns were perfect ivory, perfectly matching the black-and-white theme throughout the floor. Your heels clicked against the tiles as your hostess led you through the restaurant. The sounds of clinking utensils and glassware filtered through your ears.
They were already seated, three pairs of eyes clinging to your figure as you made their entrance. Satoru was more than happy to greet you first. His eyes simmer, but his smile barely falters as you get closer.
“What?” You ask.
Satoru wrinkles his nose.
“You smell like alpha.”
“It’s probably because I work with other alphas,” you say, “You know half of my clients are alphas, right?”
“Ignore him.” Suguru cuts in before Satoru continues to badger you. “He skipped his afternoon nap, so he’s a bit fussy this evening.”
You wave it off. Truthfully, you were used to alphas getting mad over another alpha’s scent. It’s happened to a couple of your omega clients, as well as to you. It’s instinct for alphas to flare up when they smell other alphas. Biological. They can’t help it. You actually expected Shoko to be more hostile because of it, yet as you glanced over, she barely even blinked. She must’ve gotten over her scent possession days from high school.
You adjust yourself in your seat as the waitress strolls over. Food and drinks are ordered. You listen to Satoru whine about work while the other two chastise him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink too much, but barely half an hour in, and you’re already tipsy. You know this was supposed to be a get-together, a high-school reunion of sorts. Work was absolutely not to be discussed, but you couldn’t help getting yourself worked up over it. They might’ve been your old high school friends, but they were also the most difficult clients you’ve ever had.
Shoko notices first.
“Just say it.” She eyes you.
“Say what?” You tilt your head.
“You’re mad, right?” Satoru pipes in, absolutely delighted when you frown in his direction. “It’s all over your face.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Oh, it’s that bad, hm?” Suguru hums, and you roll your eyes.
“I’m not mad.” You repeat, before wincing. “I’m…frustrated, I think. You guys are giving me a run for my money.”
After Hiro’s clear rejection, you paired a couple more omegas with the three of them. Each one ended in the same way. You would get a call from a disappointed omega telling you it didn’t really work out. Later that same day, three alphas would innocently seat themselves in your office–ready for another match.
You don’t even know what you’re even mad about. They’re allowed to make rejections; that’s their right. For whatever reason, it oddly felt like they were messing with you.
You could expect that type of behavior from Satoru, maybe even Suguru, but Shoko? You could never see her do something like that for the fun of it.
(Or maybe you were clinging to her high school demeanor–the sweet, quiet girl who used to trail behind you with soft brown eyes and a muted smile)
“At this point, I think you might be doing this on purpose.” Your lips curl up into a smile to indicate how silly you think that is. It’s clearly a joke. Low-hanging fruit, you guide them to so they can quell your worries.
None of them refute it. Eventually, Satoru starts rambling about yet another incident involving the students at his school. Suguru chimes in with his thoughts every now and then. Shoko just berates her packmates for being such nuisances. The topic is carefully avoided for the rest of the night.
With delicious and expensive food carefully stashed into your stomach, the four of you decide to call it a night. When you reveal you took the cab here, the three are quick to invite you into their own car. It doesn’t take you too long to give in.
When you step out into the cold, Shoko offers her jacket. She used to do that back in middle school; smother you with her clothes any time she could. She’d take your clothes too, sometimes. You used to find skirts and shirts missing every time she came over. She never stopped, not even when you scolded her for it over and over again. ‘An alpha thing,’ your parents once told you when you complained, ‘you need to be more considerate of her nature. She can’t help herself. It’s instinct.’.
When she does it now, you don’t think it has anything to do with her instincts. She grew out of it when high school came around. Today, Shoko wraps her jacket around you to protect you from the blistering cold as you follow them outside.
The car belongs to Satoru. You’ve never seen it before in your life, but you can instantly tell. It’s Satoru’s in the way that it’s bright red and sleek. He starts the car with a low rumble. You climb in the back, feeling your seat hum as the car purrs to life.
Suguru settles next to you while Shoko gets into the passenger seat. Your stomach flips when you start to buckle yourself in. You start to remember all the times Satoru nearly killed you with his driving skills back when he first got his license. He’d been so excited back then, constantly offering rides to your house, the arcade, and even to places where there was no need for a car. His need to show off was an ever-present part of his personality back then.
“Did he ever learn to drive properly?” You can’t help lean over and whisper in Suguru’s ear.
He laughs while Satoru puffs from somewhere in front of you.
“I heard that,” Satoru says, “My driving was never that bad. You’re so dramatic.”
It was much worse than bad, but you decided not to bully him about it. Surprisingly, Satoru drives a lot nicer than you expect. He maintains a mostly steady pace, not at all like the sharp halts and breaks his younger self seemed to like so much.
He catches your eye in the rearview mirror.
“See?” He tells you with a proud smile.
You roll your eyes, unamused.
“Honestly, I’d take highschool you’s driving over Utahime’s,” you say, watching the city nightlife as the car speeds up, “she insists on driving fifteen miles below the speed limit. It takes an hour to get anywhere.”
“Utahime?” Suguru echoes, and you remember he probably hadn’t seen her since high school.
“How is she?” Shoko asks.
“She’s doing well.” You respond.
You’re about to offer a reunion before you clamp the urge down. She wasn’t their friend, after all. If anything, she barely tolerated them. Anytime your juniors would crash your hangouts, Utahime’s face would instantly pinch up. For your sake, she remained mostly civil.
“Is she mated?” Shoko asks.
You eye her. It’s a weird question to ask, but you give in anyway, not really seeing the harm.
“No, not that I know of,” you admit, “she’s not a big fan of the matchmaker program, either.”
You’ve tried to convince her numerous times, but Utahime refused to budge. She’d get oddly offended anytime you even broached the topic, so you’ve decided to avoid it.
For a split second, you catch Shoko and Suguru looking at eachother with dark eyes. Secret conversations only alphas could have. You bet their scent was dipping in a way only they could sniff out. A part of you always wondered it was like, but you never wondered for long. It’s not like you’d ever get to experience it.
Were they thinking of Utahime as a potential mate? You didn’t want to burst their bubble, but you highly doubt she’d be happy about that.
“We keep talking about our love lives, but what about you?” Suguru suddenly asks.
You glance at him. “My love life?” You ask.
“Met anyone special lately?” Satoru prods from the front.
You shake your head, watching the scenery pass you by. You remembered them being curious about your dating life back in high school, constantly hounding you the moment you got close to another beta who wasn’t them. It was only natural. Alphas and omegas found lifetime partners in a very different way compared to betas. To you, the idea of talking and going on dates to get to know someone is natural. To alphas, it must sound like an alien concept.
“I’ve got my hands too full of you three to even bother meeting someone.” You tell them with a teasing lilt in your voice before it fades. “Besides, meeting another beta is a lot harder than meeting up with an omega. Everything’s less instinctual, I think.”
“Why would you only restrict yourself to betas?” Shoko asks.
The alcohol was getting to you. Your lips are a bit looser than usual. Your words are cruder. You roll your eyes.
“Who else is there? An omega?” Your voice dipped into a sardonic sneer like you couldn’t even stomach the thought. “An alpha?”
You laugh at the joke. They don’t join in. You don’t notice the darkened tension in the car as you continue to stare out the window, not minding the silence. The evening tired you out. You stifle a yawn, and your eyes drift closed.
Something sharp grazed your neck.
Your eyes snap open. The car has stopped. You glance over to Suguru.
He smiles. There’s a respectful distance between the two of you. He remains a seat apart.
“Did I startle you?” He genuinely asks. “Sorry, I was trying to wake you up.”
“Oh.” You say, calming down your racing heartbeat. “No, it’s okay. Are we here?”
You raise up, trying to peek at the window. Your apartment complex lies just a little way away.
“Home sweet home!” Satoru cheers, his glee having fully returned.
“We’ll walk you up,” Shoko suggests.
“No.” You fumble with your seatbelt. “You’ve done so much already. Thanks for the night. It was fun.”
“It was.” Suguru agrees. “We should do it again, sometime.”
You eye him again. He still hasn’t moved. You resist the urge to touch your neck.
