namjoon's younger sister has been beside bts since their trainee days. everyone treats her like family. everyone except jungkook, because somewhere between endless bickering, shared beds after exhausting schedules, hidden midnight conversations... things stopped feeling platonic. unfortunately for them, the internet notices first.
pairing: idol!jungkook x y/n warning/genre: fluff | friends to lovers | slow burn | idol!au | clingy jungkook | reader&jungkook are annoying asf| they are very intimate
Officially the last chapter of In Plain Sight. Thank you to everyone who showed this fanfic love and support.
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆𓂃🖊
Chapter14
Jungkook and Y/N didn’t go home that night.
Mostly because the paparazzis were still lurking around the city, and they were exhausted, and neither of them really wanted the night to end yet.
So when Jungkook spotted a tiny motel near the countryside road, he immediately pulled over.
The building looked old. Not creepy old. Just forgotten.
Made mostly of wood with warm yellow lights glowing softly near the entrance. There were flower pots near the front desk window and an old neon sign flickering weakly above the building.
Small and quiet. Hidden away from the world. Perfect.
⸻
“This looks like the setting of a horror movie,” Y/N muttered immediately while staring at it.
Jungkook laughed. “You say that about everything.”
“Because everything looks haunted at night.”
Thankfully there weren’t many people around.
A sleepy older woman checked them in without even recognizing them properly, which honestly felt like a blessing.
Their room was small. A queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room. A wooden cupboard stood near the wall. In the corner sat a tiny two seater sofa beside an old table lamp. And the window, the window overlooked a peaceful paddy field glowing softly beneath moonlight.
It was beautiful.
The kind of beautiful that felt quiet.
Y/N immediately took pictures.
“This is so aesthetic.”
Jungkook watched her fondly.
“You’re cute.”
“Don’t flirt with me while I’m documenting our survival.”
Before anything else, Y/N texted Namjoon.
‘not coming home tonight!! don’t worry 😭’
The call came approximately four seconds later.
Y/N sighed. “See? I told you.”
Jungkook laid dramatically across the bed already. “He loves us.”
“He’s about to kill us.”
Y/N answered immediately.
“Hi Joon.”
“Location.”
“No hello?”
“Location.”
She laughed softly while giving him details about the motel, nearby area, and Jungkook’s bike route while Namjoon apparently wrote everything down somewhere.
“Are the doors locked.”
“Yes.”
“Do they have cameras outside.”
“I think so?”
“Send me pictures.”
“Kim Namjoon.”
“I’m serious.”
Y/N smiled helplessly. Because despite all his complaining Namjoon still worried about them constantly.
Eventually the call ended with:
“Be careful. And Jungkook better not do anything stupid.”
From the bed Jungkook yelled loudly, “NO PROMISES.”
Namjoon hung up immediately.
⸻
The night somehow became even more chaotic afterward. At first they pillow fought for nearly twenty minutes.
Which mostly consisted of Jungkook cheating, Y/N screaming, and both of them laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe properly.
Then afterward they sat beside the window together looking out toward the dark fields outside. The atmosphere became calmer.
Until somehow,
Jungkook started telling scary stories.
Worst mistake possible.
“It is based in a true story, like imagine if someone was standing out there right now,” Jungkook whispered dramatically while pointing outside the window.
Y/N immediately grabbed his arm.
“Stop.”
“And they slowly looked up toward the room—”
“JEON.”
“—and then started crawling toward—”
“Okay we’re leaving. We’re going home. I knew this place was haunted.”
Jungkook collapsed laughing instantly.
“You’re so easy.”
“This motel literally looks cursed.”
“If a ghost comes I’ll protect you.” Then this idiot flexed his arm proudly. Y/N stared at him in disbelief before laughing helplessly instead.
And somehow, just like that the fear disappeared again.
⸻
Eventually they climbed onto the bed. Or attempted to.
Jungkook suddenly paused. “…you know how many people probably peed on this bed.”
Y/N gagged immediately.
“Oh my God.”
“And what if they didn’t clean it properly.”
“YEAH I’M NOT SLEEPING TONIGHT.”
Jungkook laughed so hard he nearly fell backward.
“You can sleep on top of me instead.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on. It’s just one night.” He patted the space beside him dramatically.
“Besides, we’re not exactly clean either. You literally have grass and dirt on your jeans from the lakeside.”
Y/N looked down. She sighed deeply.
“…fine. But we’re sleeping on TOP of the blanket.”
“Whatever pleases you, my love.”
The stupid smile on his face made her roll her eyes immediately.
Y/N laid beside him carefully. And before she could even get comfortable Jungkook instantly pulled her against him.
Arms wrapping tightly around her waist. Her head resting naturally against his chest.
Warm and comfortable. Safe.
Y/N shifted slightly at first. Then melted into him completely.
For a while they simply laid there quietly. Listening to distant crickets outside. The soft sound of wind against the windows.
Then suddenly,
“I wonder how many people have fuc—”
“JEON JUNGKOOK.” She smacked his chest immediately before he could finish.
Jungkook giggled like an actual menace.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
Unfortunately true.
⸻
The night softened after that. They talked quietly beneath dim yellow lights for hours.
About the past. About the day they first met.
“How old were you again?”
“Fourteen.”
“And shy.”
“I was NOT shy.”
“You literally avoided eye contact for three months.”
Jungkook grumbled into her hair while Y/N laughed quietly.
Then they talked about the future.
Upcoming schedules. The tour. Traveling together.
And eventually, building a family someday.
The conversation made Y/N’s chest ache warmly. Because somehow imagining a future with Jungkook felt terrifyingly easy.
⸻
Later, when the room grew quieter and sleepier, Y/N poked his chest gently.
“You scared me earlier.”
“With the ghost story?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So now you have to sing me to sleep.”
Jungkook smiled instantly. “Bossy.”
“Your fault.”
And because it was her,
he did.
He sang to her softly, his voice vibrated gently against her cheek where she rested on his chest.
Warm.
Comforting.
The kind of comfort only Jungkook could give her. Sometimes between songs he whispered tiny, “I love you.”
Each one made her heart flutter embarrassingly hard. “I love you too, Jeon,” she whispered sleepily eventually.
Jungkook’s entire expression softened immediately. Then gently he kissed the top of her head. “I love you more.”
And sometime after that, they both drifted asleep tangled together beneath countryside moonlight.
⸻
The next morning chaos returned immediately.
Of course because peace never lasted long in their lives.
The moment they entered the house everyone looked up. Then immediately started screaming.
“THE LOVEBIRDS RETURN.”
“LOOK WHO DECIDED TO COME HOME.”
“DID YOU SURVIVE.”
“WE THOUGHT YOU DIED.”
Then Seokjin suddenly narrowed his eyes.
Unfortunately, Seokjin’s attention had landed on Y/N’s collarbone.
Specifically the faint red mark barely peeking through where her oversized shirt slipped slightly off her shoulder.
“You guys used protection right?”
The room froze completely. Silence. All eyes staring at him.
“WHAT. I’m being responsible,” Seokjin defended immediately. “It’s called good parenting.”
Everyone’s eyes slowly shifted toward the mark.
Then toward Jungkook. Then back toward Y/N.
Who looked seconds away from passing out.
“We didn’t— I mean—No. Nothing happened.”
Which somehow sounded even more suspicious.
“The mosquito there must be huge,” Yoongi muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear. Y/N turned bright red instantly. Meanwhile Jungkook looked thoughtful.
“…I don’t remember turning into a mosquito.”
Y/N elbowed him violently.
“OW. What?”
He was trying way too hard not to laugh.
Namjoon gulped down water like he was spiritually suffering.
Meanwhile Jungkook looked devastatingly pleased with the chaos he caused.
⸻
Later that night the house slowly quieted down.
Jin, Hoseok and Jimin have left
Lights switched off.
Voices faded softer.
Jungkook and Y/N sat on the sofa at the balcony together quietly. The city lights glowed below them while cold night air brushed softly against their skin.
Y/N rested comfortably against Jungkook’s chest beneath a blanket, his arms wrapped around her securely.
For a while neither spoke. Just listening to each other breathe.
Then quietly,
“Do you ever think about how weird this all is?”
Jungkook hummed sleepily above her.
“What part.”
“The fact that we went from fighting over ramen to this.”
A soft laugh rumbled in his chest.
“We still fight over ramen.”
“True.”
Silence settled again afterward. Peaceful silence. The kind that only exists between people who know each other completely.
“I’m glad it was you.” Jungkook speak.
Y/N tilted her head slightly. “What.”
Jungkook looked down at her. And there it was again.
That look.
The one that had followed her through years without either of them understanding it properly.
Soft.
Certain.
Completely in love.
“All of this,” he murmured. “I’m glad it was you.”
Her chest hurt instantly. Because somehow after everything, after years of chaos and friendship and love and growing up together, he still managed to say things that made her heart feel too full for her body.
Y/N smiled faintly.
“You’re being emotional.”
“I learned from Namjoon.”
“Liar.”
Jungkook pressed a soft kiss against her forehead.
Then another against her temple.
And another because apparently one was never enough anymore.
From inside the house suddenly came Taehyung’s scream,
“ARE YOU GUYS MAKING OUT WITHOUT ME AGAIN?”
Jungkook closed his eyes in suffering.
“Why is he like this.”
The balcony door slid open suddenly. Namjoon appeared holding water. He looked between them once.
Then sighed deeply. “You know,” he said tiredly, “I used to pray Jungkook would stop following my sister around.”
Jungkook looked offended immediately.
“I did not follow her around.”
“You literally cried when you were nineteen because she left for two days.”
“That was DIFFERENT.”
Y/N burst into laughter instantly. Namjoon shook his head slowly. “But I guess…” he continued quieter now. “…if it had to be anyone.”
His eyes shifted toward Jungkook briefly.
Softening.
“I’m glad it was you.”
The world went quiet for a second. Because Namjoon rarely said things like that aloud.
And Jungkook,
who spent years looking up to him,
years becoming family beside him actually looked emotional.
“…hyung.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
Too late honestly.
______
The ride to the award show was already chaotic before they even left the building. Mostly because Jungkook suddenly decided “Y/N sit on my lap.”
Immediate outrage erupted.
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“There are empty seats RIGHT THERE.”
But unfortunately for everyone Jungkook always got his way somehow.
⸻
The van was large enough for all of them, seats lining both sides facing each other while staff moved around outside preparing everything. Y/N looked at the empty seat beside Jungkook. Then at Jungkook himself.
Then sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“Come here.”
And somehow five minutes later she sat comfortably sideways on his lap while the others looked spiritually exhausted already.
As the van finally began moving, Y/N pulled out papers from her bag.
“Okay focus. Let’s practice the speech one more time.”
Immediately everyone groaned dramatically.
“Again?”
“We already practiced.”
“And Namjoon still sounds like a disappointed history teacher,” Y/N replied.
Namjoon looked offended.
“I speak very well.”
“You sound like you’re announcing the fall of civilization.”
Y/N began reading through the speech aloud carefully. Occasionally stopping to rewrite awkward phrases or add more emotion to parts that sounded too robotic.
“No, this part sounds empty,” she said while scribbling something down. “Try saying it more naturally.”
Seokjin leaned forward “Like this?”
He re read the sentence dramatically.
Y/N nodded proudly.
“See? Much better.”
Everything would’ve gone smoothly.
Except Jungkook apparently decided he needed affection every ten seconds. At first it was just a kiss against her shoulder.
Tiny.
Distracting.
Y/N ignored it.
Then another against her neck.
Then her jaw.
Then her cheek.
“Jungkook,” she laughed quietly while trying to continue reading.
“Mhm.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re cute when you work.”
And then kissed the side of her nose.
Jimin stared out the window dramatically.
“I feel so single.”
“So do we.” Hoseok sighed
“Do we also have to kiss in between the speech?” Seokjin joked.
Silence. Nobody laughed.
“…tough crowd.”
Meanwhile Taehyung looked physically exhausted.
“My least favorite couple.”
“You say that every day,” Y/N laughed.
She tried continuing again.
“Okay.” She cleared her throat. “‘We want to thank ARMYs for always supporting—’”
Jungkook kissed her collarbone.
She squealed immediately.
“JEON.”
“What? I’m motivating you.”
“That’s not motivation.”
⸻
Namjoon finally looked up from his phone with the exhausted expression of a father of twelve.
“Jungkook.”
“Mhm?”
“Behave”
Jungkook nodded obediently.
Five seconds later he kissed Y/N’s cheek again. Namjoon closed his eyes slowly.
“Y/N continue reading.”
“I’m TRYING.”
“You’re giggling too much.”
“Because your son keeps attacking me.”
“I’m not claiming him right now.”
⸻
Y/N attempted reading again.
“ ‘Your love gives us strength and comfort—’ ”
Another kiss.
This time directly beside her ear.
Y/N physically folded into Jungkook laughing helplessly.
“Don’t .”
“You smell nice.”
“JUNGKOOK.”
“I’m being honest.”
Taehyung looked toward the ceiling.
“God please separate them for one business day.”
Finally Namjoon snapped.
“Okay. That’s enough.” The leader pointed directly at them with deep disappointment.
“Both of you stop touching and kissing or one of you is sitting in the trunk. I swear to God.”
Silence.
Then Y/N and Jungkook burst into laughter. Even Jungkook physically hid his face against her shoulder while laughing.
Thankfully they calmed down afterward.
Mostly.
Jungkook still kept one arm wrapped tightly around Y/N’s waist while she finished helping everyone practice.
And every once in a while he’d quietly press a tiny kiss against her shoulder when nobody looked. Like he physically couldn’t help himself anymore.
Nobody was even surprised now.
Because after years of orbiting around each other Jungkook and Y/N had finally become exactly what everyone secretly knew they would be all along.
______
At some point, everyone realized something horrifying. Jeon Jungkook spoiled his girlfriend ridiculously.
Not sometimes. Constantly.
Like it had become his full time career.
It started with small things. Tiny habits people barely noticed at first.
Always carrying Y/N’s bag, opening bottles for her automatically, holding her hand in public places, carrying her around the house, making sure she ate first before touching his own food.
Little things.
But over time, people started noticing how consistent it was.
During interviews, Jungkook always made sure Y/N had water beside her.
At night, he would sing her to sleep or pepper her with kisses until she’s deep in sleep.
At airports, he instinctively walked slightly ahead of her through crowds, turning back every few seconds to check if she was okay.
At award shows, he fixed her heels when the straps loosened once. Actually crouched down in front of cameras to fix them.
The internet never recovered.
Then there were the gifts.
God.
The gifts.
“Where did this bracelet come from?” Hoseok asked one day while Y/N sat beside him backstage holding up a gold cartier bracelet.
Y/N looked down casually.
“Oh, Jungkook got it for me.”
“Yesterday?”
“No.”
“This morning.”
Taehyung looked horrified.
“HE BUYS YOU JEWELRY BEFORE BREAKFAST?”
Jungkook genuinely confused by their reactions.
“What’s wrong with that?”
⸻
And somehow, the more Jungkook loved Y/N publicly, the softer he became. He looked at her like she’s a goddess sent from heaven. Like every small thing she did deserved attention.
One time during a livestream, Y/N casually mentioned craving strawberries.
The next day, Jungkook arrived home with fresh strawberries, strawberry milk, strawberry cake, chocolate covered strawberries, strawberry ice cream.
Namjoon stared at the kitchen table in disbelief.
“She said craving, not opening a strawberry business.”
⸻
The fans noticed a lot,
Because no matter where they were, whether in public, on camera, or surrounded by people, Jungkook always treated Y/N gently.