“Yeah,” you say, trying not to make your voice sound so clipped. “That would be great.”
You step out into the cool night air, trying to ignore the three pairs of eyes that followed you across the sidewalk and up the stairs. As soon as you got out of their eyesight, you finally felt like you could breathe again.
Hours later, when you’ve showered and settled into bed, you finally decide to tell yourself there was nothing. You had been half-asleep. You probably dreamed it. You’ve known those three your entire lives; there was no way they could do something like that.
And yet, a part of you could feel it on your neck. You reach up to lightly press on the patch of skin. There was nothing, but a part of you had that feeling memorized. You don’t think you could ever forget that feeling.
Teeth rasping right over your scent gland.
☕︎
You never truly saw Shoko as an alpha until your last year of high school.
You never had the chance to. You’d grown up with her by your side. You saw her every day. You didn’t notice her slowly surpassing you in height. You didn’t notice the way her teeth grew sharper and sharper. To you, she remained as Shoko: your tiny little follower.
In your head, you always put her in a different category than Satoru and Suguru. They were your friends, but they were also alphas. Shoko was your friend. There was a difference, though you weren’t sure what the difference was.
The incident happened sometime toward the end of the school year. By then, the three had formed a true pack. All the bad blood they shared in their first year had completely scattered by the second. They matched eachother well, moving as one coordinated unit. When the four of you hung out, you felt like you were the odd one out. It made you wonder if this was how Shoko felt when you forced her to hang out with your friends, an alpha surrounded by betas.
You weren’t upset at her for finding a friend group she matched with, regardless of how little you fit in. She deserved that.
You appreciated that she tried to incorporate you into her circle, too.
“Are you ignoring us?” Suguru asked.
You gave him a look, already exasperated.
“What are you talking about?” You frowned. “You literally asked me to check your essay. That’s what I’m doing.” You gestured to the paper on your desk.
Technically, it wasn’t your desk. This wasn’t your classroom. The rest of the second year had already left for the day, preferring to spend their time at home or at clubs. These three remained the odd ones out, still lounging on their desks hours after the bell rang.
Since Shoko had this bad habit of refusing to let you walk home alone, you were often forced to sit with them, waiting around until they decided to leave.
You sat just behind Suguru and Shoko. Suguru’s elbows rested on the chair’s back as he watched you work. Shoko mirrored him. Satoru abruptly left a few minutes ago, most likely to get a snack from the vending machine to satisfy his sweet tooth. The only evidence of his presence was his sunglasses and his backpack, hung over his chair.
“I’m starting to think you just gave this to me so I won’t get bored.” You complained. “Your writing’s perfect as always. What am I even looking for?”
“I’m sure you’ll critique it well,” Suguru responded, as an amused smile spread across his lips. “I trust your judgment.”
You rolled your eyes but cast your gaze down on the paper, hoping to find something to nitpick. You knew that was an impossible feat. These three were at the top of their class for a reason.
“I give up.” You told him, handing his paper back. “It’s perfect. I see a 100 in your near future. Stop fishing for compliments.”
He laughed, but he accepted his essay back with fingers ever so gently brushing over yours.
“Besides, I’m not really good at grading.” You continued. “Utahime’s the literature expert.”
“I don’t think she’ll be too happy being asked for a favor like this.” Suguru countered as he tucked away his assignment. His nimble fingers ran across his backpack and tugged the zip shut.
You clicked your tongue. “That’s because you and Satoru are constantly picking on her.”
Your eyes slide to Shoko.
“She likes you at least.” You tell her with a teasing smile.
In that, you mean the two girls are civil to each other. By that time, you gave up on Utahime’s ability to cozy up to these guys. They’re a lost cause–the few omegas in your school already steer clear of them. It’s clear they aren’t looking for anyone to complete their pack.
“I don’t think it’s like that.” She refuted.
You opened your mouth to respond, but then their expressions shifted.
Their hackles raised. They sat up straighter. Alert. You’ve never seen them act like that before. Your smile faded, pulled away from your lips by their sudden behavior.
There’s a soft thump at the classroom entrance. Your eyes landed on Satoru’s body, leaning against the door. His breaths were ragged, shoulders hunched over.
You stood up, making your way towards him. Shoko called your name, but you didn’t stop. You hesitantly reached for your junior. Concern settled at the back of your throat. Was he sick or something? He seemed okay when he left just a few minutes ago.
“Satoru?” You called, watching his shoulders stiffen. “Is everything okay–”
You saw his eyes. There was a flash of blue and teeth before he lunged at you.
Suguru stepped in before he could make contact.
There was a clatter of desks as Suguru pushed his friend to the floor and restrained him. You stumbled back, nearly tripping over on your feet, before your back collided with Shoko. She held you securely in her arms as you watched the struggle.
You couldn’t even recognize your friend as he breathed heavily, still pinned underneath your other friend. His eyes hadn’t left yours. They were clouded, unfocused.
Satoru’s scent was often muted to your beta nose. Sometimes, when he got particularly worked up, you caught a whiff of something deep and almost fruity in the air.
Today, the clear scent of Satoru invaded your senses.
Rut, your brain supplied even when your body remained helpless to do anything but watch. Satoru had gone into rut.
“Should–” Your voice shook. You swallowed down your nerves. “Should we get a teacher–”
Shoko called your name again. This time, you listened.
Your eyes drifted up to meet her own. She stared straight at Satoru’s writhing body.
“You need to go. Now.”
You don’t recognize her tone. You’ve never heard such a voice come from her before. It was deep, almost guttural. Unapologetically alpha.
It was why you obeyed. Silently, you packed up your stuff, putting away your assignments and pens, shoving them into your bag. You avoided the scene of the two alphas calming down their packmate as you fled the classroom. You heard Satoru’s grunts through the hall. They followed you, rang through your ears the entire walk home.
The next day, Satoru wasn’t at school. When he returned the day after, the incident remained unspoken. The three refused to acknowledge it. You did the same, following in their footsteps. It was easier to pretend everything was fine. You wanted to forget the vision of Satoru staring up at you with clouded eyes. You wanted to forget Suguru’s strength as he restrained his friend. You wanted to forget what you heard in Shoko’s voice.
It was easier to pretend.
Around that time, you looked into colleges out of town.
☕︎
You think it’s time you cut Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko off.
Not personally. It’s the first time in a while that the four of you have seen each other since high school. Nostalgia for the good old days clouds your vision. You couldn’t do that to them or to yourself.
But clearly, your services were not working out for them. The many matches and omegas you have set up always ended in rejection. There wasn’t a single omega they liked, and they often had vague reasons for why. Getting a clear answer was like pulling teeth. Maybe they couldn’t be honest with you because of your past with them.
It was not fair to those three. Maybe you were wrong to offer your services. You should have recommended one of your fellow matchmakers instead. A part of you will always feel guilty for jumping the gun like that, far too excited to help your friends find love than being logical.
You’d cut them off professionally. As for personally, you would still keep in touch here and there. Just not as often. You were gradually declining their invitations to hang out. You texted them less and less. You wouldn’t cut them off, but you were slowly starting to remember why you drifted away from those three in the first place.
You agonized over your decision for days, wondering how to break it to them.
When they extend the offer for drinks at their place, you decide to bite the bullet.
One rainy evening, you step out of your car, blinking away the drizzle as you stare up at the mansion. It was large enough to pack ten families into the estate. You knew Satoru’s family was well off, but it always breaks your brain when you try to understand how well off. Satoru offhandedly mentioned he liked the property for how demure it was compared to his childhood home. The front door puts your entire apartment to shame.
You barely wait a second after you knock. The door pulls open, and Shoko invites you in with a smile on her face. You return her hug, feeling her soft cashmere sweater underneath your fingers. She’d been smoking recently. The scent of it was faint but still noticeable in the air. A part of you wonders if you can chastise her as you did back when you two were kids.
You thank her. Thunder rumbles in the distance as you step inside. The rain and wind picked up, swirling angrily outside and pelting the windows.
“How long do you think the rain will last?” You ask her as she leads you further inside.
There’s another boom of thunder and lightning. Shoko glances down at you thoughtfully.