Carefully.
Like she was something precious.
There were countless viral moments.
Jungkook tying Y/N’s shoelaces because she complained she was tired. Jungkook warming her hands between his during winter schedules. Jungkook carrying her heels after an event because “her feet hurt.” Jungkook feeding her first automatically before himself. Jungkook buying her random flowers simply because, “they reminded me of you.” Jungkook cooking for her. Jungkook buying her everything she think is ‘nice’. Jungkook whispering, “You look beautiful.” or “I love you.” every minute of the day.
And the worst or maybe the best part is that he did all of it naturally.
Without trying to show off.
Which somehow made it even more romantic.
⸻
One night while Taehyung was scrolling through his phone, he suddenly gasped. “Omg Jungkkok you’re famous .”
Jungkook looked over immediately.
“What.”
“You went viral again.”
“What did I do this time.”
Taehyung turned the screen toward him.
JEON JUNGKOOK REALLY DOES KNOW HOW TO TREAT HIS WOMAN
The article contain Jungkook and Y/N’s relationship and how they build up their relationship, how Jungkook treat her.
Jungkook blinked.Then snorted.
The article also consist ofdozens of photos.
Photos of him holding umbrellas over Y/N, carrying her bags, fixing her hair, staring at her with ridiculous heart eyes, wrapping his jacket around her shoulders, waiting patiently while she shopped, kissing her forehead absentmindedly.
The caption read:
“At this point he treats her like she personally descended from heaven.”
Taehyung had apparently reposted the article already with:
“disgusting behavior honestly”
Beside Y/N, Jungkook simply wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him lazily.
“You really do spoil me too much.” Y/N say looking at him
“That’s impossible and even if it was it’s because I am obsessed with you.”
He said it so casually. So easily.
Y/N stared at him for a second before laughing quietly.
“You say that so casually.”
“Because it’s true.”
______
Y/N stood in the kitchen half asleep, pouring herself water while the city lights glowed faintly outside the windows.
She stare at her fridge, the front door filled with decorative magnets and pictures beneath them.
Pictures from years ago, when they were living together in a small dorm they barely fit, pictures from the night of their first award, pictures from their first world tour, pictures from last week. It made her smile a little, every moments, every memory coming back to her.
Then she heard footsteps.
She didn’t even need to look up.
“Can’t sleep?” Jungkook murmured softly.
Y/N smiled tiredly.
“Kind of.”
Jungkook walked toward her slowly, hair messy from sleep,his shirt hanging loosely over gray sweatpants. His eyes drifted towards where Y/N was staring, then a small smile tugged on his lip.
Without saying anything, Jungkook opened his arms slightly.
And automatically Y/N stepped into them.
His arms wrapped around her shoulder immediately while her cheek rested against his chest, softly caressing her hair.
Neither of them spoke for a while. They simply stood there together in the quiet kitchen while the rest of the world slept peacefully around them.
Y/N sigh relaxing her shoulders and melting into the hug. Jungkook smell of fabric softner, his perfume and a warm comforting scent Jungkook always had that she can’t name.
A sleepy smile spread across Jungkook’s face. Then he pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head.
Y/N tilted her head upward seeking another one. Jungkook gave it to her immediately.
After all these years, loving each other had become instinct.
Sometimes love isn’t sudden. Sometimes it grows quietly over years, hidden inside shared hoodies, sleepy conversations, tangled legs, stolen touches, and the feeling of always reaching for the same person first. And maybe that’s why it felt so inevitable, because from the very beginning,
Jeon Jungkook and Kim Y/N had already been each other’s home.
-The End
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A/N: I am in tears because im so sad this is ending. My first ever fanfic and you guys showed me so much support🥺. I know the ending is not something very special but I hope you all enjoyed it🤍.
Also someone ask if I was planning on writing an Epilogue of this fanfic, maybe their wedding day. I think it’s cute asf, idk what do you guys think? Should i write it?
Could you write a story where the reader is Dean's daughter, they've known each other for 2-3 years, and they live together in the bunker with Sam and Dean? (The reader doesn't call Dean "father"). One day, a vengeful creature (vampire, demon, etc.) captures the reader and Dean. Dean is worried about the reader, but thinks they won't bother her because they don't know she's his daughter. However, the creature that captured them knows the reader is Dean's daughter.In front of Dean, he flirts with the reader, stroking their hair and shoulders. (Please don't write if this part bothers you.) Afterwards, he hurt her, and when the reader is exhausted from blood loss, Dean tries to keep her awake, and they have an emotional father-daughter conversation, and the reader begins to call Dean "Dad." Sam asks Cas for help to find them, and they rescue them.
╰┈➤ What You Are To Me
Dean Winchester x daughter!reader
Sam Winchester x niece!reader
Summary: You and Dean got kidnapped by a vampire who had it out for Dean since he killed the vampire's nest. So in return, the vampire started hurting you, which led you to say sweet things to your dad.
Warnings: torture/kidnapping/blood/mentions of death/non-consensual touching
The bunker smelled like coffee and gun oil, which, after two and a half years, meant home.
You'd learned that slowly — the way most true things are learned. Not in a single moment of revelation but in the accumulation of small ones. The first time Dean saved a plate of food for you without being asked. The first time Sam proofread one of your research notes and left encouraging margin scribbles in blue pen. The first time you fell asleep on the library couch and woke up with a blanket tucked around your shoulders that hadn't been there before.
You'd come to them broken in the specific way that hunters' kids often are — half-feral, over-skilled, and deeply suspicious of anything that looked like warmth. Your mother had died by a demon. Same old story, different mouth. Dean had tracked you down through a contact of a contact of Bobby Singer's ghost, and the first conversation you'd ever had with your biological father had taken place in a parking lot outside a Tulsa diner, both of you leaning against his Impala with your arms crossed, sizing each other up like two cats who'd been shoved into the same carrier.
He hadn't asked you to call him Dad.
You hadn't offered.
Two and a half years later, that hadn't changed — but everything else had. You called him Dean, and he called you "kid" even though you were 22, and it meant something neither of you had ever put into words because putting things into words wasn't really the Winchester way.
Still. When he laughed at one of your terrible jokes at the breakfast table, or when he let you pick the music in the car without argument, or when he stood in your doorway after a bad hunt with two beers and a look on his face that asked are you okay in a language that had no letters — you felt it. Whatever it was.
Tonight, though, you weren't in the bunker.
⛧
The warehouse smelled like rust and something older. Rot, maybe, or the particular damp that accumulates in buildings that have forgotten what sunlight is for.
You'd been chained to a support beam since approximately ten at night. It was now, based on the blue-grey quality of the light filtering through the high, broken windows, somewhere past three in the morning.
Dean was chained to a beam about 12 feet away. You could see him clearly — the warehouse was lit by industrial work lights that one of the vampires had strung up with what seemed like genuine enthusiasm for atmosphere. He was watching you. He'd been watching you since they'd dragged you both in here, his jaw set and his eyes doing that thing they did when he was running calculations, cycling through options, refusing to stop.
Eight vampires. That was what you'd both counted before the situation had evolved from "bad" to "significantly worse." You'd been tracking a nest for three days, following a string of bodies through two counties, and you'd been close — genuinely close — when you'd walked into what turned out to be an extremely competent ambush.
The vampire in charge was named Marcus, which you felt was an aggressively normal name for something that had been dismembering people in rural Kansas. He was tall, pale-haired, with the kind of deliberate stillness that old vampires had, that false serenity that was really just predator confidence wearing a human mask.
He walked toward you now, hands clasped behind his back, and you felt Dean's attention sharpen across the room like a physical thing.
"Comfortable?" Marcus asked.
"Living my best life," you said.
He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes, which were the color of old ice. "You know, I've been watching you for some time. Since before you knew I existed." He crouched to your eye level with that boneless, inhuman grace. "You're very good. Better than most hunters your age."
"Flattery," you said, "won't keep your head attached."
He laughed — a genuine sound, which was somehow more unsettling than a fake one. Then he reached out and touched your hair.
Across the room, you heard the chains go taut.
Marcus turned his head just slightly in Dean's direction, acknowledging the sound, and then turned back to you. Unhurried. Making a point. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with the careful deliberateness of someone who understood exactly what kind of psychological weapon he was wielding.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said softly, trying to seem intimate. "I'm not going to kill you. Not tonight."
"Great," you said. Your voice came out steady, which you were proud of. "My schedule's pretty packed anyway."
His hand moved to your shoulder, fingertips resting just above the collarbone, and he tilted his head slightly — the gesture of someone listening for a heartbeat, which he probably was.
"Let her alone." Dean's voice came out flat and controlled and absolute. "Whatever you want, you want it from me. Leave her out of it."
Marcus stood, slowly, and looked across at Dean with an expression of polite interest. "Is that so."
"She's nobody. She's a hunter we teamed up with three days ago. I don't even know her last name." Dean's voice didn't change. It was one of his better performances, you thought distantly. Convincing. Earnest. "You want leverage, you don't have it. Let her go."
Marcus was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said: "Her last name is Winchester."
The silence that followed that had a particular quality.
"I've been hunting hunters for a very long time," Marcus continued, beginning to walk a slow circuit of the room, hands re-clasped behind his back. "I find it pays to do thorough research. I know who you are. I know who your brother is. And I know —" he paused, glancing back at you, "— exactly who she is. Remarkable, really. You hid her quite well for a while. But nothing stays hidden."
You looked at Dean.
His face had gone through several things in rapid succession — the mask fracturing, something raw appearing underneath, and then the mask coming back down, harder this time. His eyes met yours, and for just a second they said I'm sorry in that language with no letters.
"So," Marcus said pleasantly. "I think we'll be here for a while."
It got worse after that.
Not immediately. Marcus was patient, methodical, and clearly enjoying himself. He had the theatrical quality of someone who'd had centuries to develop hobbies. For the first hour or so he simply talked — about the hunters he'd known, the ones he'd killed, the specific algebra of revenge that had brought him to this warehouse, this night. Apparently a hunter named Reyes had worked jobs with Dean three years back, and had taken out half his nest eighteen months ago, and that was enough for Marcus to have decided that Dean Winchester owed a debt.
You listened because there was nothing else to do, and because hunters who listen stay alive longer.
Around four in the morning, Marcus's patience reached its natural limit.
He dismissed his vampires with a single gesture — they filed out through a side door, efficient and silent — and then there were only three of you in the warehouse, and the quality of the air changed. Marcus walked to a folding table in the corner that you hadn't paid enough attention to before, and when he turned back around he was holding a knife with the casual ease of someone who has been holding knives for a very long time.
He came to you first.
You'd known he would. You'd seen it in the way Dean watched him, the way Dean's entire body had been oriented toward you even when Marcus was speaking to him, the terrible helpless vigilance of it. You'd known and there was nothing to be done about knowing.
Marcus crouched in front of you, resting his forearms on his knees, the knife held loosely. He studied your face for a moment with the patient interest of an entomologist with a new specimen.
"You have his eyes," he said. "I noticed that earlier. Same shape. Same color." He tilted his head. "I wonder if you'll have his threshold for pain as well."
"Probably higher," you said. "I haven't spent thirty years making terrible life choices."
His mouth curved. "Let's find out."
You'd been trained for this. Conceptually. Sam had walked you through resistance protocols two years ago at the kitchen table, over coffee, with the same tone he used for everything — thorough, a little professorial, relentlessly practical. The goal is not to feel nothing. The goal is to stay present. Breathe. Count. Locate yourself in the room.
Breathe. Count. Locate yourself.
The first cut was shallow — more information than injury, Marcus learning the geography of your reactions. You absorbed it with your teeth pressed together and your eyes fixed on the middle distance.
"Interesting," Marcus said. "You pull inward. Dean, I recall, goes outward — he gets loud. Combative. You go quiet." He considered you. "Hunters' children are always the most fascinating. You've been braced for pain your entire life. It changes the architecture of how you receive it."
"Are you going to monologue the whole time?" you asked. "Because I want to know what I'm in for, scheduling-wise."
He laughed. Genuine, again. "I like you," he said. "I want you to know that. This isn't personal."
"Super comforting."
"It's not meant to be comforting. It's meant to be honest." He stood, moving behind you, and you couldn't track him anymore, which was worse. His voice came from just over your right shoulder. "You're a tool. A very useful one. Your father — and he is your father, whatever your arrangement is, whatever word you've agreed not to use — loves you in the particular way that men like him love things. Like they're made of glass. Like losing them would be the one thing that finally broke him." A pause. "That's a very powerful lever."
Across the room: "Marcus." Dean's voice was controlled in a way that contained the opposite of control. "This is between you and me. Whatever Reyes did, whatever you think I owe — this is between you and me."
"Almost everything interesting," Marcus said pleasantly, "involves more than two people."
The second cut wasn't shallow.
You heard yourself make a sound before you'd decided to make it — involuntary, sharp, swallowed almost immediately but not quite in time. You breathed through your nose. You counted the bolts on the beam across from you. Six bolts. Six bolts, and the light from the work lamp made them throw small shadows.
"Y/n." Dean's voice came in low and immediate. "Look at me. Eyes on me."
You found him. He was leaning forward as far as the chains allowed, his jaw hard, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that was trying to hand you something — steadiness, maybe, or just the reminder that you weren't alone in the room.
"There you go," he said. "Stay with me."
"This is very sweet," Marcus observed, from behind you. "It genuinely is. I mean that without irony." He moved back around into your field of vision, studying the effect of his work with professional attention. "Does she know, Dean, how long you looked for her mother? After. I did my research thoroughly — I know the shape of this story. I know what she cost you and what you thought you'd lost."
"Don't," Dean said. The word came out quiet, which on Dean meant something different than it means on most people.
"You carried her before you knew her name," Marcus continued, speaking to Dean but watching you, reading your face the way hunters read landscapes for sign. "And she —" he looked at you with something almost like respect, "— came to you half-built and sharp-edged and furious, I'd imagine. And you didn't flinch."
"You don't know anything about it," you said.
"No," he agreed. "But I know the result." He crouched to your eye level again. "Which is that it's going to be very educational, for him, watching this."
The third time, he was deliberate about the angle. About making sure Dean had a clear line of sight.
The sound you made then was not a small sound. You were not proud of it, but it was not something that pride had any meaningful authority over.
"Stop." Dean's voice cracked open on the word. The chains rang against the beam — a short violent sound. "Stop. Marcus, I'm telling you — "
"What are you telling me?" Marcus asked, without urgency. He wasn't even looking at Dean. He was watching you the way you watched a fire — with the particular attention of someone who finds the process itself interesting. "What leverage do you have, exactly? What are you offering?"
"Whatever you want." The performance was entirely gone now. Every careful layer of it, stripped clean. "Name it. I'm serious. Name it and it's done, just — stop. Please."
The word please in Dean Winchester's mouth, you thought distantly, must have cost something enormous.
Marcus considered. Then, with the air of someone deciding to pause a film they're enjoying: "All right." He stood. "Let's take a breath."
He walked away toward the table and you sagged against the beam, your head dropping forward, breathing in the shallow rapid way that your body had decided was appropriate for current conditions.
"Hey." Dean's voice, immediately, low and urgent. "Hey. I need you to talk to me. What's your name."
"You know my name." Your voice was scraped thin.
"Humor me."
"Y/n. My name is Y/n." You lifted your head. "I'm okay."
"Don't do that."
"I'm here," you amended. "I'm present."
"Yeah." He exhaled slowly. "Yeah, I see you. You're doing good, you hear me? You're doing good."
"High bar," you managed.
"You cleared it. Keep clearing it."