“We’ll definitely be stuck in here for a while.” She tells you.
You nod along. Hopefully, the rain lets up by the time you go home.
Unfortunately for you, the rain poured throughout the evening. Mother Nature refused to let up for even a moment, going on and on.
Compared to the chill of the rain, the house provided bright lights and warmth. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the three chattering about their daily lives. Throughout it all, you smiled and talked when necessary. You didn’t know if they noticed, but you were anxious, your entire body twinged with nerves. Despite the wine swirling in your cup, you refused to take a single drop. It’s best to have this conversation sober.
You wait until there’s a lull in the conversation. You take a deep breath.
“So, I was thinking about transferring you guys to another matchmaker,” you say. “But I want to hear your thoughts first.”
They don’t seem necessarily surprised by your declaration. Satoru adjusts himself on the couch. He props his chin on his hand as he studies you. His sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. Pretty sapphire eyes stare unwaveringly at you.
“Transfer us?” He echoes. “I thought we were your favorite clients.”
You try to match his lazy grin, but it comes out stilted and wobbly.
“I think it’d be best for you all.” You avert your gaze, fiddling with the cup, almost grateful to have something to keep your fingers busy. It was an expensive-looking cup. When the wine glass caught the light at just the right angle, it sparkled. Translucent glass turned iridescent.
“It’s not fair for me to keep you guys on like this for months,” you continue. “Every omega I’ve matched with you three always ends in rejection. Maybe you’d have better luck with someone else?”
You huff out a laugh.
“At this point, I’m starting to think you don’t want to meet omegas.”
You don’t need to have heightened senses of an alpha to know that was the wrong thing to say.
Immediately, the evening's quiet atmosphere turned heavy and daunting. You felt it in your shoulders as something invisible almost pinned you to the sofa.
Satoru’s smile almost turns feral.
“You’re right.” Shoko says.
You can’t read her expression. Her lips are pulled into a thin line. You think you like the lipstick shade the wears tonight. It compliments her tone well.
You squint at her. A pit forms in your stomach.
“What?”
“We don’t want an omega.” Suguru finishes for her. “And after meeting so many, I’ve never been certain of anything more. We don’t want an omega, we want you. We always have.”
He keeps his tone softing, almost coaxing, like you’re some wild animal. Despite the gentleness of his voice, his words cut deep into your soul. You’re shaking your head before you realize what you were doing.
“I don’t understand.” You repeat his words over and over in your head as you lift yourself from your seat. “I–I don’t understand why–”
“C’mon, you couldn’t have been that oblivious, right?” Satoru slips into the spot next to you. A long arm rests across your shoulders, keeping you in place. “We made things so obvious in high-school. Pretty sure Shoko was pining ever since elementary.”
You wait for Shoko to refute the claim. She doesn’t. Even now, you’re thinking everything they’re telling you is some type of sick joke–something alphas tell to unsuspecting betas to laugh at.
“I’m a beta.” You state the obvious. “You are all alphas. You can’t–you shouldn’t want me–”
“I don’t care.” Shoko says as she stares at you with pretty eyes the color of warm honey. “I never have.”
Satoru hums in agreement. He leans into your side, nuzzling his face into your neck. When he’s close like this, the smell of his scent is stronger. He smells like a Buddhist temple tucked away in the highest mountain peaks, unreachable to all. The wind howls and whisks past ice and rock. The air is freezing and thin, almost suffocating.
You move when he gets uncomfortably close to your nape, right where your scent gland is.
You throw his arm off your shoulders, standing up straight. You keep your eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at any of them. You don’t think you’d be able to look at them for a long time.
“I don’t want to listen to any of this anymore.” You hear yourself speak.
“You three are drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” You step away from the living room. Your movements are robotic. Stiled. Your body is kept on autopilot as your brain tries to keep up with what just happened. You head for the door.
“Sleep it off. We can talk about this later.”
You never reach the exit.
A hand grabs your wrist, keeping you in place. You turn back to see Suguru’s empty expression. His purple eyes are dark. He gives a smile. It looks hollow. Fake. Plastic.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you, “I just…I don’t think I can wait anymore.”
The words feel familiar. A conversation the two of you had a decade ago.
You open your mouth to ask when his lips swallow yours.
It’s utterly possessive in nature. Suguru’s scent envelopes you whole as he kisses you. He smells like what lurks underneath the roaring sea. You feel like you’re drowning, trapped in underwater caves where your ears pop from the immense pressure of the unwavering ocean.
Your hands press against his chest, urging him off. Even then, he only releases you when he’s had his fill. You stumble back, looking at his reddened lips and dark eyes. He’s breathing heavily, slightly hunched over like he’s ready to pounce. His eyes are wide and completely blown out.
You don’t think you’re looking at a person anymore.
You’re looking at a predator.
“Yeah.” It’s something between a growl and a laugh. “I don’t think I can wait any longer for this.”
Your words are cut off by a scream–your scream. There’s a harsh grip on your wrist before you’re being dragged back to the living room and haphazardly thrown onto the couch. Satoru’s hands keep you down as you struggle fruitlessly against his arms. He laughs somewhere above you as your vision twists and turns in mindless panic.
Satoru’s kiss is a lot more violent. He’s messy, smearing his scent all over your neck, your scent glands, eager to claim. His sharp teeth are more than happy to explore your lips. When he reluctantly pulls away in satisfaction, your lips are left in bloody tatters.
“I don’t think I can wait anymore, either.” Satoru agrees with his pack mate. “I’m surprised you were the one who broke first, Suguru. What happened to ‘waiting ‘till everyone’s ready’ and all that bullshit? So desperate.”
Fingers play with the edge of your shirt as Suguru scoffs. “Shut up.”
“Stop.” You’ve never heard your voice sound like this before. “Don’t–don’t–”
“Enough.”
The two freeze. So do you. Something blankets over your body.
Calming pheremones, the last piece of your brain supplies, but who would…?
Shoko’s face enters your vision. You blink helplessly at her.
Her expression is serene and calm as she studies your body. Her hand reaches out, gently caressing your face and tracing the length of your jawline. You feel the scrape of freshly manicured fingers.
On omegas, alpha pheremones help them become more receptive towards their alphan mates. It calms them, makes them feel closer to their chosen mate, and helps the process move along.
On betas, however, alpha pheremones cross wires. You weren’t built to be receptive. It clouds your vision, making your thoughts hazy. The panic remains even as your body slows down.
“Did they scare you?” She asks, voice gentle and dripping with faux innocence.
You can only manage a weak whine. She smiles and leans down to place a delicate kiss on your feverish temple.
“It’s my fault.” The worst part is how honest she sounds. “I should have told you back in high school. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have left, and maybe things would’ve been different…” Her voice trails off, and there’s this faraway look in her eyes.
“I meant what I said.” Her eyes focus on you again. “I don’t care that you’re a beta, but I don’t think we can treat you like a beta…not if we want you to understand that you belong with us.”
You look into her eyes, right underneath the bubbling warm honey. You think you see it then. Something rotten that festered there for at least a decade before it climbed its way to the surface. For a moment, you wonder how you hadn’t seen this in high school. You wonder how she tricked you, coerced you into becoming her friend despite the dark depths she held so closely to her heart.
And then, you understand she hadn’t hidden this from you at all.
Until now, you hadn’t seen her as alpha.
“I love you,” Shoko tells you earnestly, brushing away the tears cascading down your face. Then her voice hardens, and she isn’t talking to you anymore.
“I make the first bite.”
Satoru and Suguru don’t argue. Why would they? To alphas, the pack leader’s word is law.
Her kiss is gentle. She’s slow and careful as she carefully glides her lips and tongue against your own. She’s careful of her teeth, savoring your shuddering mouth as she swallows your cries and pleas.
You hate how familiar her scent is. Shoko is the Earth that the mountain rests on, where the oceans rock. She was everything you’ve ever known, and yet there was so much left to uncover. You just didn’t think you could do that before losing yourself.
Someone tugs down at your pants. Your eyes widen, and your panic builds up all over again. Shoko hushes you. Her lips trail to the edge of your jaw.
“He just wants to taste. Don’t mind him.” She tells you as Satoru tugs your pants down your sluggish legs. His fingers itch with eagerness as he squeezes the plush of your thighs.
“Don’t worry.” Shoko continues as Satoru practically rips your panties apart. “We won’t knot you tonight. We know you aren’t ready for that.”
“Fuck.” Satoru groans as he spreads your legs. He leans down to nuzzle your pussy, nose bumping at your clit. “You smell even stronger down here. ‘Can never get enough of your scent, I just wanna drown in it.”
“Who’s the desperate one, now?” Suguru goads as his own fingers explore what’s underneath your shirt. He grabs a fistful of your chest before squeezing. Your back arches up from his movement. He smiles.
Satoru ignores him and buries his face completely into your pussy. His tongue flicks out, eagerly lapping up at your hole. His movements are oddly stilted, almost unsure, mostly driven by instinct rather than anything else. Of course, he wouldn’t have any real sexual experience. Unlike betas, alphas and omegas mate for life.
His eagerness largely makes up for his lack of technique. Within moments, your body responds to him, urged on by his touches even though your mind is clinging on to the last semblance of sanity you have left.
“I love it.” His voice is almost a sob, strangely broken and muffled as his tongue drives deeper into your hole, hoping to drink up the essence of you. “I love this. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so glad we have you again.” His hands reach up to keep your trembling thighs away from his face, opening up more of yourself to his eager mouth.
“Satoru.” You hated how heedy your voice sounded. Your core clenched at the intrusion of him tongue-fucking your sensitive pussy, muscles contracting like they wanted nothing more but to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. Your eyes squeezed shut as he pulled out to nibble on your clit.
“Please–please don’t–I don’t think I can–”
“I know, baby.” He coos from somewhere underneath you. “It hurts, right? I can make it all better, I promise. Just let go, baby. You can do it, I know you can.”
Encouraged by Suguru playing with your tits and the constant pressure of Satoru right at your cunt, you can’t put it off any longer. Shoko licks a stripe across your neck, and you’re gushing all over Satoru’s face as your pussy cums over and over again. Fingers dig into your ass cheeks, keeping your hips from lifting up as Satoru wrings out every last drop you have. He doesn’t stop until you collapse, exhausted underneath the staggering weight of your orgasm.
With bleary eyes, you watch as he rises from your throbbing pussy. His lips are still shiny. He never breaks his gaze from you as he licks his lips, savoring each drop.
Suguru takes his place between your trembling thighs. There’s a hiss of a zipper. Your eyes get impossibly wider as his cock pops out from underneath his briefs. It’s already an angry, bright red.
You don’t fight this time, not when Shoko’s pheremones are already starting to drown you again. You watch as Suguru’s cock aligns itself to your battered pussy. The tip taps on your swollen clit as he rocks himself through your plush lips, once, twice, thrice, until his cock finds your hole.
You hate the way his eyes glaze over. He looks down at you with complete adoration.
“I love you.” He tells you. “I can’t wait until you love us, too.”
Shoko’s teeth find your neck at the same time he bottoms out. The pain of the claiming bite somehow overrides the fullness you feel as Suguru ruts into you over and over again, completely giving into instinct.
With that, you are completely and utterly claimed as pack.
warnings: age gap, power imbalance, lactation kink hinted, suggestive/soft smut buildup, dirty thoughts, price being a full-on menace, breeding/prey language
you show up ten minutes early.
little thing in a stretched-out dress that clings to your bump, a button-up cardigan barely hiding the way your tits are pressing against the fabric.
hair done. makeup light. cheap little folder tucked in your hands, pressed under your belly.
you knock.
and john price looks up from his desk and nearly groans out loud.
because you walk in glowing.
waddling a little.
smiling so big.
“hi! i’m here for the assistant position. sorry i’m a little out of breath, the stairs—”
“sit down, love,” he cuts in.
voice low, rough. already full of that accent and already wrecked.
you blink, cheeks warm.
“o-oh! okay.”
you sit. wince slightly. shift on the cushion with your knees pressed together, hands folding over your bump like muscle memory.
john watches.
watches the way you move slow, all careful.
watches the bounce of your chest — so full, nipples peeking through the fabric now that you're close.
you don’t even realize.
“how far along are you?” he asks.
doesn’t even open your file. doesn’t care.
“almost seven months.”
“you doin’ this on your own?”
you pause.
nod.
“yes, sir. just me and baby.”
he exhales. leans back in his chair, one hand dragging down his beard.
baby.
that fuckin’ word, from your soft little mouth.
he wants to say —
that belly should be mine. i’d fuck you again right now if i could. you’re perfect, made for it. full, warm, helpless little thing just waiting to be kept.
instead, he says:
“and you wanna work?”
you perk up.
“yes! just part-time. i don’t wanna strain myself, but i’m still able, and i wanna save some money before the baby comes.”
god.
you’re so fucking sweet.
he bets your apartment’s tiny. your cupboards half-full.
you probably eat cereal for dinner and watch baby videos at night. and now you’re trying to work — trying to be responsible — even though your ankles are already swollen and your belly’s in the way and you can barely bend over.
“i’ll do anything,” you add quickly. “i just need a shot.”
john looks at you.
hard.
long.
then he stands.
walks around the desk. comes to stand in front of you — tall, wide, shadowed in the doorway light.
you look up at him with big eyes.
“sir…?”
he crouches a little. one palm lands on the armrest beside you.
you freeze.
“you ever had a man take care of you proper?” he murmurs.
his hand brushes the curve of your belly — just barely.
“wh-what…?”
“not talkin’ about the father, sweetheart. i mean someone real. someone who’d put you in a warm bed and rub your back and pay for everything — make sure you never had to lift a finger.”
you swallow.
your breath hitches. thighs press tighter together.
“i-i just came for the job, sir…”
he smiles.
“mm. and i’m givin’ it to you. but you’re gonna be more than just an assistant, yeah?”
he leans in.
“you’re gonna be my girl. my pretty little secretary. sit at your desk and look sweet and full and happy for me.”
his hand smooths over your belly now — slow, deliberate.
Price and his little wife, fat with his child, coming to see him in his office one day, poor guy forgot his lunch :( wifey thought she was doing a good thing bringing it to him, making sure her hubby stays fed. Cue the others hounding her the moment they find out wifey is here, gaz with a hand over her belly, thinking about how better he’d treat wifey if she was swollen with his baby instead. Simon gawking silently in the corner, eyes narrowed, cock chubbing up in his pants as he stares down at wifeys swollen tits from afar, soap is a horndog, he’s got no shame in groping her ass as price huffs, he’s a good man though. Price is willing to share, as long as wifey is always taken care of :p
Summary: Satoru and Suguru are a happily married couple. Satoru is your older brother and yet, due to circumstances, you’re having an affair with Suguru behind his back. But that’s not all that’s afoot in this situation…
Disclaimer: SatoSugu X Fem!Reader. Cheating/affairs galore. Twincest.
You huffed, the chill of the air causing your breath to leave your lips in a white puff. You tapped your foot on the ground impatiently, contemplating ringing the doorbell two more times just to show the residents that they needed to hurry up. Your grip on the bag in your hand tightened, paper crinkling a bit against your palm.
You perked up once you heard footsteps approaching and the sound of the lock being undone, pushing the door open before your brother could even get a word in.
"Woah! Relax, firecracker." Satoru said, moving out of the way just in time so the door didn't smash against his face. Not that there was much risk of that happening considering his infinity.
"S-Sorry!" You said, not feeling apologetic at all, "But it's freezing cold out there! Would it have killed you to open the door faster?"
"It literally took less than ten seconds for me to come get you."
"Ten seconds too many. I texted you that I was close. Why weren't you waiting by the door?"
"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry for my blight, Princess!" Satoru mocked despite helping you take your coat off, the heat in the house slowly tampering your shivers, "Would you like me to run you a hot bath for your troubles? Or perhaps madam would prefer the finest glass of champagne to warm her up?"
"Yes and yes."
Satoru rolled his eyes as he hung your coat up, ushering you in once your shoes were off, picking up your suitcase. You looked around, humming in approval over the decor, "It's only been a month but I like what you've done with the place! Big improvement."