Marcus had poured himself a glass of something from a bottle on the table — wine, absurdly, a stemmed glass and everything, with the unself-conscious ease of someone for whom apocalyptic scenes are a normal dining context. He turned back around, swirling the glass, and regarded you both with an expression of settled satisfaction.
"Your daughter," he said to Dean, "has a very high pain threshold."
"She's not—" Dean stopped. Recalculated. The cover was already blown, had been blown for hours; maintaining it now served nothing except Marcus's entertainment. "Yeah," he said instead, quietly. "She does."
"She doesn't ask for help easily either," Marcus observed. "I wonder where she learned that."
He set the glass down and picked up the knife again.
Your stomach dropped, but you kept your face still. You were getting better at the still face. You were learning it in real time.
"Round two," Marcus said pleasantly. "Let's see what else we learn."
He was in front of you before he'd seemed to move — that vampire speed, always slightly nauseating to witness from the receiving end — and Dean was already talking, already trying to bargain and threaten and beg with whatever currency he had left, and you focused on his voice instead of what was happening because it was the only anchor available.
"—you want a fight, come over here and have one, come on, don't—don't—"
"Dean," you said, between your teeth, when Marcus paused.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here."
"Tell me something."
A beat. Then, understanding: "Tell you what?"
"Anything." You needed his voice. Specifically his voice, filling the space. "The worst hunt you ever went on. I don't care. Something."
He understood. He started talking — the Wichita job, three years before you'd met, a haunting that had gone sideways in eleven different directions, the story told in his flat and dry way that had always made even bad things sound like something you could survive. He talked, and you listened, and Marcus worked, and you breathed.
At one point Marcus paused and looked at Dean with what appeared to be genuine curiosity. "You're remarkable, actually," he said. "Most parents — I've done this before, with other children, other hunters — most parents can't maintain any kind of composure past the first few minutes."
"I'm not doing it for composure," Dean said. The story had stopped; his eyes were on you, steady, unflinching. "I'm doing it for her."
"Yes," Marcus said. "That's what I mean."
The last cut was the deepest.
The sound you made was not one you were going to think about later. There was a long moment where the world went the color of static — grey-white, dimensionless — and then Dean's voice dragged you back by main force, saying your name like a question and an answer at once.
"Still here," you got out. Barely.
"Good. Good. Eyes on me. Count the bolts on the beam behind me — "
"Six," you said. "There are six. I counted them an hour ago."
"Count them again."
You counted them again. The world came back to full color, unwillingly.
Marcus stepped back, surveying the results of the night with the quiet satisfaction of someone reviewing completed work. He set the knife down on the table with a small, deliberate sound. He picked up his wine glass.
"I'll leave you to each other for a while," he said. He sounded almost kind. "I find that the waiting, after, is its own kind of useful."
He walked out. The door closed.
The sudden quiet was enormous.
"Hey." Dean's voice. Stripped of everything except what was underneath. "Hey, look at me."
You lifted your head.
"There she is," he said, and you heard everything that wasn't the words. "I'm sorry about that. You know the name. I wanted — I was going to tell you, eventually, if you wanted. I wasn't trying to make that decision for you."
You looked at him. "Dean."
"Yeah."
"I've been using the name for about a year."
Another pause. "Oh."
"Quietly. Like on forms and stuff. I didn't say anything because—" You stopped. Breathed. The bleeding wasn't stopping the way it should have been. "Because I didn't know how to bring it up."
"That's—" He made a short, rough sound. "Kid, that's — good. That's good. I'm glad." His voice was tight with something that wasn't gladness, not exactly, something more complicated and more desperate. "Keep talking to me. How are you doing?"
"I've been better."
"Scale of one to ten."
"Maybe a six." This was optimistic. "Five and a half."
"Yeah." He knew you were being optimistic. You could hear it. "They'll come back. We need to be ready when they do. Can you work with the chains at all?"
You pulled experimentally. The beam held. "Not right now."
"Okay." He was regrouping, you could hear him thinking. "Sam knows where we were headed. He'll notice when we miss check-in. He'll—"
"Dean." You said it gently. "That was eight hours ago."
A beat.
"He'll find us," Dean said, and the certainty in it was not the certainty of evidence but of something that didn't require evidence.
You sagged against the beam. The cold of the concrete floor was beginning to work its way through your jeans. The edges of your vision were doing more things now.
"Hey. Hey, Y/n, eyes open."
"They're open."
"Look at me. Keep them on me."
You did. Twelve feet was close enough to see his face clearly. He was looking at you the way he'd looked at you from the doorway sometimes, after bad hunts, except with everything scaled up past what doorways allow for.
"I've been thinking," you said, because the silence felt dangerous, "about the time you tried to teach me to make pie and we were finding flour in the vents for like three weeks."
A short, involuntary laugh broke out of him. "That was your fault."
"I dispute that."
"You dropped the whole bag."
"You startled me." The memory of it was warm, which felt strange against everything else happening. "Sam was so annoyed."
"Sam still brings it up."
"I know. He brought it up last week."
Dean was quiet for a moment. Then: "You remember the first time I taught you to shoot? Properly, I mean."
"You took me out to that field in Nebraska."
"You were terrible."
"I was new."
"You cried."
"I was frustrated. There's a difference." You shifted against the beam. The wound pulled and you absorbed it. "You didn't make me feel bad about it."
"Of course not."
"Most people in your position would have. Would have said something like—" you dropped your voice into an approximation, "—you're a hunter's kid, you should already know this."
"Most people in my position aren't in my position," he said. "I know what it's like to be handed something you didn't ask for and told to figure it out."
You looked at him.
"The hunting thing," he said. "I mean the hunting thing."
"I know what you meant."
He was quiet again. Then, carefully: "I know I'm not—I didn't do any of the — the actual work. The stuff that makes someone a father. I know that. I know you had people who were more that than me, people who were there."
"Dean—"
"I'm just saying I don't expect anything. I never wanted you to feel like I was asking for something. Like you owed me a word or — or anything."
The warehouse was very quiet. Somewhere outside, dawn was beginning to suggest itself at the edges of the broken windows.
"You came and found me," you said.
"Yeah."
"You didn't have to. You didn't know me. You just found out I existed and you came to a parking lot in Tulsa and you—" You stopped. The edges again. You pushed them back. "You looked at me like I mattered before you had any reason to think I did. That's — I don't know what else to call that."
"I knew whose kid you were," he said quietly. "But it wasn't — it wasn't about that. It wasn't because I felt like I owed a debt, or—"
"I know," you said.
He looked at you.
"I know," you said again. "I've known for a while. That's why I started using the name."
A muscle in his jaw moved. His eyes were very bright in the work-light. He looked away, looked back. "You should've told me."
"I know. I was scared."
"Of what?"
You thought about it honestly, which was easier to do when your body was in the process of reminding you that time was limited. "That it would change something. That if I said it out loud, whatever we had would have to become something else, something with a label, and then it could be — I don't know. Broken differently."
Dean was quiet for a moment.
"Nothing's going to break it," he said.
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do." The same certainty as before. Same quality. "You're mine, kid. You've been mine since that parking lot and nothing about saying so changes anything except that you know I know you know." He paused. "That was grammatically complicated."
"I followed it." You closed your eyes for just a second.
"Hey. Hey — "
"I'm here." You opened them. "I'm here. Just — tired."
"I know. Stay with me." His voice dropped into something lower, more urgent. "Sam is coming. I need you to stay with me until Sam comes."
"Sam and his stupid long legs," you said. "Running to the rescue."
"He's very heroic."
"He really is." Your voice was coming from farther away than it should have been. "Dean."
"Yeah."
"I'm going to say it."
A pause. "You don't have to."
"I know I don't have to." The word was right there, small and enormous simultaneously, the way true things often are. "I want to."
You looked at him across twelve feet of cold warehouse floor, in the blue-grey light of a breaking dawn, blood-loss and fear and two and a half years of accumulated warmth all arriving at the same moment.
"Don't let me fall asleep," you said. "Dad."
The sound that came out of Dean then was not a sound he would ever, in any other context, have allowed himself to make. It was brief and broken, and he covered it almost immediately, swallowing it back, but you'd heard it.
"I won't," he said, when he could. "I've got you. I've got you. Keep talking—"
⛧
The doors came off their hinges at 5:47 in the morning.
Sam came through first, which was guessed by the height differential and the shotgun. Castiel came through approximately one second later and in a direction that didn't correspond to any available entry point, which was one of the more useful things about Castiel. The next four minutes were extremely loud and involved significant use of dead man's blood and resulted, eventually, in a silence more quiet than the previous one.
Sam reached Dean first — nearest beam, longer chains, working on the lock with hands that were shaking slightly in the way that meant he'd been terrified and was now converting it into motion.
"Where is she, where—"
"Other beam. Go. Go."
Sam went. You heard him make a sound very similar to the one Dean had made earlier, and then his hands were on the chains and his voice was above you saying your name and saying I've got you, I've got you, you're okay.
Castiel was there then, the warm pressure of a hand on your head, the sensation of grace moving through you like electricity that doesn't hurt—knitting, healing, the blood loss reversing itself one impossible inch at a time. You felt your vision clear. Felt the edges pull back to where edges are supposed to be.
When you could sit up properly, Dean was crouched in front of you.
He looked terrible. He looked like someone had taken two and a half years of carefully managed feeling and turned it up past the dial's limit. He looked like your father.
"Hi," you said.
"Hi," he said.
You reached out and grabbed his jacket with both hands and he pulled you in without hesitation, his arms going around you, his chin dropping to the top of your head, and he held on with the specific grip of someone who has been imagining letting go.
"I've got you," he said, into your hair. "Told you I had you."
"You did," you agreed.
Sam's enormous hand landed on both your backs, warm and solid. Castiel stood nearby in the growing morning light, watching all of you with an expression that, for him, was essentially beaming.
"Can we go home," you said. "I want coffee."
"Yeah," Dean said. His voice had recovered most of its usual texture. "Yeah, we can go home."
He kept one hand on your shoulder the entire walk to the car.
⛧
You sat at the war table with both hands wrapped around a mug, wearing Sam's enormous borrowed flannel, and the overhead lights were very bright and the map was covered in its usual constellation of pins, and it was ordinary in the way that extraordinary things sometimes become.
Sam was making breakfast with the focused energy of someone who needed something to do with his hands. The sounds and smells of it filled the kitchen and drifted into the library, and you let it all just happen around you like weather.
Dean came and sat down across from you. Put his own mug down. Didn't say anything.
You looked up at him.
He looked back.
"You meant it," he said, eventually. "Earlier. That wasn't — just the circumstances."
"I meant it."
He nodded. He picked up his mug. He looked at the map. "Okay," he said, in a voice that meant something much larger than the word.
From the kitchen, Sam's voice: "Eggs or pancakes?"
"Both," you called back.
"Both," Dean agreed, with the absolute decisiveness of a man who has recently had a religious experience and is converting it directly into appetite.
You looked at him across the table — at the laugh lines starting at the corners of his eyes, at the set of his shoulders loosening by degrees, at the face that was starting to look, more and more, like something familiar when you looked in mirrors.
Dad, you thought. Just to hear it in your head again, the weight of it.
It fit. It had, probably, for longer than you'd admitted.
You drank your coffee. The bunker hummed around you, full of light.
Ahh I just found your blog, but your writing is so so so good!! Could you write platonic yandere headcanons for lucifer from hazbin hotel? 🫶🫶🫶 tysm in advanceeee
DUMB
- The very second you call him “good dad material” even jokingly, even once, it’s over. That little comment gets permanently etched into his brain like a divine commandment. You’re his kid now. No take-backs. Heaven and Hell can fight about it—he doesn’t care.
- He genuinely believes the hotel is the most dangerous place in all of Hell for someone he cares about. Not because of the residents (okay… maybe a little because of Alastor), but because it keeps attracting near-apocalyptic events. Every Extermination, every turf war, every time a pipe bursts and Angel makes a dirty joke about it—he’s there five seconds later, scooping you up like you’re made of glass.
“No no no sweetheart—Charlie’s got this, you don’t need to help with the drywall, you could get a splinter. Splinters in Hell hurt extra. Trust me. I’ve cried over worse.”
- Extremely touchy in that embarrassing parent way. Constant hair ruffles, cheek pinches, fixing your collar, tucking your jacket in, wiping imaginary dust off your face with his thumb even when there’s nothing there. If you try to swat his hand away he just gives you the biggest, most wounded puppy eyes imaginable until you give up.
- Has a special little “emergency duck” he made just for you. It looks exactly like you (down to the exact shade of your hair/skin tone/outfit style). He insists it’s “purely decorative” but the second you’re upset or hurt he’s shoving it into your arms like it’s a therapy item. He also has a tiny throne version of it sitting on his desk that he talks to when you’re not around.
- If anyone raises their voice at you—even playfully—he materializes behind them with the temperature dropping twenty degrees and that too-wide smile.
“Heyyyy… pal. You wanna try that tone again? Or should I help you remember how vocal cords work?”
(He never actually hurts them. He just makes them extremely aware that he could.)
- Keeps a very detailed mental (and probably physical) list of everyone who has ever been even slightly mean to you. It’s color-coded. Red = immediate concern. Gold = “they looked at you funny and I didn’t like the vibe.” He checks it like a normal person checks their calendar.
- Will 100% crash your hangouts with the other residents. He tries to be subtle about it. He is not subtle.
pops into the lounge with a picnic basket the size of a small car
“I baked apple turnovers! :D And also brought three different kinds of hot chocolate because I didn’t know which one you’d want today—oh hi Angel. Didn’t see you there. How unfortunate.”
- If you ever get hurt (even a scraped knee), he goes full nuclear meltdown. Tears. Trembling lower lip. Huge glowing red eyes. The whole “my baby is DYING” routine. It takes Charlie physically dragging him away so you can actually get a band-aid without him trying to bubble-wrap your entire leg.
- Extremely jealous of anyone who gets too much of your attention. Husk gets a five-minute conversation with you? Lucifer is suddenly there holding a rubber duck that suspiciously looks like Husk but with sad eyes.
“Look! I made your friend! Isn’t he cute? He’s also very quiet. Unlike some people.”
- Secretly (not secretly) has a whole wing of the palace redecorated “just in case” you ever want to come stay with him instead of the hotel. It has everything: your favorite snacks always restocked, every single hyperfixation item he’s ever seen you like, a giant bed with approximately 8000 pillows, and a balcony that overlooks a private apple orchard he grew himself.
- The most terrifying thing about platonic yandere Lucifer is how gentle he is with it. He never hurts you. Never threatens you. He just… quietly rearranges the universe so that nothing and no one can ever take you away or make you sad again. And he does it while humming a little lullaby and offering you homemade pancakes.
- Final note: if you ever tell him “you’re the best dad ever” even sarcastically—he will cry actual golden tears, hug you so tight your feet leave the ground, and then spend the next three weeks making you custom ducks of every major life event you’ve ever had. Including the day you met him.
thinking about thomas’s old friend stopping by for a visit <3
like imagine in a perfect world where the slaughterhouse didn’t shut down and the small town was never abandoned. thomas would still have his job, while there would still be some dirty looks here and there no one really paid mind to him anymore. i would like to think maybe he even got a promotion one of those years.
people would actually prefer thomas as a supervisor because if they did bad all he would do is give them a thumbs down instead of yelling at them or threatening to fire them.
that being said thomas did make a friend during his starting years at the factory. the boy was older than thomas, maybe about four years older and once he turned twenty he was off to the army.
thomas was hurt when he left, tucker was the only person in that place that didn’t treat him different but he had much respect for what he left for.
that being said thomas was shocked to see the man walking into the slaughterhouse approximately fifteen years later.
thomas was taken by surprise but he welcomed the man with open arms. tucker laughed as he realized thomas hadn’t changed much in the long time he had been away but he would soon learn that wasn’t entirely the truth.
with a poorly written out note thomas invited tucker over for dinner and of course he was more than happy to attend. as he followed thomas’s car he was surprised to see that they had passed the hewitt home.
instead they continued down a bit further and ended up in front of a small farmhouse inspired home, the front lawn decked out with matching rocking chairs and a playground.
his curiosity was quickly replaced with surprise once again as the door opened and out walked a beautiful woman. your hair was nicely done, clothes cleans apart from the apron that was stained with food you were currently working on and your smile was wide as your eyes locked onto the big man rushing over to you.
tucker watched in awe as thomas spun you around, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist and the other was still holding onto the bag he brought from work.
seconds later a kid ran out, he was no older than three but looked five and that was no surprise considering he was exactly identical to the man who doubled in size to almost anyone.
the boy was the first one who noticed tucker, head tilted in confusion. he tugged at your dress and thats when you finally noticed the man who stood awkwardly by his car as he watched the scene unfold.
“you brought a friend?” you asked thomas who nodded rapidly, waving tucker over.
“hi ma’am im tucker, tommy’s old friend” your eyes widen in realization as you remembered hearing all about the boy who made your tommy’s life at the slaughterhouse a little less worse.
you quickly waved him off, instructing him to call you by your name since he was technically family.
tucker noticed immediately how much the two of you loved each other. whenever he would ask questions you would happily answer with heart eyes as you mentioned thomas or your life you are growing with him.
when tucker would ramble and talk thomas’s ear off, he would notice thomas would nod with every word all while his eyes were locked onto you.
he learned that your son, who is in fact three was also named thomas but goes by tom to avoid confusion around his family. he’s learned that you were actually a first grade teacher and that luda mae still ran the little gas station not that far out.
you showed off your wedding photos and tom’s milestones and thomas just nodded along with everything you said—his smile never fading.
as the night died down both him and thomas retired outside, both drinking a beer as tucker obviously led the conversation.
“im actually really proud of you thomas” he admitted. tucker had carried a lot of guilt when he left thomas all those years ago. thomas never spoke up for himself and always took the abuse everyone gave him. tucker made sure that didn’t happen and when he left he knew thomas would have no one.
now he learns that thomas actually made a life for himself, he’s married, he has a kid, a loving family and he still has a good paying job. it’s not what he expected but he’s beyond happy for the man who was dealt a pretty shitty hand.
uh uh whoever left this, i love you and you deserve a big ole kiss <333
Content warning: You're a cosplayer. Hair pulling! Written at 3 AM, not my proudest LOL...
@rinsosilly
Fem reader
You're still staring at your phone two days later.
The notifications haven't stopped. Your Instagram follower count has tripled. People are making edits of you and Kaiser side-by-side. Someone made a TikTok comparing your cosplay accuracy to the original and it has thousands of views.
Emma thinks this is the funniest thing that's ever happened.
Emma: girl you're FAMOUS
Emma: "female kaiser" is still trending
Emma: this is insane
You: I KNOW
You: i still can't believe he actually posted it
Emma: and ness reposted it 👀
You: don't EVEN start
But then something happens that makes your brain short-circuit all over again.
You're scrolling through your notifications—trying to keep up with the comments, the tags, the shares—when you see it.
@;ness.alexis started following you.
You drop your phone.
It clatters on your desk and you just stare at it, heart hammering in your chest. You pick it up with shaking hands and check again, convinced you imagined it.
Nope. Still there. Alexis Ness is following you.
And then you notice something else.
He's been going through your account. Methodically. There are notifications going back hours—he's liked your recent posts, your older posts, posts from months ago. He's hearted your story highlights. He's saved some of your posts to favorites.
And every single one of your Kaiser cosplay posts? Liked AND saved.
You take a screenshot and immediately send it to Emma.
You: EMMA
You: EMMA LOOK
You: NESS IS STALKING MY ACCOUNT
Emma: SHUT UP
Emma: SHUT UP RIGHT NOW
Emma: HE LIKED EVERYTHING???
You: EVERYTHING
You: HE SAVED ALL THE KAISER ONES
You: WHAT DO I DO
Emma: okay okay calm down
Emma: this is good
Emma: this is VERY good
You: HOW IS THIS GOOD I'M HAVING A CRISIS
Emma: because now you have an IN
Emma: you know what you should do?
You: what
Emma: cosplay ness next time
You stare at your phone.
Then you scream into your pillow.
Because that's genius.
Weeks later, you're standing in front of your mirror, adjusting the magenta wig for the fifth time.
The Ness cosplay had come together faster than you expected. The wig had been easier to style than Kaiser's, no rattail to worry about, just that distinctive magenta color and the way it frames his face. You'd found his Bastard München jersey in the right size, and you'd spent an embarrassing amount of time studying photos to get the details right.
No tattoos this time, but you'd worked hard on the makeup. Foundation to even out your skin tone, a touch of contouring to match his face shape, and carefully applied blush on your cheeks to give that softer, cuter look. You'd even practiced some of his expressions in the mirror, that soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes when he's focused on Kaiser.
You take a photo and post it to your story with the caption: "Guess who's going to the match today 💜"
Your phone buzzes almost immediately.
It's Ness. He's replied to your story.
@;ness.alexis: no way
@;ness.alexis: you're cosplaying me??
Your heart is in your throat as you type back.
You: surprise!!
@;ness.alexis: that's
@;ness.alexis: wow
@;ness.alexis: the wig looks really good
You: THANK YOU
You: i wasn't sure if i got the color right
@;ness.alexis: it's perfect
There's a pause, then another message.
@;ness.alexis: are you actually coming to the match?
You: yes!!
@;ness.alexis: that's really cool
@;ness.alexis: maybe we'll see you there
You screenshot the entire conversation and send it to Emma, who responds with approximately fifteen exclamation points and the words "MARRY BOTH OF THEM."
The Allianz Arena feels different this time.
Maybe it's because you know what to expect. Maybe it's because you're dressed as Ness instead of Kaiser, the magenta wig drawing just as much attention as the blonde one did. Maybe it's because you're actively hoping to run into them instead of it being a complete accident.
People recognize you immediately.
"Oh my god, it's Female Kaiser!"
"Wait, no she's Ness this time!"
"Can we get a picture?!!"
Emma stands off to the side, filming some of the interactions on her phone and grinning like a proud mom. You pose with group after group, people gushing about the costume, about how they didn't expect you to do Ness, about how excited they are to see what you'll do next.
But after about fifteen minutes, you're getting antsy. You keep scanning the area, wondering if they're here somewhere, if you should go looking-
You catch Emma's eye and she immediately understands. She makes a shooing motion with her hands.
"Do it," she mouths.
You grin and excuse yourself from the current group of fans. "I need to head to my seat soon, but thank you guys so much for the photos!"
You make your way over to Emma, who's practically bouncing. "Go find your boys," she says. "And text me EVERYTHING."
"I will!"
Your heart is hammering as you navigate through the crowd, heading toward the area where you'd run into them last time. It's a long shot—lightning doesn't strike twice, right?—but you have to try. You remember Ness's message, the way he said maybe they'd see you there, and something in your gut tells you to check.
The corridor is quieter here, away from the main flow of foot traffic. You're looking around, trying to remember exactly where you'd been standing when-
"Looking for someone?"
You spin around so fast you almost trip over your own feet.
Kaiser is standing there, arms crossed, that signature arrogant expression on his face. And next to him, Alexis Ness, whose eyes go wide the moment he sees you.
"OMIGOSHHH!!" The sound escapes you before you can stop it. "You're really here! Were you two searching for me?!"
Ness's face immediately flushes pink, his mouth opening and closing like he can't quite figure out what to say.
Kaiser sighs, looking vaguely annoyed as he glances at Ness. "I was forced to come. He was searching for you."
"Kaiser—" Ness starts, but his protest is weak.
You can barely contain your excitement, practically bouncing on your feet. "Awwww reallyyy? You were really looking for me?! That's so- I'm so happy right now!"
Ness is staring at you, taking in the magenta wig, the costume, the blush on your cheeks, and he looks completely overwhelmed. "You're..." he manages. "You're... really dressed as me."
"I am!" You do a little spin. "Do you like it? Is it accurate?"
Ness opens his mouth, closes it, then nods. "It's... really accurate. The wig, the uniform..." His voice is softer now. "The makeup. It all looks really good. Cute, I guess."
Before you can stop yourself, you're walking up to him, closing the distance with pure enthusiasm. "I'm so glad you think so! The wig was SO hard to style I spent like three hours on it! I kept worrying it wouldn't look right, and you probably don't even spend that much time on your actual hair but I was busting my ass trying to get it perfect!"
You're laughing now, and Ness can't help but smile, some of that tension easing from his shoulders.
"It's accurate enough," he says, and there's warmth in his voice. "Really. You did a great job."
"Your hair is so cool though!" you gush. "Like, it's not even dyed? This is your natural color? It's so pretty! I was thinking maybe I should just style my actual hair like this instead of wearing a wig—"
Without thinking, you reach up and your fingers thread through his actual hair. It's soft. Incredibly soft and fluffy, and you can't help but play with it a little, marveling at the texture.
"It's so fluffy!" you say, delighted.
Ness has gone completely still. His face is getting redder by the second, and he's just standing there, frozen, as your fingers gently tug at his hair, styling it slightly, testing how it moves.
"Do you think I could pull off this color?" you're asking, still playing with his hair, completely oblivious to the way he's stopped breathing. "I mean, I'd have to bleach it first, and then tone it, but—"
You finally look at his face and pause. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink, his eyes slightly wide, and he looks completely flustered.
You grin. "Oh! Now we really match! Look, you're blushing just like the makeup I did!"
Kaiser, who's been watching this entire exchange with barely concealed amusement, actually laughs. "Ness, you're blushing like a dumb school girl."
"Stop..." Ness mutters, but he doesn't move away from your touch.
"Can't handle someone playing with your hair?" Kaiser's smirk is vicious. "How pathetic."
"I'm really not..."
"She's dressed as you and your knees are buckling."
"Kaiser, I swear to god—"
You finally drop your hand, giggling at their dynamic. "Sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I really can get ahead of myself sometimes—"
"You didn't," Ness says quickly, then seems to realize how eager that sounds and clears his throat. "I mean. It's fine. You're fine. I mean- don't worry about it."
Kaiser is still grinning like he's won something. "So, now that you've thoroughly flustered Ness, I assume you want photos again?" He turns to you, tilting his head.
Your face lights up. "Yes! Oh my god, yes—I was actually hoping we could do some really specific shots this time? I have references and everything..."
"References." Kaiser repeats, amused. "Show me."
You pull out your phone, showing him the photos you'd saved—action shots of Kaiser and Ness together, some of their dynamic on the field, that infamous moment where Kaiser shoves Ness's head down into a bow.
Kaiser's expression shifts into something dangerous. Something very pleased.
"Oh," he says slowly. "You want to recreate that."
"If you're okay with it! I know it's kind of intense but it's such an iconic moment—"
"I'm very okay with it," Kaiser says, and there's something sharp in his smile. He looks at Ness. "You good with this?"
Ness, still slightly flushed, nods. "Yeah. Let's do it."
You turn, facing away from him, and suddenly you're very aware of how tall he is compared to you. How much space he takes up. You can feel him behind you, close enough that you're hyperaware of his presence.
There's a moment of silence, and then you feel it—his gaze. Heavy and intense, boring into your back like a physical weight. It makes a shiver run down your spine, and you fight the urge to turn around and look at him.
"Nervous?" His voice is low, amused.
"A little," you admit.
"Good."
And then his hand is in your hair—in the wig—and his grip is firm, almost rough. Before you can process what's happening, he's shoving you forward and down, forcing you into a deep bow, the same way he does to Ness.
His hand is so big, completely engulfing the back of your head, controlling the motion with ease. Your heart drops straight to your stomach in the best possible way.
"That's no good, Ness."
His voice is different now. That same tone he uses on the field, commanding and sharp and absolutely in control. It makes something in your chest tighten, your breath catching.
Ness is standing off to the side, and he looks like his brain is trying to process something it can't quite handle. His face is flushed, his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him—Kaiser pulling your hair, you dressed as him, the whole thing—
"This is the weirdest thing I've ever experienced," Ness says faintly.
"Good." Kaiser's smirk is vicious now. He tugs your hair again, gentler this time, and you can't help the small noise you make.
"Got the photo?" Kaiser asks, and you realize Ness has been taking pictures the entire time.
"...Yeah," Ness says, and his voice sounds slightly strained. "Got it."
Kaiser releases you, and you straighten up slowly, trying to catch your breath. Your hands are shaking slightly as you turn to look at him.
"Oh my god," you breathe out. "This feels so good—Ness, I'm so jealous!"
Kaiser's smirk is absolutely wicked. "Good to know."
Ness, who's been watching the whole thing with a complicated expression, just nods. "Yeah. It's... intense."
"Intense doesn't even cover it!" You're fanning your face. "I think I need a minute to recover from that."
"You asked for it," Kaiser points out, looking far too pleased with himself.
"I know! And it was worth it! But also—wow—okay—" You're still trying to catch your breath, turning to Ness. "Can I see the photos?"
"Yeah," Ness says, his voice strained. "Here."
They're perfect. The angle captures everything, Kaiser's hand in your hair, the way he's forced you into that bow, the clear power dynamic. Your face is partially hidden but you can see the flush on your cheeks, the way you're completely at his mercy in that moment.
"These are so good," you mumble. "Please can you send these to me?"
"Already did," Ness says.
You're checking the photos on your phone, still blushing, when you suddenly gasp. "Oh! Can I get a selfie with you guys? Like, just regular selfies?"
Ness blinks, surprised. "You want—"
"Yes!" You're already moving closer to him, holding up your phone. "Please?"
Ness looks completely caught off guard, but he nods. "Yeah. Okay."
"You're the best, Ness!!!" You practically bounce with excitement as you stand next to him, holding your phone up for the selfie angle. "Smile!"
Ness manages a soft smile, and you beam at the camera, snapping a few photos. When you check them, your heart does a little flip—you in the Ness cosplay, standing next to the actual Ness, both of you smiling. So cute.
"So cute!" you say, showing him. "Thank you!"
Then you turn to Kaiser, who's been watching with an amused expression. "Your turn!"
Kaiser raises an eyebrow. "You want a selfie with me too?"
"Obviously!" You're already moving over to him. "Please?"
He doesn't protest, just stands there as you position yourself next to him. You hold up the phone, grinning widely while Kaiser maintains his signature arrogant expression—though you swear there's a hint of amusement in his eyes.
You take several photos, checking them with satisfaction. "These are amazing! Thank you...!"
"You should dress as Kaiser next time."
Both you and Kaiser turn to stare at him.
"What?" Kaiser says.
Ness is looking at you with an intensity that makes your heart skip. "Next time you come to a match. Dress as Kaiser again." He pauses, then adds quieter: "I liked that one better."
There's something in the way he says it that makes the air feel heavier. You glance at Kaiser, who's watching Ness with an unreadable expression.
"I—" you start. "I can do that."
"Good," Ness says simply.
You turn to Kaiser suddenly, remembering. "Oh! Thank you, by the way. For doing the whole—" you gesture vaguely at your hair, at the bowing position, "—that thing. I know it was kind of a weird request."