"Oh, don't give Satoru any of the credit now."
A third person walked out from where the kitchen was, the smell of yummy food following him. Suguru walked upto you and gave you a quick and polite side hug, "You know I did all of the work."
"Hey, it was my credit card that paid for everything." Satoru said, moving forward to poke Suguru on the cheek, "I contributed."
"And you looked good doing it." Suguru purred, pinching his husband's cheek back before leaning forward and giving it a kiss. You rolled your eyes at their instant affection, making them chuckle.
"I'll keep this in the guest room." Satoru said, gesturing to the suitcase in hand, "Suguru is almost done with preparing lunch but I still need a shower so you better not start without me."
"You got it, boss." you said with a mock salute, "...but seriously, thank you guys for letting me stay here. I promise I won't be a nuisance."
"You're family. You're never a nuisance." Suguru said, ruffling your hair but your brother had to chime in with a laugh.
"Don't speak so soon baby. Give it a few days and she'll be raiding your sweets and then blame the dog for eating it." Satoru teased to which you clicked your tongue and tried to kick him.
"That was one time you ass! And we were like five!"
"And it was still one of the funniest things I've ever experienced."
"It's barely been minutes and I'm already regretting my decision."
Suguru laughed, enjoying the sibling banter, "Satoru, stop teasing her and go take a bath."
"I'd go a lot faster if you join me~"
"You know that will only take longer."
"Ew. Yuck." You grimaced, "Not in front of me, please."
"Get used to it. It's all downhill from here." your brother teased. With a friendly shove, Satoru walked away, presumably to keep your luggage in your room before he hopped in the shower.
"How was the Kyoto branch?" Suguru asked as he led you towards the kitchen, a pot of miso soup still on the stove.
You shrugged your shoulders, a tired sigh leaving your lips. "Tough. Busy. But pretty good. Those kids have a lot of potential."
You didn't work as a teacher in Jujutsu high like your brother and Suguru but instead, you were often behind the scenes. Even though it is a school about Jujutsu sorcery, there was still a lot of legal and operational management that had to happen. You were one of the staff overseeing a lot of things but your main job was to make sure the student experience was as smooth and educational as could be.
Your job this time around was to organize the logistics of the upcoming tournament where the Kyoto and Tokyo branch will go up against each other and luckily, you had a brother who lived in Tokyo and so, you didn’t need to splurge on staying in a hotel because lord knows the school wouldn’t cover those expenses for you.
"Hey, let me know if I can help with some-mmph!"
Suguru suddenly surged forward, one hand cupping your jaw, another arm around your waist before he pulled you flush against him and kissed you. Your eyes widened as his soft lips pressed against yours, kissing you like he was trying to eat you whole. He groaned as he got to slip his tongue inside your mouth, dancing with yours in a familiar routine. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, your chest pressing against his as you made out with your brother- in-law, the sound of your lips and tongues smacking against each other echoing through the still air.
But you quickly came back to your senses, gasping against the kiss before you unwrapped your arms. You gripped his biceps, pushing him and finally, Suguru parted from you.
"Fuck- I missed you." He groaned, leaning forward to slot his face against your neck, taking in a deep breath before he plated his lips on you again. You squirmed, biting your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning as he cornered you against the counter, one hand gripping the tile while the other was still holding you.
"S-Sugu!" You gasped as he licked your neck, the man knowing how sensitive you were, "W-We talked about this! We can't- hah- we can't do this anymore..."
"You expect me to live under the same roof as you and keep my hands to myself?" he asked like you had just asked him to grab the moon, "Not a chance."
"You have to!" you scolded, whimpering as he continued to mouth at your neck, the part of you that you knew he enjoyed teasing, "You're married to my brother!"
"Come on pretty. That didn't stop us before." Suguru reminded, "Fuck. Turn around."
You scolded yourself for complying as Suguru grabbed you by the waist and made you face the counter, your hands now splayed on the marble as he pressed himself against you. It wasn't rocket science to know what the hot, hardening thing pressed up against your ass was, especially when Suguru leaned over your body, pressing himself flush against you before he started rutting his hips.
"See what you do to me?" he groaned deeply against your ear, "I wanted to pounce on you the second you walked through the door."
"S-Sugu- please-" you whimpered, so weak against his hungry, hungry desire for you, "We have to stop- Satoru will c-catch us."
"You know how loud he is when he enters a room. We'll hear him before he catches us." Suguru said with far too much confidence, "Be good for me, baby."
You felt so pathetic as your will crumbled under his words, under his touch. The guilt ate up at you but not enough to make you want to actually stop. Suguru was humping at you wildly, giving your clothed ass a few mean thrusts before he suddenly pulled away. You blinked at the loss of his warmth, almost begging him to come back but you watched as he suddenly sunk down onto his knees behind you.
Uh oh.
You shivered as his hands started to run up your leg and slide underneath your skirt, bunching up the fabric as he went up and up before he caught what he was looking for. Gripping the waistband of your panties, he started to peel it off of you, a greedy look on his face as he told you to step out of them. Your nerves were on fire, anxiety shooting through you as you made sure to pay attention in case Satoru were to walk in. The strongest sorcerer in Jujutsu history- he could easily blast away the two of you with his powers if he found out about this monumental betrayal.
Of course he wouldn't but-
"Bend over babe. Arc that back for me."
Your legs shivered as you did what you're told, pressing your chest against the cold tile but you barely registered it. Your breath felt hot as your panting only increased as Suguru pocketed your panties before he started to lift your skirt up. He pushed it up and over your ass quickly, cursing under his breath as your bare sex was exposed to him.
"There she is~" he purred, leaning forward to plant a kiss against your ass cheek, "My favorite girl."
"Just- shut up and get this over with!" you hissed, face flushing red with shame and arousal. Suguru laughed before he gave your ass a mean spank, making you gasp. "You're dripping already. Don't act like you don't want this as badly as I do."
With that, Suguru grabbed both your cheeks, squeezing them a bit before he parted them more to show off your weepy kitty. He licked his lips, hunger in his eyes as the thumb of his left hand reached down to grip at your pussy lip before he pulled that too, truly exposing every nook and cranny of your cunt.
"Perfect."
Suguru leaned forward and planted a greedy, open mouthed kiss to your cunt which instantly had your knees wobbling. You brought a fist upto your mouth and bit your knuckles as Suguru started eating you out passionately. He was always wicked with his tongue, knowing just where to lick and suck to have you whimpering.
"Mmph- fuck yes-" he panted between sloppy kisses and greedy licks, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin as he did, "Tasty little pussy- mmwah~"
You could feel the blood rush to your ears, the sound of his tongue slurping up your juices and your own panting filling your senses. You thought back to how you wound up in this situation to begin with - where you were having an affair with your own brother's husband but a suckle to your clit had your thoughts dissipating, unable to focus on anything else but his mouth on you. Your knees trembled and at some point, the table was holding you up more than your own legs.
“Mmmph, baby~” he moaned, sucking a lip into his mouth, “I can tell you- mm- missed me too. So needy for me~”
He slid his tongue inside you and you almost drew blood from how hard you were biting down on your skin. You quickly let go though as you didn’t need Satoru noticing it and asking you how you got hurt. You placed your forehead against the cold tile of the counter, body shaking as his tongue worked its way into your pulsating hole, his hands greedily grabbing at your ass cheeks. It has been a few months since you last slept with Suguru but your body clearly remembers how easy it is to submit to him.
“Fuck. I need you.” the man growled as he stood back up. You almost mewled at the loss of his mouth on you but the clink of him unbuckling his belt got you to snap your head back at him.
“Wh- here?! Now?!” you hissed, watching as he pulled his cock out and- oh lord you forgot how thick he was. You gulped down the saliva that pooled in your mouth, scolding yourself for being such a depraved whore that the situation wasn’t deterring you as much as you wanted it to.
“Yeah. I can’t wait anymore. Suguru said, one hand gripping your waist while the other held his cock steady, your brother in law moving forward so the tip of his leaky cock kissed your dripping wet entrance.
“W-We can’t!” you whined, “Satoru could be here any- oooohhh ah- ah- fuck-”
Suguru started to slide inside you and you almost saw white. Your fingers clenched uselessly against the counter, trying to grab onto something to ground you into reality. His cockhead popped in before he slowly drove more and more of himself inside you. He let go on his dick once he was in enough, opting to use that hand to gently press it over your mouth.
You cried against it, your moans muffled by his palm as he just pushed and pushed, your hole stretching to accommodate him. Eventually, his hips were pressed flush against your ass and both of you moaned simultaneously once he was balls deep.
“Oh fuck. Oh…fuck!” Suguru hissed softly, his face a beet red and his grip on you tightening, “You feel so good- I forgot how- ah- how tightly this pretty pussy hugs me.”
You couldn’t even say anything in response. All you could hope and pray for is that Satoru takes his infamous long showers and won’t be walking in on the two of you. Pushing your skirt down would have been easy enough but this- with Suguru’s cock inside you- there’s no amount of quick thinking that would save you.
Suguru pulled out a bit before pushing back in, making your eyes roll to the back of your head from the familiar sensation. Your body clearly missed him like she was welcoming back an old friend, your cunt gushing around his length. He leaned over you, pressing his front against your back so he could snuggle his head against your neck, muffling his own moans as he started rutting into you.
“Missed you.” he panted against you, hand still tight over your mouth, “Missed this. Missed us.”
You hiccuped at the obvious sound of skin slapping against skin, his heavy balls swinging and kissing your clit every time he thrust forward. You didn’t say it out loud but you missed him too. Suguru just had a dangerously intimate knowledge of your body, breaking you down with just a look if he needed to. He was daring and greedy, never one to shy away from his desires and he knew your morals were bankrupt enough to enjoy this with him.
“Are you- mmph- still on the pill?” he asked, nibbling at your ear which made your heart skip a beat. You knew you shouldn’t but you nodded, knowing full well why he asked.
“Good. Okay. Fuck.” he continued to pant against you, the two of your bodies getting in sync with each other. The riskiness of the situation only heightened the sensations and you found yourself being driven to climax, your cunt squeezing down on him tighter. Suguru could feel it too as he suddenly pulled away from you. You took a deep breath as he took his hand away from your mouth but you gasped as he suddenly grabbed your hips before he really started pounding into you.
If the noise before was suspect, the sound now was downright diabolical.
Plap Plap Plap Plap Plap Plap
Your could feel your ass rippled with each aggressive thrust forward, Suguru amping up the tempo as he fucked you silly. His cockhead kissed your cervix each time, making your eyes water from the sensation. Juices ran down one leg as he fucked you like an animal - like a man on a mission.
“Cu-Cum- gonna-” you babbled softly, drool threatening to pool out of your mouth.
“Cum for me, baby.” Suguru groaned, his dick throbbing inside you, “Cum. Cum. Cum!”
Not needing any more instruction, you came. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head as a spine tingling orgasm washed over you. Your pussy sqeeeezed around him, clenching from the force of your climax, sticky juices spurting out of you. Your fingers locked as you convulsed, using all of your energy and will power to not make a sound. You were so taken by your own orgasm that it took you a second to register the sensation of something warm pouring inside you.
Suguru bit his lower lip as he came, balls clenching as he pumped his seed inside you. He usually lasted much longer but considering the circumstances, you couldn’t really blame him. Besides, the faster he came, the safer it was for you.
“That’s it- good fucking girl!” He panted, hips pressed flush against your ass, his own body trembling from the pleasure. Once he was spent, he slowly pulled out, the sound of your pussy fighting to keep him inside making your ears burn. He popped, cock slick with cum and juices, hanging between his legs spent and satisfied. You stayed there for a second, catching your breath as the guilt slowly started to creep back in even as Suguru pushed your skirt back over your body and rightened your clothes.
“My p-panties-”
“Oh, they’re mind now, baby girl. You better tighten up and make sure you don’t drip my cum on the floor.”
You whimpered. You forgot how mean Suguru could be.
“...On your knees. Clean me up.” he whispered, before he grabbed your arm and you went along willingly, as you always did. Even in your dizzy state, you slid down to your knees and just as you opened your mouth, he slid in. You groaned at the taste, a mix of both of your juices, a trademark taste of infidelity.
“We’re going to have so much fun.” Suguru promised, petting your hair as he cleaned up his cock with your mouth, “I can’t wait~”
~~~~~
The steam seemed to follow you as you exited the bathroom, your hair wrapped in a towel. Your pajamas sat loose on your body, your skin twinged a light pink from the heat of your bath. You took extra time to wash out the cum and sweat on you, the guilt unable to be washed away along with it.
The three of you enjoyed a lovely dinner, sitting by a table that was a mere foot away from where you were bent over by your brother's husband. You laughed, chatted, gossiped and everything in between, almost forgetting what you had just done. It didn’t help that Suguru didn’t seem to hold any remorse if the way he was playing footsie with you under the table was anything to go by.
You gnawed at your lower lip as you sat down by the vanity, plugging in the blow dryer before you aimed it towards your damp hair, your mind spiraling. You couldn't believe you were doing this. Sleeping around with Suguru behind Satoru's back was the ultimate betrayal. You were doing something awful to your loved one- consciously making the decisions to fall deeper and deeper down this depraved rabbit hole. Of course, Suguru was to blame as well, but you were both guilty in this affair.
Perhaps under 'normal' circumstances you would have confessed to Satoru. Fall down to your knees and beg for his forgiveness while informing him that the man he chose to marry was a dirty pervert who held no guilt or remorse over betraying his spouse in such a monumental manner and with his husband's little sister, nevertheless.
But, despite all of that, you knew you couldn't say anything.
Because of course, the situation couldn't be as simple as that.
It was 2 AM when you woke up. You groaned, eyes tightening before you slowly started to blink them open as you started to wake up but you were confused as it was still dark out. You were about to push yourself up when you quickly noted the warm weight pressed against your body as well as the not so subtle bump underneath your blanket.
You hissed as something wet and warm swiped over your skin as you pulled the blanket up to see what or rather who was underneath it.
"Satoru, what are you doing?"
Your top was pushed up to your collarbone, leaving your breasts bare to the night air. Satoru simply hummed as he continued to lap against your hard nipple, long eyelashes tickling your skin as your other breast was gently cupped in his hand.
"Feeding. Duh."
"Your-" you hiccuped as he suddenly sealed his lips around the nipple and started to suck, gentle pressure on your sensitive buds, "Your husband is in the other room! What if he wakes up and - hah- searches for you?!"
"Why would he assume I'm here?" Satoru asks between suckles, "He has no reason to come to your room."
God you hoped that was true. If Suguru were to wake up and find that his husband wasn't in bed, chances are he'd want to sneak into your room to play with you just for the thrill. And if that were to happen, there would be truly no explaining it.
"But, in any case, I've locked the door."
You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding, body heating up as your brother suckled your boob gently, like a baby trying to feed. He was just as spoiled and bratty as he was when the two of you first started fooling around together all those years ago. And despite being a married man, it was a habit he refused to change.
“Satoru we can’t-” you huffed at the irony of the situation and that this was the second time you were having this argument, “We can’t do this anymore! You’re married and plus- we’re siblings!”
“Oh, really? I had no idea.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” you clicked your tongue, pulling on his ear as punishment, “I’m being serious! This is such a- mmph- huge betrayal.”
“Oh, come on.” Satoru said with an affectionate roll of his eyes as he used his grip on you to push your breasts together, “ You knew what you were getting yourself into. We’re going to live together for a month and did you actually believe I was going to keep my hands to myself?”
Satoru snorted at your silence, the way your mouth opened and closed pointlessly as you searched for a reply being a sufficient response for him. He shoved his face into the tight heat of your cleavage, pushing your boobs together even as he snuggled into the gab. He let out a soft brrrr sound as he motorboated you, truly indulging himself in your body.
“You have a-” you hiccuped as he pulled away from motorboating to instead run his tongue over your right nipple now, “A husband! What- the two of you aren’t fucking enough so you need your little sister?”