And then you get it. The way he's been looking at Ness, that smug expression—this whole thing was revenge. Payback for Ness being weird about you cosplaying Kaiser last time.
Your face heats up even more, but you can't help the slightly breathless laugh that escapes you. "Oh my god, you did that to get back at him, didn't you?"
Kaiser's smirk widens. "Maybe."
Ness is very quiet, his face still flushed, and he's avoiding looking directly at either of you. He seems to have no idea how to react, just standing there with his phone in hand.
You're grinning, riding the high of the whole interaction, when a thought pops into your head. "You know what? Maybe I should cosplay Yoichi Isagi next time! That one Japanese boy, from... er... Blue Lock?"
"Absolutely not," Kaiser and Ness say at the exact same time.
You blink, surprised by the synchronization. "Whaat? Why not?"
"Just no," Kaiser says firmly. "No."
"Don't," Ness adds, his voice unusually sharp.
You can't help but laugh at their identical reactions. "Okay, okay! Kaiser it is then!"
Kaiser checks the time. "We need to go. Warmups."
"Right—yeah—" You step back. "Thank you again! Good luck with the match!"
Kaiser nods, already turning to leave.
Ness lingers for just a moment, finally meeting your eyes. "Thank you. For the cosplay. Um, no one's ever done that for me before."
"Of course! You're amazing, Ness."
His smile is soft before he jogs after Kaiser.
That night, you post the photos.
The carousel includes the hair grab photo where Kaiser has you bowed, and a few others Ness took during that moment.
The caption reads: "Round 2: Ness edition 💜 Thank you @;kaiser.michael and @;ness.alexis for being the absolute best. (PS: Kaiser is terrifying in the best way possible.)"
The responses flood in immediately.
@;emma.alpha: THE HAIR GRAB PHOTO OMG OMGHELLO???
@;lickylickylicky1: FEMALE NESS THIS TIME OH YEEAS
@;onikaburgers: the power dynamic in that photo is INSANE
@;tigereli: i need what they have NOOW,,,,
@;bunnyishotasf: ness watching this happen must have been an experience
You're waiting for their comments, and they come about fifteen minutes later.
@;ness.alexis: this was really cool
@;ness.alexis: thank you for cosplaying me
@;ness.alexis: you should do kaiser next time 👍
Your heart does something complicated.
Then:
@;kaiser.michael: 4/10. Better execution than last time. Still too short.
DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS (PT 3): GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU
Synopsis: When you have questions about physical intimacy Satoru and Suguru are quick to answer them.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, satosugu x fem!reader, pet names, praise, teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving), finger sucking, penetration, unprotected sex, allusions to first times/ virginity loss, mentions of alcohol (nothing occurs under the influence), cum eating, marking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, very slight degradation (reader is called slut once, affectionately)
Part 1 Part 2 >Part 3<
It was then, after a few months they spent thoroughly stretching your pussy, before they even dared to answer one of your dirtiest little questions.
"What would it feel like if you fucked me"
But that wasn't only a question you posed but many of the other students on campus. You could hear it in the little slivers of conversations your eavesdropping ears picked up on when you walked over to the two boys as they waited outside your classroom, wanting to all check out a cafe that just opened up, Satoru's sweet tooth itching to try out the abundance of pastries and desserts. Your feet hitting the tiled grounds as you approached them, catching faint whispers of adoration as onlookers marveled their beauty, and at times you couldn't ignore the feeling of pride that you'd get knowing that those pretty lips people murmured about have touched yours, on multiple occasions.
When you were sitting in the lecture room awaiting your professors, you could hear poorly whispered words as girl's squealed, flushed faces speculating just how long both boy's were, trying to correlate it to their height and hand size and while their imaginations were left to run wild you sat there with an exact approximation in your head, knowing that while they talked about solely length width was an overwhelming factor as well, while Suguru would be considered decently long compared to the average size his girth was jaw-breaking while Satoru hit length out of the park with how absurd he was, he'd hit the back of your neck and still not be fully inside your mouth.
It was these piece by piece dirty confessions you picked out upon, and you could find yourself mentally answering almost every question you came across, while people wondered how they talked in the bedroom, you could hear their words in your ears as you recounted the countless filthy things they've spewed, while people pondered if they took aftercare seriously or just walked after they fucked, you were being coddled in bare arms while sitting in a porcelain bathtub knowing full well that if you weren't comfortable after they made you orgasm it only meant they were going to force yet another round out of you.
While you could find yourself knowing the response to every query, there was still one that left you stumped, what would fucking them feel like. Obviously you could speculate, knowing full well the answer would be mind-blowingly good, but your aching cunt could only clench around their fingers so much while you pretended it was actually their cocks.
You had it all, they gave their everything to you and yet you were still greedy for more, hungry for them to scratch this itch deep in your guts, answer one of your few unanswered questions you always barraged them with.
It was a question that hung over your head, flooding your brain even when you didn't call for it.
The night air bit at your exposed skin, coating you in a cloak of frost as your teeth chattered, arms wrapped around your torso to try and preserve your warmth, the sky swathed with darkness as not even stars could shine, the neon signs of the bustling building behind you and the many other buildings with bright lamps creating too much light pollution for the pin pricks to dot through.
The loud thumping bass shook the pavement beneath your heel clad feet as the music barely muffled behind the pulsing plaster walls, lingering scent of alcohol wafting through the opening and closing doors as bodies motioned past you, bright headlights of cars pulling up to the curb as group after group of party goers dressed in skin tight outfits rushed to get inside.
You were no exception, the short baby pink bodycon dress you wore hugging your curves in delicious ways as your slowly blistering feet slightly bounced to the rhythmic beats behind you, the rustling of foliage sending shivers down your spine as a gust of wind tussled through your still somehow immaculate hair, the squishy space of the club's dance floor doing little to disturb the look you curated at the start of the night.
"Hey (L/N), you doing alright," and you turn towards the door, staring at the face of one of your upperclassmen. his short cropped hair hanging to his sweaty forehead as the scent of booze carried with him as he approached/
"Yeah," you nod, trying to plaster on a smile over your tired face, not expecting the night to turn out this way as he stood a couple respectful steps away from you, "just waiting on my ride."
"What!" he gasped, "you leaving already," he exclaimed, "you didn't even get a drink in your system," he said it as though it was a crime, "c'mon we got a student discount, I'll even buy you one if you're short on cash, or even if you are... high on cash, my treat," and he reached for your arm, perspiring palm tugging on your wrist but you take a step away, yanking yourself out of his weak drunken grasp.
"I'm really okay," you politely decline with a shake of your head, and you could feel your phone start to vibrate in the small glittery clutch you held tight to your chest. Quickly you flipped open the clasp and took the device out, bright screen illuminating your face despite the brightness being turned significantly down, the buzzing of a familiar caller ID bringing a smile to your lips as you pressed it to your ear.
"Hello," you start, tapping your finger against your case.
"We're almost there," he said instead.
"It's the nightclub down on 7th right," and you realized that his phone was connected to the cars audio system as a second voice spoke up.
"Mhm," you nod, staring up at the street sign that stood tall, on a metal pole stuck in the sidewalk, a couple meters down, illuminated by a flickering lamppost, assuring the man for the second time that night that he hadn't got your location incorrect, and from your other ear you could hear your peer continue to talk.
"Well alright then," he sighed, "do you want me to walk you home at least, it's getting late," he offered and yet again you shook your head.
"I'm getting a ride, remember," you reiterate, shifting on the balls of your feet as he leaned against the planter pot of the large hedge beside the two of you, trying to keep balance on his drunken feet.
"Who are you talking to love."
"No one important," you reply dismissively.
"Oh yeah," he laughed from beside you, "silly me," he grinned, "do you want my jacket then, you seem pretty cold," and you could suddenly feel his eyes rake over your body, making you squeeze your arms around your torso a little tighter.
"I'm okay," you mumble, averting your gaze before biting at your lip, whispering into the phone "please hurry," you shiver, goosebumps prickling over your skin.
"Only a few blocks away," he reassures and you could hear the accelerator hum even through the phone.
"Are you sure you ain't wearing much," he comments and you shake your head.
"No I'm perfectly fine," you stand your ground, eyes lighting up as you watched a familiar car skid to the curb, pulling to a stop in front of you and the passenger side door flung open even before the vehicle's engine shut off.
White hair puffed against his head, feet stomping as they hit pavement and quickly you were covered in a warm coat, hands draping the fabric over your shoulders and you could hear the click of the car lock from over his shoulders, spotting the bright head lights turn off and another pair of quick paced shoes approach.
"Finally found you pretty girl," Satoru whispered into your ear, hands running up and down your frigid arms, forcing the warmth from the woven fabric into your limbs and couldn't help but ogle at the droop in his shirt as he leaned down to stare into your eyes, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest, tops of his pecs peeking out as he flashed just the right amount of cleavage. "You like what you see," he teased, capturing your wandering gaze and you brought an all too cold finger to trace his collarbone, his warm hand instantly capturing it as he tried to heat up the appendage.
"Mhm," you sigh, letting careful hands take your bag from you and you smile at the sight of his dark hair, inky locks rivaling the sky as it framed his grinning face.
"Oh uhm," you could hear a drunken slur and Satoru is pulling you away by the shoulders, moving you flush to his chest as he shared his body heat, eyes glaring at the boy who gaped at the scene, eying the two men who were quick to coddle you, "I guess I'll be going then," he mumbled, brows furrowed and you didn't meet his gaze as you opted to nuzzle into Satoru's warm skin, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind you ear.
"Yeah you will be," Suguru replies as his loitering feet don't shift to leave, the boys mouth wanting to ask you yet another question but the dark haired man's words keep him quiet as he straightens his posture.
"S-see you later (L/N)," he calls out to you, not sparing a second glance as his alcohol imbued form stumbled back into the building, leaving you hearing Satoru murmur 'like hell he will' into your scalp as Suguru's hands find your waist.
"Thought you were gonna hang out with a bunch of people from your department at the pub, how'd you end up here," he murmured flipping you around so you were facing him, your back to Satoru as he leaned to speak gently into your ear and you couldn't help but relax into his touch. "Did you drink," he asked, your all too pliant form making him worry, hands running up your sides and you shook your head. Not bothering to answer his initial question as you shut your eyes.
"No," you whispered quietly, taking in a breath as you let their body heat warm you before you are blinking up at them. Satoru was dressed in a sultry little top tucked into his dark jeans, as Suguru stood beside him, in a form fitting black tee, that you knew was the one you bought him, his high waisted baggy pants a stark contrast that accentuated his figure perfectly, and you could tell the coat on your shoulders was the last finishing touches to his outfit. "Did you?" you asked, fingers, carefully reaching up to toy with the long hanging earring from Suguru's ear, leaning back to rest your head on Satoru's shoulder, watching as the glass gem glinted beneath the moonlight.
"Nah," Satoru mused as Suguru leaned into your touch, moving downward, and soon you were cupping his face, running your thumb over his cheek, "we were just browsing the night market," he explained and you couldn't help but smile, "got you a couple gifts," he tacked on, relishing in the excited glint in your eye.
"You didn't have to."
"Didn't have to, but we wanted to," he hummed, keeping the coat that threatened to slip off, pinned to your shoulders with his hand. "You look stunning tonight," his tone was low as he murmured into your ear, a compliment only for you to hear.
"Absolutely breathtaking," Suguru mused, slightly wetting his lips as he let himself freely explore your body with his eyes, admiring the art piece that was you, "that dress looks really good on you," he compliments, knowing that you enjoyed being told the outfits you've picked look perfect, but instead of basking in his words you had something else you were focused on.
"It'd look better on your bedroom floor," you teased, running your hands over the bone of his jaw, feeling it clench ever so slightly at your comment as he leans to press a kiss to your cheek.
"Oh really," he mused, "so that's what's happening," he grinned, fingers sliding down to cup your ass as Satoru slid up, thumbs running over the skin just beneath your boobs, "does my baby have a little problem she needs us to deal with," he asks, hands gliding dangerously low as you roll your hips back, staring up at him through your pretty lashes as though you didn't just make Satoru hiss at the sensation.
"Mhm," you sigh, leaning your cheek against his shoulder, "started missin you," you murmured, memories of standing the bathroom beneath the fluorescent lights as you broke away from the sweaty atmosphere, the dance floor full of grinding bodies as the upbeat songs turned more slow and loving. The dance floor no longer being a place for you as the soft murmurs and kisses around you made you only think of them, wishing that they were there with you to sway their bodies to the beat alongside yours, wishing that they were there to plant kisses along your neck beneath the dim lights. Suddenly your lips are pulling in a pout as you tilt your head back, "take me home," you plead, doe eyes big and round.
"Course baby," Suguru's murmuring into your skin, taking one of your manicured hands in his as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "want us to take care of you tonight," he asks, catching that oh so familiar needy glint in your eyes.
"Yeah," you are sighing and soon enough they are dragging you into the car, Satoru sliding in the back seat alongside you as Suguru reluctantly took the drivers spot and you purposefully sat in the middle seat, Satoru sitting behind the passengers spot as you both remained in perfect view of his purple eyes. The stark silence a beautiful contrast to the muffled thumping from the club, the quiet cushioning the pent up stress that grew throughout the night.
"Wanna tell me what happened," Satoru hums, the plush leather seats sticking to your bare thighs as your dress began to ride up, and you make no effort to pull it down as the white haired boy leant over your body, chest brushing against yours as you caught whiffs of his expensive cologne, the seatbelt clicking in place as he carefully fastened you in before sitting back in his spot, buckling himself in as you rested your head on his shoulders, the throbbing of your fluttering walls growing unbearable as you felt his hand on your bare skin, the car beginning to reverse, gear shift clacking into place as Suguru pulled out from where he was parked, the steady hum of the wheels against the asphalt a nice lull, "how'd you go from the pub to a nightclub," he chuckled, eyes alight with intrigue as he ran the heat of his hand over your skin.
"Well," you sigh, hand sliding atop of Satoru's hand forcing it palm up as you fiddled with his fingertips, "originally we were going to stay there for the whole night like I told you because they booked a big table," you started, "then they wanted to play drinking games nd stuff, you know like truth or drink, they even played a version of spin the bottle but if you didn't want to kiss them you had to take a shot," you could feel Satoru's hand squeeze yours tightly at the comment.
"Thought you didn't drink," Suguru murmurs from the front, and you could spot the way his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, red illumination from the lights painting his face as he turned ever so slightly to face you.
"I didn't," you huff out a laugh, their steely expressions amusing, "I just went to the bathroom" and you could hear their collective exhale and it made you laugh, "you guys act like I'd wanna kiss anyone besides you two," you snicker as the car moved forward, the metronomic click of the turn signal humming as the vehicle switched lanes.
"Well I dunno, maybe you wanted to explore other options," you could hear the boy beside you grumble and you shook your head in disbelief.
"Why would I when I have the two best options."
"Yeah it'd be stupid to give that up," and soon you are smacking Satoru's shoulder at his remark, grinning at the way he laughed before you continued your little story.
"Well anyways I guess my classmates like to dance when they're drunk because then they kept dragging me to different clubs, that's why I kept texting you," you murmur, referencing the 4 different locations you had ended up sending into your trio's groupchat, keeping them updated to where you were as though you didn't let them track your device 24/7.
"You know that's not safe right," Suguru's tsking from the front seat and you pout, down cast eyes staring at the way you caressed Satoru's fingers, "how'd you guys get to all these different clubs anyways."
"Car," you mumble guiltily.
"You only have one close friend that I know went with you, and she can't drive, and we dropped you off to the pub," Suguru is eying you through the rear view mirror and you tense, "did you get into a stranger's car."