“Fuck- it’s so hot when you say it like that~” Satoru purred as he flicked your bud with his tongue, “Suguru’s great. I couldn’t ask for a more perfect man. But I need you too. It’s as simple as that.”
Tits still squeezed together, Satoru opened his mouth wide before taking both nipples into his mouth at once, eyelashes fluttering as he gave you a toe curling suck that had you slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from squealing.
“Sa-Satoru…this is so w-wrong…”
“We’ve known that for a long time.” he said, “Why stop now?”
You knew why. Both of you did. You were siblings. He was married. You were secretly sleeping with his husband. This situation was fucked up on every level imaginable.
But yet, when Satoru slid inside you, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest that you hadn’t felt in awhile.
Clothes strewn on the floor, the two of you embraced each other's naked forms as your older brother took you. You wrapped your arms around him, whimpering at the familiar sensation of his hot, hard cock kissing your insides. The intimacy of bare skin pressed against each other, heat and sweat combining into one. The thrill and the excitement of this tremendously taboo relationship still felt as exhilarating as the first time the two of you crossed this boundary.
Your nails dug into the skin of his back, only to immediately pull away as you couldn’t leave any marks on him. And it took you a second just as Satoru was sucking on your neck- that he couldn’t leave any marks on you either.
“N-No marks!” you hissed, shrugging your shoulders up to push him away before he left a hickey behind.
“Why not?” he asked with a lilt in his tone that made your ears burn, his bright blue eyes sparkling in innocence- a tactic he knew works on you.
Because i’m fucking your husband and he’ll obviously notice a hickey he didn’t put on me.
“I-I’m living with Suguru too now.” you said, “And I haven’t l-left the house today. He’ll figure it out if he sees a m-mark.”
“Then I'll mark you where he can’t see.” Satoru proclaimed, leaning down to kiss at the fat of your breast clearly ready to leave at least a bite mark on you but you had to push him away again.
“You can’t! We-” you hiccuped as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, “We can’t risk it. You never know what h-he might notice and-” you pulled out your own tactic as you hugged him while simultaneously locking your legs around his thrusting hips, “I don’t wanna get caught, Toru. I wanna keep doing this~”
Satoru hissed, his eyes widening and his cock throbbing inside you. He hugged you back just as tightly, two siblings locked in a naked, sweaty intimate embrace as his hips picked up the pace, pounding into you recklessly. He also could never say no to you.
“I’m so fucking happy you’re here.” he panted against your neck, balls slapping you every time he rutted forward, “I missed you. You’re mine. Only mine.”
Well, that’s not entirely true.
You continued to bite down your moans, the pleasure of making love with your brother making your mind go blank. You’d figure out this messy situation later. For now, you just wanted to get filled up for the second time today.
The two of you kissed, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced familiarity, truly connecting the two of you in all ways. His thick cock was slamming you so deliciously, the two of you knowing each other's bodies like the back of your hands.
“C-Close- I’m close.” you mewled softly against his lips, the space between you two somehow feeling too far.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” your brother cooed as he slid a hand down between your bodies to gently press the pad of his finger against your clit, “Cum all over big brothers cock?”
“Please.” you begged, hips bucking as he swiped over the bud, “I need- fuck- missed you.”
Satoru smiled, kissing your cheek, “I know baby. Big brother is here. I got you. Cum for me.”
And you did. Satoru had to kiss you and shove his tongue down your throat to prevent you from screaming the house down from the intense pleasure of your climax. He milked you through it, his strong body holding your trembling form down. He came with you, his whimpers swallowed by your own lips as the two of you crossed the line once again. He pumped you full- his balls throbbing with each load of his seed filling you up.
It was perfect. It felt perfect.
The two of you continued to stay like that even as the adrenaline died down. Lips locks in a messy makeout session of teeth and tongue- his cock still pulsing inside you as you cockwarmed him, the cum inside you heating you up from the inside- arms and legs still tangled in a big, sweaty embrace.
“Mmph. Baby.” Satoru called out breathlessly, “We’re going to have so much fun~”
~~~~~
You placed the last cup of hot coffee on the counter, your own mug nestled in your hand as you took a sip. You knew the other two would be by your side in a matter of minutes so you took the extra time to make everyone a morning cup of Joe.
Satoru snuck out of your room last night after a few minutes of cuddling and a quick jump in the shower before leaving you alone with your thoughts. Thankfully, you fell asleep almost immediately so you didn’t contemplate your situation all that much. But now, clean and with a clear mind, the guilt crashed down on you all over again.
You bit your lower lip as a warm hand gently landed on your ass, Suguru giving you a squeeze.
"...Your door was locked last night." he said softly, confirming your suspicions that he would, indeed, try to visit you.
Yeah cause your husband and my brother was with me, pounding me silly.
"Just...being cautious." you said, shivering as he ran his palm his circles over the curve of your butt, "Satoru was with me so if you show up uninvited- it would be strange, right?"
"I suppose you have a point." Suguru relented. You were surprised at how easy he took it considering you were ready to over explain a situation where Satoru might be with you to play games or watch a movie together but that surprise quickly turned into shame because of course, Suguru would never assume your brother would be in your room to have sex.
"I guess that means we keep fooling around the way we are." he concluded, giving your butt a few soft pats, making your cheek ripple a bit under your shorts, "Or think of a way to get into your bed without it being suspicious."
You shouldn't. Oh you shouldn't. This is the perfect opportunity to put a stop to everything. All you have to do is say no, that your affair needs to end and that you cannot keep betraying your brother like this.
"...I'll text you when it's safe." you say, the shame of it all building up even more inside you. Suguru grinned, and with a quick glance over his shoulder, he leaned down and kissed you. You couldn’t deny the way you melted into the kiss, your shoulders relaxing as he held you. Your gasp got swallowed by him as his free hand came up to grab your breast over your t-shirt, feeling you up shamelessly.
The two of you broke the kiss and again, Suguru looked down the hallway to make sure his husband wasn’t going to walk in before he grabbed the bottom of your shirt. You didn’t even try to fight it when Suguru pushed your shirt up to expose your bare breasts, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned down and gave them a kiss. Your nipples were still a bit sensitive from last night so when Suguru wrapped his lips around a nipple, you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stay quiet.
The shirt fell over his head, covering him up as he suckled on you. Both hands were now on your ass and he was groping you without a care in the world, suckling on your nipple like it was a casual activity.
You jumped when you heard the door to the couple’s bedroom close and you started to lightly smack Suguru. He pulled away from you, helping you righten your shirt but not before he gave your tits a final squeeze. He took a step back just as Satoru walked into the dining room.
“Good morning.” he said, voice tired and scratchy as he walked up to the kitchen area. Suguru smiled as he leaned in and the two men shared a kiss.
“You sleep okay?” Suguru asked him as he ran a hand through Satoru’s white locks, “It seems like the two of you stayed up all night.”
You blushed, hiding your face.
“We had a lot of catching up to do.” Satoru explained, “It was good but,” he yawned, “I could definitely go for more sleep.”
“Too bad. Duty calls, baby.”
“I know, I know.”
With a laugh and a kiss to his cheek, Suguru grabbed his cup of coffee, thanking you for it before he made his way to the living room. He plopped down on the couch, grabbing the remote before he turned on the TV.
You could tell the energy left behind was thick and you weren’t even surprised when Satoru embraced you, his lips immediately finding your neck as he gave you a kiss. But you pulled away and looked into his eyes.
"We need to talk about last night." you whispered.
"Still thinking about it, huh? Me too~" Satoru purred, either missing or ignoring your hurried tone even as he leaned down to give your lips a quick peck, "I've missed you, little sis~"
"No! That's not-" you hissed as he suddenly brought his hands up and squeezed your clothed tits like it was something casual, "You can't keep coming into my bedroom! Suguru will get suspicious!"
"Why?" Satoru asked as he shamelessly felt you up, “What’s wrong with a brother and sister hanging out?”
“Why would we- mmph- hang out with the door locked?” you asked, trembling as his fingers flicked over your nipples, “Besides- he’s bound to hear something. I’ll- I’ll text you when it’s safe.”
“Sure, if that makes you feel better.” he said. And then, much like his husband, he glanced over your shoulder to make sure Suguru was still engrossed in the news. With a lick of his lips, he lifted your shirt up, flashing him your tits.
You rolled your eyes as Satoru dived in, clearly driven by lust and excitement over suckling his sister's tits while his husband was close by. You couldn’t even begin to express the fact that he latched onto the same nipple Suguru did mere minutes ago, so the husbands sharing an indirect kiss on your breast.
OKAY HEAR ME OUT PARASITIC HOARD OF ZOMBIES WHO MAKE THEIR DARLING INTO A BREEDER? 🥺
-🦟
Zombie Horde Having Their Way With You
Sorry, it took me a minute to get to this! Wish it were longer! Hope you like it!
Tw: noncon, breaking in, smarter zombies, hint of somno, breeding kink, hints of a/b/o (barely)
Masterlist
The house that you barricaded yourself into is currently surrounded by a horde. They somehow know your name. They shout it, calling for you to help them. You know all too well that they are just trying to trick you into letting them in.
When that doesn't work, they bang on the doors and windows. Their shouts are more intense now, desperate to get to you. They look through the windows, trying to figure out where exactly you are.
"Let us in. We don't want to hurt you; you'll see." One says when they catch sight of you through the window. Soon, they pile on top of each other, the parasite communicating your location to the others.
The sight of you makes them more aggressive. Some fights break out in the horde. Meanwhile, others are working together, trying to break the glass.
When it finally shatters, they don't waste a minute. Before you know it, they surround you. Some of them rip off your clothes; others hold you down. All of their clothes leave them too. Some of them jerk off to the sight of you.
The one who first saw you is the first to mount you. He pushes himself into you, not giving you time to adjust. His cock rams into you, desperate for a release.
The parasite is quick to give him what he wants, but he's not done with you yet. After he dumps his parasitic cum into you, he lets the next one in line enter you. He's much bigger than the first, easily hitting your cervix with every thrust.
The first one holds your jaw open, pushing himself into your mouth. He fucks your mouth while other cocks enter and exit you. He tells you how you are doing such a great job taking them all and how you will have all of their babies forever.
When it's all finally over, you are covered in copious amounts of cum and sweat. They arrange for you to be watched at all times. The house becomes like a headquarters. They fill the rooms and halls. Outside, camps start forming because of the lack of room.
They use you almost whenever they like. You'd wake up with some of them surrounding you, a cock already in you. Your pussy grows tired from all of the action, but they won't stop. You'll be having their babies soon, spreading the parasite further.
Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, somnophilia flavored, dirty talk, objectification, obsessed yandere, slight corruption kink, small spoilers for Astarion's worst kept secret, blood, biting kink, mention of Astarion's past, gender neutral reader, neutral good reader (folk-hero type), opposites attract, spoilers for game opening, slight spoilers for possible non-combatant followers, owl-bear cub named Hootsie (if you know what this name is from, I like your taste in media), adult themes, mention of nsfw topics,
~~~~~~~~
How could this have happened to him? Of all people, Astarion was no chivalrous rube unlike the odd being he found himself following the command of. Truly, he didn't understand just how he wound up a follower to someone who put others before themselves. The damned tadpole in his brain being the only reason he would stand to be near someone so annoyingly virtuous... or so he tells himself.
Truth was, though he didn't like the mundane and menial tasks he found himself doing for the betterment of others, he did actually like the goody-two-shoes he followed the lead of. They were... hells, how to describe them?
Almost every choice was made to help someone against unfair treatment or wrongful accusations. Each decision was weighed carefully on the moral scale and done with well-being in mind in almost every way. They were one of those folk-hero types who stood up for the little guy and extended help to those in honest need.
They were infuriating and annoyingly righteous. ...They were enchanting.
Astarion found himself practically crooning over them, especially during fights. Someone able to so ruthlessly kill and command others was truly an impressive character. From the strategy and careful thinking to the quick and merciless endings, Astarion barely kept himself from swooning.
Even beyond the battlefield, he noticed little things they did that made him practically melt. Those small habits and unconscious behaviors that they had making him smile ever so slightly whenever he noticed them. He wasn't staring or obsessing, mind you, just... observing.
What truly surprised him was what happened when he decided to push his luck and try to feed on them and their delectable blood. Despite how quietly he had approached them, they woke up right as he was going to sink his fangs into their neck. Even though he knew he was likely about to be slain, he still tried to stand up for himself and justify his actions. Much to his surprise and genuine delight, the defacto leader did not stake him in the heart, choosing instead to speak with that same calm timbre and hear him out.
It was then they did something he swore would have made his heart flutter if it still had a beat. They told him that he was welcome to feed on their blood- within reason- and asked him to feed from them whenever he felt the thirst coming on too strongly. It was a kindness he had never expected from someone, and he agreed that feeding on (y/n) was better than trying to feed on any of the other companions they traveled with.
Since then, Astarion would feed on animals or enemies mostly, but always kept enough room in his stomach to feed on (y/n) at night. Something about their blood made him shiver in delight and the taste drove him to crave more and more. It was as if his dear (y/n)'s blood called to him and crooned sweet nothings into his mind.
He would never take more than offered, of course, but there were evenings where he was quite tempted to take more. Not more blood, but more of (y/n).
Sex was a good way to burn off steam and was good enough with almost anyone, but the thought of passionate sex with (y/n)... oh, it was simply delicious. He had propositioned once or twice, but the subtlety in how he asked seemed to make the true meaning of his words go right past them. They either didn't reciprocate or truly did not understand the delicate way he approached the matter and so thought he was talking about something else. He knew he would have to be more straightforward with them in the future about his desire for their blood and body, but for now he would satisfy himself however he could.
It was late in the evening and the others were fast asleep as he approached his beloved on silent feet. Their faithful dog- Scratch- and the aptly named owl-bear cub Hootsie were snoozing back to back on the other side of the camp, so they shouldn't interrupt him.
As Astarion leaned over the kindly ally, he couldn't help but reach up to slowly trail his fingers over their soft cheek. They looked absolutely scrumptious laying there with an unbothered expression, their breathing soft and quiet. Though he was thirsty and quite ready for a drink, he held himself back in favor of marveling over his precious little hero.
To think, some morally-righteous nobody had entangled his unbeating heart and enamored him so much he even considered charity. Charity for Hells sakes!
A soft whine escapes their lips as he slowly turned their head to the side, feeling a sense of pride when he saw the two puncture marks on the side of their neck where he fed from them regularly. Their blood was so pure and sweet, he could barely get by with the few tastes he would take every evening. Perhaps he had their heroic tendencies to thank for the extremely pure blood that he enjoyed feasting on.
He found himself so protective of their blood that any time they got hurt in battle, he could feel the rage pull at his mind and begin to consume him. As far as Astarion was concerned, all of (Y/n)'s blood belonged to him. Even one drop wasted was a drop he could have had, and the thought of their blood being so casually wasted like that... it set a fury in him.
Of course, after the battle he always offered to lick their wounds, but they seemed to think he was joking and laughed it off. What he wouldn't give to have them say 'yes' to his proposition and simply let him love on their wounds while going down on them.
Even at that moment, the warm scent of their body made bliss run through him as he decided to risk getting caught. He slowly moved their clothing so he could marvel at the exposed flesh of their stomach. With a light touch, he made sure to gently drag his tongue over their front, groaning to himself in response to their appetizing taste. All he wanted was to ravage them as they lay there and take it from him, but he still had plenty of self restraint.
"What I wouldn't give to cover you up in bites, Darling."
Astarion decided to stop pushing his luck when his thirst tugged at his self-control impatiently. He could always go back to helping himself after he got a drink from his favorite source.
Even though he had bitten them countless times over, he still felt a certain chill run through him at being able to sink his fangs in once more. The warm splash of blood against his tongue made an almost pathetic whimper escape his throat, greedily drinking down the flavorful ambrosia. All too soon, he had to pull away and staunch his desire for more until the next time he got to feed on his beloved.
"Don't worry, Dearest. I will make damn sure you can never get away from me no matter what. Then we can embrace as long as we wish. I'll rip the others to shreds for you, love. You'll never get to leave me."