"It wasn't a stranger," you combat, "my friend knew him."
"Him," Satoru bites and you recoil a bit, knowing full well you were in the wrong.
"M'sorry," you murmur, "just didn't want to be the only one in my class not going," you confess, "but that's why I kept texting you where I was."
"I know," Suguru sighs, "but still."
"Next time you should just take us with you," Satoru cocks a grin and you furrow your brows with an incredulous laugh as even Suguru snickers.
"I couldn't do that you clingy freak," you snort, "it was only for members of my department."
"Guess I'm having a career change."
"Satoru," you giggle again, their carefree smiles loosening the tenseness in your chest as he squeezed your linked hands, shutting your eyes.
"But did something happen," Suguru calls your focus, "It's not that I mind, but why'd you call us to pick you up, seems like all your classmates were still ready to party," and his words reminded you of when you sat in the pub.
The dim lights casted long shadows along the worn wooden table strained from years of use, the warm illuminations burning from the wide bar chandelier, painting an orangey glow over the laughing faces of your peers that sat along the ever-stretching booth. The thin cushions of the seating pressed uncomfortably against your butt as it went slightly numb, forcing you to shift every so often as you did your best to appear interested, staring at the wide variety of half empty pints of beer and other liquors as you sat uneasily with your glass of water that most assumed was vodka or something along the sort, it didn't help that you didn't deny their false accusations, sipping lightly on the liquid as though it was an alcoholic beverage.
Loud voices boomed throughout the space, as wait staff paid no mind to your rambunctious group, that was wracking up quite the tab with round after round of drinks and appetizers with no real interest in buying actual meals.
"Say (L/N)," the woman who sat in front of you hummed, her painted nails tapping against the glass of her cup as she eyed you with particular interest and you nodded in acknowledgement, focusing your attention on one of the few people that took the time to spark conversation, your one close friend sitting to your right currently engaged in some other riveting talk, "you are friends with Gojo and Geto right," she mused, the clink of her tapping fingers against her cup calling your attention.
"Oh, yeah," you prove her question correct, "we've been friends since we were kids," you tack on to fill the silence that tried to make things awkward.
"Cool, cool, cool," she nods dismissively, clearly uncaring towards your little anecdote and you felt slightly skeptical about her intentions, "have you ever," she trails off, "been intimate with them," she bites her painted lip.
Huh?
The topic of her speech seeming the catch keen ears as one of the girl's sitting next to her darted her eyes in your direction, alight with curiosity.
"I mean yeah," you tilted your head slightly confused, "we hug and stuff," you weren't going to tell her that they've finger banged you on multiple occasions.
"No that's not what I mean," she shakes her head, "like sexually intimate," okay you sure as hell weren't going to tell her that, not when you barely knew this chick.
"Oh my god," the woman next to her gasps, face flushed as she grew beyond tipsy, liquor loosening her lips, "have you fucked them," she giggled making you recoil at her bluntness, "I mean if I was friends with them I'd at least try and ask," she smiles, eyes wandering off and you didn't dare to wonder what she was thinking, "they are so fucking hot."
"That's what I'm saying," the girl who initiated the conversation nodded along, "like they are super tall too so they've got to have like the whole package down there right," and she's looking back at you and you were staring into your drink, taking an awkward sip of your water.
Yeah they had the whole package, at this point they were the delivery truck full of packages with how absurdly big they are but you wouldn't say that, no chance in hell, you only hummed in a neither yes or no way as the two drunken girls fantasized about your friends.
"I can only imagine how it'd feel to be fucked by one of them," and that had your interest peaked, the question that lingered in the back of your brain forced to the forefront yet again and it hung with you all throughout the night.
"I missed you," you tell the two boys for the second time that night, shaking out from your thoughts, "people started kissin and then I started thinking bout you two, started wishing you were there, wondering what it'd feel like if you were dancing with me, grinding like everyone else," you confess shamelessly before fidgeting with Satoru's thumb as you felt him kiss your temple, reminding your cunt why she was crying in the first place, "when I was at the pub and even when I was at the club people kept bringing you up," you confide, pursing your lips as their eyes sparked with intrigue.
"Were you shit talking us love," Satoru playfully squeezes your hand and you shake your head with a laugh.
"I could never," you muse and you untangle your hands to carefully lift up your earrings to lessen the weight, your lobes slightly beginning to hurt, "only shit talking I do is to your face," and Satoru is reaching to undo the jewelry, "don't do that it makes me pretty," you protest but he shakes his head.
"Gorgeous the earrings only look pretty because you are the on wearing them," he flirts, sliding the gems out on both sides before placing them both in the purse he still held in his lap.
"Don't lose them."
"I wont," and he's pinching your cheek, "but what were your classmates saying then hmm, only good things I hope," the white haired boy continues as you lean into his touch.
"Very good things," you murmur, "kept filling my head with thoughts of you," and you brush the fabric of his white button up open a little wider before staining his peck with your lipstick, the vibrant colour a stark contrast to his pale skin, "that's better," you muse.
"Very good things," Suguru's imploring, "care to elaborate," and you can't help but bite your lip at the question, feeling your pussy pool just at the filthy thought.
"They kept wondering how good it'd feel to be fucked by you," you say almost as a whine, thighs squeezing ever so slightly as Satoru's playful gaze grew a little more hardened, "made me start to wonder too," and your hand is tracing the dip of his collar bone as you could hear Suguru suck on his teeth, the accelerator humming.
"Did my baby's pussy get wet," Satoru cooed teasingly, hands sliding to your legs, tapping your knee and you oblige, spreading your legs wider for him, letting the fabric of your dress slip up higher against your hips as his fingers brushed just beneath the hem, dancing over your thigh.
"Mhm," you nod the tiny circle he rubbed on your skin only making your walls flutter, clenching yet again around air, "I don't want to wonder any more," you murmur, leaning into Satoru's touch, meeting purple eyes in the mirror.
"You want us to answer your question pretty girl," Suguru coos.
"Uhuh," you sigh, Satoru's warm tongue licking up the column of your neck.
"Want us to fuck you," his murmurs against your skin, "show you how good it feels," and you whimper.
"Can you do it now," you whine, his fleeting touches fueling your lust as he refused to dip beneath your dress and feel where you ached for them most, yearning for them to take you right then and there.
"Patience pretty," Suguru hums, "my girl deserves to be fucked comfortably yeah, not in a cramped little car"
"Wanna make love to you," Satoru coos so gently it had you melting, "want you to see all of you while you cry on my cock," he murmuring, his hand holding your head as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, "it's too dark to see all your pretty little faces."
His lips pampered over your skin, preoccupying your greed with tiny unfulfilling kisses that only drove your hunger higher until you were finally pulling into the parking garage and he pulled away, staring at the painting he left on your neck as he unbuckles you, Suguru opening the side door and he helped tug you out.
It was quiet, your walk to the elevator, the chime of it's arrival never sounding sweeter as the three of you entered and you partially expected them to pounce right then and there but nothing. Suguru's hand was intertwined with yours but they didn't touch you, even when you pushed to your toes to press your lips to his he only gave you a sweet peck, "patience," he cooed yet again and he pressed yet another unfulfilling kiss to your pouting lips, "don't want anyone else to see the pretty faces you make," he's murmuring as he pulls away.
"There's nobody here," you grumble, annoyed as your aching core sobbed. He tugged on your linked hands, pulling you towards your apartment as the doors open and Satoru is punching in the code irritatingly slow as you shifted, impatient, "please," you whimper as the lock flicks open and before your eyes could register it your back is slamming against the door, feet stumbling into your genkan before hungry lips are on yours.
It's hard to process the sheer speed you were manhandled inside so you don't, closing your eyes as you melted into Suguru's lips, the feeling of another lingering set of hands, groping your flesh making you dizzy as he slipped his tongue inside, devouring you. You could hear the coat that once rested haphazardly on your shoulders clatter to the floor as you lifted your arms, snaking them around his neck, pulling him closer.
His lips were warm, soft, plush against yours as you zoned in on every last sensation his lips elicited, lightly sucking on your tongue before caressing it sensually with his own, your back bruising as he pinned you against the wooden door as he fidgeted and you could hear the clack of falling shoes but your strap lined heels prevented you from slipping them off so easily. It felt as though you could feel his heart beat against your chest, breaths moving in tandem as he pulled away, eyes hooded as he stared down at you with unfiltered lust before he's moving aside and you're being kissed again, nose nudging against yours before he angles his head in a way he learned to do after many years of practice, warmth fluttering from your chest to your core as he sang against you while Suguru took the time to suckle the tender flesh of your neck. You couldn't help but sigh at their actions, tongues licking gently as they explored already mapped out territory. Satoru's tongue waltzed in a little pre practiced dance and you nibbled slightly on his lip, knowing how to get that little grunt out of him. It felt surreal, his touches, they were all too familiar but just different enough, lingering with just a little more force, a little more greed. His hand slipped down to cup your thigh, lifting your leg up and resting it upon his hip and you could feel yourself grow dizzy.
Yes, you've kissed them both before but not like this, not once in your entire life had Satoru ever lifted your leg like this while the two of you kissed and they both seem to notice. "You like that baby," Suguru voices for him as Satoru squeezes the supple skin of your leg, teasing between kisses and you could only whine into his mouth, feeling his crotch alarmingly close to your pelvis. It felt hot... there was no other word your slowly muddling brain could conclude other than that, he was against you in a way he's never been before, his fingers pinching up your dress, letting it ride to rest atop your hips, panties exposed and you could feel the tent in his pants begin to grow as he rubbed.
"Aren't you wet sweetheart,"
"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he broke from your lips, crusade continuing down to your neck, head on the side Suguru has yet to mark.
"What's wrong love," he says it so innocently, but you feel him brushing over you, brushing right over your clit and your hands are fisting the fabric of his shirt, heart beating erratically and you are hyperaware of every last one of his touches. His touches that are leaving you air bound.
You yelp, surprised as he forces your weight against the door and he's reaching to grab your other thigh, forcing them both onto his hips, your cunt against his torso and you could feel the protrusions of his abs through the thin material of his shirt. You instinctively wrap your arms around his head that lifted to connect your mouths once more, Suguru's hands at your back as he pushed your weight forward, leaning you onto Satoru and you entrusted your entire weight to him that he carried easily, beefy arms snug against the plush of your thighs and up the curve of your ass.
You break off with a pant, brain fuzzying as you feel yourself move, a click and suddenly the dim expanse of your apartment is basked in a glow as his body rocked, carrying you effortlessly. You expect it in your brain to meet the soft mattress of Satoru's bed but you are violently made aware otherwise as you flinch in his hold as your warm skin met cold countertops. "Shh baby" Suguru is kneading your thigh as Satoru settles you down, granite or marble or whatever the hell they decided to line the island with, chilling your flesh.
"S'cold," you murmur as Satoru unravels himself from your arms and you can't help but admire the pink imprint of your lips peeking out on his chest.
"Don't worry we'll warm it up," the white haired boy promises and he tugs at your legs while Suguru presses down on your shoulder, forcing you to lay flat against the counter, lights above your head, that they refused to flick on lest the bulbs blind you, so they settled for the warm glow crossing over from the light they turned on earlier that lit the back lights of the living room that connected to the open concept kitchen.
"What does that mea-" you want to question but your lips screw shut the moment you felt pressure on your desperate clit and you underwear is being lifted, pulled taught, falling against your legs in a thong like manner and he's teasing the fabric between your folds, nudging your bundle of nerves.
"Isn't she glistening," Satoru's breath fans over your bare cunt and your walls are fluttering once again, making you roll your hips in desire.
"You'll get what you want princess," Suguru muses, holding you down by your hips as he leans to stare into your pillowy folds, watching as your slick dripped in your pussy before the fabric of your underwear is snapping down, making you flinch at the sensation, back arching slightly as you whine, hands curling into fists.
"You're leaking through your underwear," Satoru comments and you could feel his thumb run over your now cloth covered cunt, the sensation making trickles of anticipation thrum up your thighs that tried to close. "Keep 'em open," he scolds and you could feel all the fight leave your lower half as he pulls your legs wide, feet planting on the top of the counter as he spread you as open as you could get, and he's smacking your cunt again, relishing in your mewl.
"Dirty girl," Suguru hums, "my pretty little slut likes getting her pussy spanked huh," he muses and you could feel yet another sharp stinging pain slamming against your clit, the strange stimulation making you wince as pleasure dribbled in, the nickname he called you making you squirm, "my baby's getting so wet," and another slap.
You could feel your chest heave, eyes bleary as you propped yourself up on your elbows only to want to throw you head back yet again at the sight of the two hungry eyed men between your legs.
Hot breath fanned over you and you couldn't help the way you whined yet again, little tuts at your impatience as they began to suckle on your thighs, grabbing the flesh between their lips as Suguru took the left while Satoru took the right.
Their mouths were hot, saliva coating your skin as the varying sensations made you writhe, Suguru biting down, teeth marks indenting into your skin before his tongue is soothing over the pain like a healing balm while Satoru burrows, lips sucking hickeys onto your flesh, keen on leaving a little art piece as he sucks, and sucks, and sucks, and sucks, the sounds of his lips making you quiver.
You couldn't help but cry out as they continued their attack, forcing yourself to succumb to underwhelming pleasure as they left your throbbing little cunt untouched and she starved for attention, dribbling as she called for them and you felt ashamed at your body's innate response.
Small pants left your kiss bitten lips as they marred your legs with their little love bites, edging closer to the rim of your pretty pink panties, tiny little bow on the waistband. "I want you," you murmur as they teased, not kissing the one spot you desperately craved.
"You have us baby," Suguru hums slyly, sucking a bruise into your skin as his thumb rubs small circles.
"I want you here though," and you slightly lift up, hands reaching for his as you brought it to your cunt, rolling your hips over his fingertips and he smiled as they grew slightly damp.
"Aren't you needy," he snickers, letting you lightly hump his hand, flattening his palm against your clothed cunt as you squirmed your hips, the heel of his hand ever so slightly nudging your clit.
"Please," you whine, "want more."
"Clearly," Satoru is grinning, straightening his posture to look into your desperate eyes, "such a horny girl," he coos, "been thinking of this all night haven't you," and he can't deny the pride panging in his chest when you nod vehemently.
"Want you," you whine as Suguru swats your hands away, fleeting touches rolling your clit, doing nothing but enticing you more.
"You've already said that," he grins, mouth a babbling broken record as you begged and his fingers are toying with the waistband of your panties, pulling them slightly down, "tell us what you want, hmm, what do you want us to do," and you could feel your face flush, his familiar words reaching your ears as he tugged down your underwear tantalizingly slow.
"Wanna have s-" you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a calming breath as they stared at you, "want you to fuck me," you murmur out instead, somehow feeling less dirty even with the more vulgar word but your hesitance only further fueled their desire for you to say it.
"Fuck you how," Satoru grins, "want my to fuck my fingers into your cunt, hmm, make you cum and then call it a night," and he practically cackles as you mewl pathetically, teary eyes gazing up at him as though the thought of one orgasm alone was heinous.
"No," you sob, feeling the cool air hit your dripping cunt and Suguru is flinging the fabric elsewhere, leaving it to be found in the morning as now, his eyes trained on you, and you alone.
"Then what do you want baby," Suguru murmurs, leaning over you to press a kiss to your collarbone, "use your words and explain clearly or we won't know," he hums, vibrations thrumming down your torso and you couldn't help the heat that pooled just by looking in his dark eyes.
"I want you," you murmur, their brows furrowing in disapproval, squirming at the light pinch on your thigh and so you continue, "want you to have s-sex with me," you fumble over the word, confession falling leadenly off your tongue, "want to make love," you say gently, recalling the sweet way Satoru murmured it to you, "want you to put your cock in my," and you gulp, feeling embarrassment creep as you felt ashamed for not being as ashamed as you should be for uttering such filthy words in front of the two boys, "in my pussy," you mumble.
"I would've just let you have it at sex," Satoru teased and you flush before he licks a stripe up your cunt, groaning at the taste.
"S-Shut up," you mumble in faux protest and his head pops up from between your thighs with a smirk.
"Gladly," and before you can even question him he's diving into your cunt, tongue lapping up your juices and you whine, not used to the sensation you've felt countless times at this point, your head is spinning as he practically makes out with your pussy, tongue delving in, pistoning itself into your cunt and you try to breathe through it, letting out every last moan knowing if you didn't you'd be denied any form of relief for hours. The torturous thought of being thrown over Suguru's thigh as he smacked your ass, until it bruised while Satoru would chime in every once and a while with a wet slap to your cunt, yet again making you squirm.
You could feel the heels on your feet release as Suguru undid the straps quickly, fingers working in ways you struggled to do, often opting having him put your shoes on for you as it took too long for you to pin the strap correctly and he always did so for you without complaint, kissing your upper thigh and now he did the same, shoes dropping with a clatter as he pressed a kiss to the tender flesh of your hickey marred thighs until he leans even further to your dripping slit.
You mewled until you were moaning at the sudden foreign feeling. "S-Sugu," you breathe out, eyes wide as you felt his lips suckle at your clit, making you shudder, both their mouths on you, both sets of eyes on you, one leg thrown over each of their shoulders as they tugged your cunt closer to their greedy mouths.
"You like that, don't you sweetheart," Satoru mocks, "could feel your pussy clench," and you furrowed your brows.
"I said shut up," you whined and before you knew it your hands were acting on their own, reaching for his head, tugging him down by the air and forcing him to your cunt, keeping him snug against your pussy and you writhed as he groaned, pretty blue eyes looking up at you hungrily.
"That was hot," Suguru comments arbitrarily grazing his teeth over your little button, flicking it with his tongue and you squirm before you are removing one hand from Satoru's head to reach for his and he smiles before leaning closer, letting you thread your fingers into his long tresses, before you are forcing him into your clit.
Your legs slightly burned from the stretch, one resting on Suguru's left shoulder while the other rested on Satoru's right, their heads burrowing into your pussy as they drank up every drop, tongues lathering before Suguru is popping off you clit to lick at your folds, cheek pressed cutely against Satoru's as they slurped you up and then.
You couldn't help but tug harshly at their hair, surprise overruling you as you whined, their mouths soon joining, tongues delving into each other's mouths as they shift their focus from you to each other before soon going back to you.
You could feel it, their tongues brush against one another between your velvety walls and you couldn't help but squirm at the thought.
The small little knot began to grow in your stomach as they continued, sloppily kissing your cunt until she was drooling in their mouths, puffy clit whining at the sensation as Suguru's nose nudged ever so slightly against it, grinning at the way you gasped, their mouths melding against your pussy in a way that could only be described as perfect, slotting against one another like two, or rather three pieces to a puzzle.
"Sugu, Toru," you warn, feeling your tummy warm as your thighs spasmed, heels digging in between their shoulder blades as their heads prevented you from closing your legs, toes curling as you grabbed at their hair, Satoru whimpering against your cunt prettily the harsher you tugged, his sounds only further fueling the tightness, "m'cumming," until it was snapping, light orgasm washing over you like waves lapping at the sea but you spilled, essence leaking over their awaiting tongues as they devoured you in earnest, you could feel your chest heave slightly as they lapped up, taking turns suckling at your slowly overwhelming clit as they continued their ministrations.
You are panting, squeezing your eyes shut as you rolled your hips, their mouths helping you ride out the last ripples until you finally are out of the blissful feeling and now watching the two boys kiss, dancing precariously as they grunted, tasting you on their tongues and it only made you gush even more.
"My girl looks so pretty when she cums," Suguru coos, pulling from Satoru's mouth, sheen lining his lips all the way to his chin, hand untangling yours from his now disheveled hair, the style he tied it in now loose as strands fell out and he pulled you to sit.
"M'sorry," you mumble, raising to toy with one of the fallen locks and the laugh he lets out makes your tummy turn as Satoru stands only to lean into Suguru's embrace, arms encircling his waist as he let one warm hand planted against your thigh, "your hair is all messy."
"That's okay," he purred, kissing your temple, "if it didn't come undone now it'd come out later," he grinned, teeth grazing that sensitive spot on your neck he found many moons ago and you are holding his head close, basking in his warmth as you caught your breath and you could hear a metallic zip and suddenly your dress loosens, "but let's take this off now, yeah," he muses pulling away as Satoru finishes the job for him, pulling up the fabric that gathered atop your hips, shimmying it off your head as your boobs fell into place and you redden at Satoru's whistle.
"A set," he chuckles deeply, "did you plan for this," he muses, the pink lacy bra you wore the same colour as the panties now abandoned elsewhere.
"Yeah right," you murmur as the white haired boy pressed a kiss to your lips once more, a chaste little brush before he ogles you so unabashedly it makes you embarrassed, his hand lifting from your thigh to gently grope you, thumb running over the flesh that filled the cup perfectly.
"You feeling okay," Suguru hums, caring gaze locking with your own and you knew what he was truly asking, could you keep going.
"Mhm," you sighed, tugging at the hem of his shirt, "m'not stopping until you've fucked me," you beam up at him, pulling him close so you could rest your head onto his chest, listening to his heart beat before staring up once more, "take this off" you yank yet again at his shirt before pulling at Satoru's as well, "I don't want to be the only one naked," you shift, feeling your slick begin to wet your thighs.
"Then take it off for me," Satoru smirks, tugging you to stand on the floor, your feet falling flat as you stared up at the two men who crowded you, body pinned between their torsos and the counter behind you. Carefully you reach out for Satoru's shirt, untucking the fabric before trying to work on the first button, focusing intently, blatantly unaware on how Suguru suckled Satoru's fingers for him as Satoru's sucked on Suguru's, soaking their digits with spit.
Undoing the very first button you felt a sharp intrusion in your cunt before two fingers were in your pussy, legs widening ever so slightly to accommodate their digits only to realize that each finger belonged to a different hand.
You mind felt blurry for a second at the thought of having both Suguru and Satoru in your cunt at once. "W-what are you doing" you whimper, biting back a gasp as their fingers worked in tandem, ramming deep into your gooey cunt as you fisted the fabric of Satoru's shirt.
"Just having fun," Suguru hums innocently.
"You just focus on what you're doing," Satoru grins and you jolted as he pushed against your g-spot.
"Fucking assholes," you squeak, feet pulling to their toes as you tried to lift off their now relentless attack, but they only followed you, sinking deep inside.
"What was that baby," Suguru coos, heel circling roughly over your puffy clit and you throw your head back with a groan, feeling electric spikes shoot beneath your skin but you try to focus on your own fingers, trying to pry each button open as they quickened their pace, forcing your toes to curl as you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth clenching as you whined in their grasp.
You wished you could just rip open his shirt but you couldn't, not with your mind puddling so quickly but to be honest even if they weren't pounding relentlessly into your cunt you wouldn't be able to regardless.
You tried to ignore the, pap, pap, pap, of your ass smacking against their hands, pace turning your legs to jelly as you tried to hold out strong, Suguru's hand on your waist, the only thing truly keeping you up as you whined out with every thrust.
"C'mon baby, thought you wanted me naked," and you shot a glare to the white haired boy who leered down at you sinisterly, grinning at the pretty little 'o' face you made as he added yet another finger, scissoring you wide. "What," he's laughing, "if you want my cock you'll have to be able to handle this much," his words sang teasingly, keen on messing with you as you struggle to undo his fourth button .
Your fidgeting fingers fumbling as you narrowly forced his shirt open a little more, his toothy grin adding fuel to your determination, even if their brutal digits was melting it quickly, as Suguru decided to join in on having two inside your cunt, as four fingers plunged deep inside your dripping pussy, body shaking in their hold as you grunted, your bra strap going loose as it slipped down your shoulder. You felt like you were melting against their insane speed, the wet, shlick, of your cunt pushing heat to your face as your breaths grew warm.
You squirmed, hips quivering as you tried to break free, but they continued their assault on your g-spot, slowly blurring eyes staring up at them as your head fell back, their conniving little smirks making you pant as Suguru leaned down to shove his tongue into your moaning mouth, suckling lightly on your tongue as he laughed at the feeling of your inability to kiss back.
"What's wrong baby, don't you want this pesky shirt off," Satoru is snickering, picking up his speed even further and you're whimpering pathetically, your cunt throbbing with wet sobs and you could feel yourself dribble down your thighs much to Suguru's amusement.
"Makin a puddle sweet girl," he's rasping so gently, "squeezing my fingers so tight," he murmurs and you try and steel yourself, pushing past your bubbling moans as you fiddled with the last button on Satoru's top, legs slowly burning as tingling ecstasy enveloped your entire form, sheer bliss threatening to consume you as your lower belly fluttered incessantly, the once foreign feeling of an orgasm slamming into you as they pulled you closer to the edge and then the button finally pops off and that overstuffed feeling is leaving you with one final thrust.
Your trembling chest shook with a heavy sob as your dewy eyes stared up at them with disdain, "w-why," and Satoru is shrugging off the sleeves of his shirt, tossing it aside as your doe eyes plead, walls clenching nothing but air as your shoulders shuddered with each cry.
"Good girl," Suguru hums into your scalp, petting your hair as he brings you into a hug, a warm embrace as he ignored the loosening knot in your stomach, the fuzzy feeling going stale and tears are welling in your waterline, falling in small streams.
You glare teary eyed, your anger pathetic as Suguru held you up so you didn't collapse to the floor as Satoru ever so kindly rips off the dark haired mans tank, revealing his rippling muscles, but even the sight of his god like physique doesn't quell the aching in your core, "m-more," you are whining, chin resting on his collar bone as you cried, "w-why'd you stop," you mewl, reaching for Satoru's hand but he wrestled in away, grabbing you by the wrist as he tilted his head oh so innocently.
"What's wrong baby," he coos so condescendingly, wiping your tears with his other hand and you only let out yet another cry.
"I was almost there," you whine, "why'd you stop."
"Stop what," Suguru soothes, murmuring the words in such a way you almost thought you were crazy and he's settling you back onto the countertop, stepping between your legs to steal a kiss, "what's got my baby so sad,"
"You!" you exclaim with a whine, hand weakly swatting at his chest, "I was almost there, was gonna cum," you whimper.
"Oh really," Satoru muses, as though he didn't feel your walls flutter as he drove you to the edge, "m'sorry," he grins so unapologetically, licking off one of your tears before plunging his fingers knuckle deep again, force making you stutter as you gasp, short quick thrusts pounding before pulling out again much to your chagrin and his amusement, "did you cum this time," he teases, saying it as though he doesn't know the exact way your pussy squeezes and your hips rolls every time you bask in your orgasm.
"Y-You're so mean," you whimper, cheek resting against Suguru's peck as he kneads the flesh of your ass, abruptly picking you up, clit rubbing against his abs and you whine.
"Awh my poor baby," he coddles you, cradling you in a close embrace as he pressed a kiss to your scalp, "let us make it up to you yeah," and you writhe with each step he took, your aching pussy running over his hard muscles as your overstimulated clit but still desperate cunt cried out for even more.
He splays you out on a soft mattress, settling you so gently instead of tossing you roughly as he's done many times before, letting the bed squeak beneath you before ravaging you roughly, but today he's much more tender with each of his movements, lips nipping at your neck as he unclasps your bra with practiced ease, tossing the garment aside as both of them dive for your chest, taking one tit in their mouth as they toyed with your nipples.
You hiccup at the sensation, cunt sliding against Suguru's still pant covered thigh as they sucked on your breasts gently, taking it at their own pace and you sigh with every roll over their tongue, fingers in their hair, relishing in the way Satoru bites down with a hiss at every tug, his sensitive scalp fun to tease and you groan as they coat you.
Suguru pulls at your nipple before letting it jiggle back into place, staring up at you, fingers collecting your slick as he pushes them in with languid thrusts, greedy hole taking every ounce of attention he gives, "are you ready," he murmurs tenderly, carefully, the teasing tone he once used as him and Satoru mercilessly attacked you no longer lingering as he held you gently, trying to quell your fears.
"Please" you mewl, rolling against his thigh as you stare at the two of them desperate, "I want to feel you," you whine, eyes pinching shut as he circled your clit, "please just fuck me," you beg pathetically and his adam's apple bobs as he stares at your vulnerable form, naked and sweaty, covered in little marks of adoration as your dripping little pussy pooled over the sheets.
"Are you sure," he mumbles with uncertainty, "we can make you cum again," he offers, eyes swimming in hesitance, careful words greeting your ears, "stretch you out for as long as you need," and he's wiping at your stray tears .
"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready (Y/N)," and Satoru uses your name, the syllables sounding foreign on his tongue as he grew accustomed to using an abundance of praising pet names.
"I want it," you assure, hands cupping both their faces, "I promise I'm ready," and it's you quelling their fears, "just," you pause, "go slow," you plead and Suguru smiles so gently it had you puddling in his hands.
"Of course," he sighs, "if don't like something I'm doing, say green," he starts and your eyes widen slightly, "if you want me to slow down or stop, say yellow, okay," and you nod, he was telling you safe words, laying out the ground rules, "and if you need me to stop completely and remove myself, say red, alright," and his tone is serious, no playfulness as he stares deep into your eyes, making sure you were paying attention, "you got that," and you nod, "words."
"Yes Sugu," you mumble, heart beginning to thump at his tender care.
"Promise to use them if you need to all right."
"Yes."
"We won't be mad," Satoru tacks on, eyes swimming with worry and you find yourself puffing out a laugh.
"You guys are acting like you'll break me, I'm not made of glass," you beam up at them, their toned muscles not scaring you off, "besides I know you won't hurt me," and their affectionate gaze had your heart skipping a beat.
Carefully you watch as Suguru unbuckles his pants, fabric dropping to the floor alongside his boxers, and he's staring at you, your chest rising and falling as you admired his dick, it was long and thick and the thought of it going inside your cunt had you quivering.
Satoru is gently cupping your face, hand grasping one of yours as he soothes you with soft kisses as Suguru's fully erect cock sprung painfully hard, his own member going ignored as he pecked your stress pinched face, "we'll take care of you," he's murmuring into your skin, coaxing out your strangled gasps as Suguru rubs himself over your slit, coating himself with your slick, his pre breading on the tip mixing with your mess as he nudged your clit shaking a whimper that Satoru attempted to calm.
"I'm going to put it in," he tells you, lining his cock up at your entrance and you nod, feeling a strange anxiety that Satoru instantly soothed only for the unease to wash over you, waves of nerves crashing into the shore before he forced them back to the sea.
"Okay," you murmur, eyes trained on his and then you felt it, an undeniable delicious stretch as his tip dips inside. "Oh fuck," you yelp, hand reaching out to intertwine with Suguru's holding both his and Satoru's tightly as they grounded you, tethering your mind as he pushed in, head inserting as you bite your lip, breathy mewls breaking past your parted lips as Suguru halts, letting you take in the feeling.
"Good job baby," Satoru is humming, licking at your chest as it huffed, your fingers tugging at Suguru's and he slowly pushes in further, your pussy squelching as he groaned, brows pinching as your velvety walls were snug around him, enveloping him tightly in your warmth as you clenched.
"Fuck sweetheart," he curses, "squeezin me too tight," he grunts, sweat building on his brow as your greedy walls took him in deeper, accommodating him quickly as he pressed kisses to your cheeks, staring at the way you slowly came undone, your trembling fingers shaking in his grasp as your flushed face whimpered, lips parted as you cried.
"S-sorry," you murmur out and he's shaking his head.
"No baby girl you're doing so good," he grunts as your gummy walls clamp down, "taking me so well, making me feel so fucking good," he groans feeling you flutter, his praises soaking you further.
"Making you feel good," your pouty lips ask as though you were questioning your own abilities and he's pressing a kiss to them
"Amazing," he reiterates, punctuating the syllables as he delved in deeper, strained grunt falling from his lips as he relished in your sinful moan.
"How much more," your stressed, eyes coating with a fresh sheen as you stared at both their faces, his dark hair falling down in a dark waterfall as pink lips sucked on your perky nipples and pressed kisses to your neck, distracting you from any pain as Suguru halted and you could feel every last ridge of his dick inside of you.
"M'not even half way," Suguru confesses and you are mewling.
"Fuck," you curse, "why are you so big," and the comment makes him swell, twitching in your cunt that instinctively squeezed in response, eliciting yet another breathy grasp from his lips
It burned as he stretched you out wider than both their joined fingers ever have, it felt like your cunt was aflame but their touches were cold, soothing your skin. The little circles Satoru rolled over your nipples had you hiccupping as you tried not to writhe, scared of somehow taking in too much all at once.
"Focus on your breathing baby," Satoru's voice is light in your ear as Suguru pushes in further, the air in your lungs struggling to circulate.
"I k-know but," you are whimpering, trying to calm this feverish feeling as all your focus stuck right to where you connected with him, and to think you were scared to masturbate at some point, "fuck, fuck, fuck," you groan, tears spilling from your eyes.
"Do you want me to slow down," he's asking from above you, his arms caging you in, securing you in a little cocoon and all you could feel was them, no other sensation processed in your bleary mind as you shook your head.
"No," you gasp, Satoru's hands running over your waist as Suguru gently strokes your cheek, "J-just keep going please," you choke, your plea forcing him deeper, "if- if," you pant, "if you don't do it now, I don't think I ever will," you whine as he nudges your g-spot, high pitched moan breaking past you lips and your back is arching, forcing your tits into Satoru's mouth as you begin to see stars, "p-please."
You were begging so beautifully for him, his cock inching inside slowly as your hands slipped from his, to fisting the sheets beneath you as you cried, he so badly wanted to snap a picture to never forget this moment, wanted to live in this sensation forever as you weeped, squeezing him tightly while his other lover suckled you so tenderly, showering you with affection. He could feel his heart constrict, the sight making him jump at the painting beneath him, hair blocking his peripherals as all he focused was on you, watching the way your face contorted, pain overpowered by pleasure as you sobbed, taking him deep within you.
"P-Please just, ngh- oh fuck, p-please just give it to me," you whimper, hand reaching up for his head and he leans into your desperate touch, falling onto your swollen lips as you tried to kiss him, forcing your desires into his mouth as he groans, your lips sucking him in just as greedily as your lower lips and he's bottoming out.
It was an easy thrust in, your soaking walls hungrily opening for him and you're moaning, gasping, writhing as you feel his balls rest heavy against your ass, "Suguru" you are mewling his name so prettily, your hips rolling, cunt squeezing, and he's soon realizing a small orgasm is washing over you, a tiny little coil snapping but it was an orgasm nonetheless, your hips grinding against him as you cried out, heavenly chest heaving and they stare at you in awe, watching as you writhe on his dick, feeling you clamp down impossibly tight.
"Did you cum pretty girl," Satoru is grinning, staring deep into you with a lovestruck gaze and your face is burning as you nod bashfully.
"Mhm," you murmur, lip wobbling as you catch your breath and Satoru is unclenching your fists from the sheets, slithering your hands over his shoulders.
"Don't be afraid to scratch his back baby," the white haired boy coos into you ear and Suguru could feel you physically tighten at his words, making him grind his teeth.
"I- don't want to hur-"
"You won't hurt him," Satoru is reassuring you and he could feel Satoru's lithe fingers unclench your white knuckled fists, trailing your nails over the toned muscles in his back, "if any thing it'll make him feel better," he's blowing a gust of air over the warm shell of your ear and you are squirming, clit rubbing against his pubes as his pelvis is snug to your body, legs resting on his hips as he stands fully inside you, letting you feel every last inch of his hardened dick, letting you cockwarm him as you cry, nails raking down his skin in pleasurable little stings.
"S-Suguru," you continue to cry, feeling unbearably full, the curve of his dick rubbing right against your g-spot, every jump of his dick making your breaths stutter. The longer you waited the longer you still felt stuffed, you expected to grow accustomed to it but be was pressed deep inside your cunt, rearranging you to fit him, molding you perfectly to his size as you sweat, feeling droplets slide down the curve of your neck as you stared deep into his hooded, purple, eyes and finally you understood what people meant when they said bedroom eyes, his dark gaze sending pinpricks up your skin.
"Is he deep inside you baby," Satoru is humming, thumb brushing your falling tears, blue catching yours with a deep seated lust.
"Mhm," you whine, biting at your lip as you stare at the lipstick mark staining his chest, watching as it rose and fell with every breath, eyes trailing to the hardened member springing in his pants, he was horny because of you, he was horny by watching the two of you, it had you dripping.
"Where do you feel him love, all the way in here," and his long hand is pressing at your stomach and you're gasping, palm pushing you deeper into Suguru, forcing your walls to contract ever tighter and perspiration is beading off his brow, lips trembling as he grunted from above you, the pressure of Satoru's hand against you both sending the two of you spiraling into overwhelming sensations. "How does she feel, huh Sugu," he's breathing against the shell of his ear, leaning up to tuck dark locks away from his face, "she squeezing you tight, bet she's warm and wet," he's pressing a kiss to Suguru's jaw, making you mewl at their chaste kisses, a devastatingly sensual film portraying in front of you, as Satoru peppered kisses down his neck, hand slipping dangerously low to where you joined and your thighs shook, trembling as you cried out, his long finger circling slowly over your abused clit, toes curling as Suguru's deep growl had you sobbing into the heated air.
"Satoru," you're whining, his languid little rubs turning your tummy as you sat perfectly tight around Suguru's aching cock, the realization feeling surreal.
"Don't you feel so good baby," Satoru continues, "don't you want to feel him move," and his thumb is tugging at your lip, prying it from your teeth, "c'mon put on a show f'me," and you are nodding, gushing at the thought of him enjoying the sight of you two.
"Sugu please," you beg, eyes alight with desire and who was he to deny your calls, gently rolling his hips, watching as you wept , pulling out ever so slightly before filling you to the brink once more, shallow thrusts filling your drooling pussy.
He was slow, lazy little thrusts delving into your cunt but you moaned at each one, gripping onto him tightly, pulling him close as he filled you. "There you go love, taking me so well," he's praising, kissing away a tear, hips slapping against your thighs, flesh reverberating as he took you tenderly, gathering every ounce of self control not to pound into you and make you scream out his name, your gummy walls sucking him back in, crying for him to come back with every inch he takes out. He was mesmerized, his dick coming out wetter with each thrust, sloppy little cries of your dripping cunt shaking around the room as you squelched for him, every little thrust had him grunting, your sucking hole keeping him tight, refusing to let go even if you knew he was just going to stuff you up once more.
"Oh- ngh," you were crying, mixture of moans and sobs as he hit your g-spot with every last thrust, hips angled as he purposefully shifted in such a way, maximizing every spark of pleasure dripping from your cunt. "Suguru," you were whimpering and he twitched as you said his name through those puffy lips of yours.
You felt out of breath, each shove of his hips knocking the air right out of your lungs and while you listened to Satoru's soft words, the overwhelming waves of satisfaction knocked all reason out of your brain each time, he was hitting you soft and slow but made your nerves wrack with pleasure all at once, it was ethereal, your expectation of pain was overshadowed by his soft grunts, sweat beading on his brow as his dark hair swiveled with each overpowering thrust. You could see it in his face, the foreboding lovestruck gaze as he gave all of himself to you, vulnerable and weak, he let you witness him bare with no restraints, the mind muddling words he whispered into your ears, praises upon praises making you gush with no remorse as wandering hands groped and pinched earning whimpers and whines.
Your chest was slick with saliva, white tufts of hair peeking into view as he suckled so intently, murmuring kind sentences as he fueled your never ending lust, his heart thumping erratically as he stared into your unfocused eyes, watching as you succumbed to the pleasure eating away at your nerves, every last reservation flying out the window with they way you erotically moaned and writhed, nails raking down Suguru's back as you tried to grapple onto your sanity, legs curling, feet pressing on his ass to force him back in, ravenous for his touch, to feel remarkably full.
Satoru could only snicker at your faces as he pressed his hand down onto your stomach, admiring the was you hissed, droplets spilling further down your cheeks as they pleasured you to lengths your mind could not comprehend, you had heard about bad sexual experiences but this was far from one of them, their carefully curated words and precise touches making you shudder and with each grip of your cunt Suguru groaned.
"S-Satoru," Suguru choked out, feeling you try and squeeze the life out of him, "you want to have a taste," he's offering, eyes swimming with unfiltered adoration as he fell in love all over again with not only you, but your body, your ability to make him feel such sensations without even trying. "Do you want that baby, huh," he's growling from above you, "want to let Satoru feel yo- oh fuck-" he grunted, words catching in his throat as you grip impossibly tighter, "guess you like that idea," he's grinning and you're panting, one hand coming to stroke at his reddened cheeks, your eyes pinching shut as he slammed into you once more.
"Just a little longer," you whine, "I won't c-cum yet, but f-fuck me a li-little longer," you plead, glassy eyes turning to stare at Satoru as you clung desperately to Suguru, "w-wait please" you whine, not wanting to let go, you wanted them both, wanted to try both their impossibly huge dicks but you knew that if you let Suguru go now you wouldn't feel him for the rest of your night, you knew that whenever your orgasm inevitably crashed upon you, you'd be out of the game so you had to force yourself to hang on, keep yourself from falling off the cliff.
"Love on Suguru as much as you want baby," he's whispering into your ear, deep drum of his voice sending pin pricks up your skin, "I don't mind," and he flashes you a bright toothy grin ,"I'll be here when you're ready", and you are thankful he's so understanding, that even with his greedy tendencies he was so willing and patient with the two of you, so respondent to your needs, so eager to share, happy to sit back and watch while he let his hands roam, touching your plush skin to his hearts content, feeling him already begin to grow love drunk off of merely hearing the symphony of songs his two lover sang into his ears.
You smile at him so tenderly it has him leaning in for a kiss that you struggle to reciprocate but bathe in nonetheless, letting yourself be showered in their abundant affections and as he pulls away he almost loses it on the spot as you begin reeling, eyes rolling back as you moaned loudly, large, smack, reverberating as Suguru pulled his entire length in before driving inside with such force your entire body trembled, body jerking as your back arched and then he's doing it again, forcing you empty before ramming right against your g-spot, hitting it so perfectly that your limbs begin to melt, fingers grabbing and flexing, no longer knowing what to do as shockwaves rippled out through your figure.
"Oh, fuck -god Sugu, Suguru," you are crying, arms snaking around his neck to pull him into a tight embrace, rolling hips never ceasing as he's flush against you, chest to chest as Satoru toys with your hair, kisses touching your forehead as you try to find some form of clarity in the jumbled mess of your vision.
"You like that my pretty girl," and he's doing it again, your entire body quaking as you jolted, "pretty pussy squeezin me every. single. time." and he's punctuating his words with pistons of his hips, thrusts slow but rough as he kisses you so tenderly you were malfunctioning, his touches light but his thrusts monstrous.
"Sugu y-you hafta stop," you're writhing, clawing at him as Satoru started rolling your clit, pleasure attacking you as you whined, "m'gonna cum, gonna," you tearfully admit as Satoru is licking off the salty rivulets.
"Then cum baby," he whispers, "let go for us."
"B-But."
"Let Suguru feel you pussy clench around him as you orgasm, yeah pretty girl," and he's rolling your clit quicker, forcing you to the edge and the, pap, pap, pap, of Suguru's thighs hitting your ass echoed out into the room, the wet shlick and whimpers of your cunt sending your vision fuzzy as hands tweaked and rubbed.
"I-" you whimper as Suguru pushes you to your unbelievable climax, legs shuddering as you begin to fall, knot snapping, waves crashing, lights flickering beneath your skin, bulbs shattering from the growing heat and you are orgasming, cumming harder then you ever had before as he's undoubtedly fucking you through the sensation, hips rolling as he groans and you could barely hear a word, sinful noises falling deaf upon your cotton plugged ears as electric currents swam out from your dripping cunt.
Your toes are curling, fingers pulling into fists, as you shudder, dissolving into your crashing orgasm, white lights clouding your vision as you gasp quietly, lips parted in a silent scream as he rocks you over, and over, and over again, body tingling as you ride it out before suddenly you are, groaning, whining, mewling, pornographically moaning, sound after sound spilling from your lips as your sudden high begins to slow, but his hips are moving, he's moaning above you and you could feel him jump, dick jerking ever so slightly as his thrusting hips are chasing his own high, pace frantic before there's a stutter and he's cumming, your hips rolling against his as you slowly fell while he was at the peak.
It was hot, thick spurts filling your cunt and you could only clench as you milked every lost drop, taking everything he gave you as he filled your ravenous cunt, greedy gummy walls sucking until he had nothing left to give and he's panting, chest heaving and the two of you are left, heavy breaths filling the space as you pant in tandem and you shudder at the wet feeling of Satoru's tongue, lapping up your mixed juices.
"Suguru you're are spilling," he coos against your skin, tongue slurping before he's kissing up you body while Suguru's lips are hot on your own.
"So good baby, so fucking good," and they fill your bleary brain with consistent praise but despite your cunt aching she was still greedy for more, and so your hands are leaning for Satoru, palming the large tent staining the front of his pants wet.
"Mo-More," you are gasping.
"Pretty girl don't push yourself," he's grabbing your fingers and you shake your head at his concerned blue eyes.
"Satoru give it to me, please," you whimper, "please, please, please, fill me up," and Suguru is chuckling from above you, kissing your cheek before he's slowly pulling out, but your legs constrict around his torso, body and mind fighting as your greed wanted to give you Satoru but your cunt refused to fall empty.
"Baby," Suguru's cooing so gently, "let me go yeah, let Satoru have a taste, you want him too don't you, begging so nicely," and his thumb is running over your cheek, one hand coming to untangle your legs and every inch out is eliciting a reluctant whimper, tears welling. "Toru's gonna fill you up so well after baby, just a couple seconds is all," and he's dragging himself out, walls trying to trap him between your thighs but his urge to see Satoru fuck you was far too strong to succumb to your whims, he wanted to know what types of face his companion would make and soon he's fully out, leaving you writhing on the sheets as his eyes watch his cum slowly spill from your lips, fingers parting your folds as he watched white dribble out from your thighs, staining the sheets.
"My baby is so hot," Satoru whimpered, thumb rolling at your cunt, relishing in the way your walls clenched and more of the little gift Suguru left behind for you leaked out.
"Toru," you're whining ,fingers grasping, pulling him closer as your sweaty and jittery legs wrapped around him, sucking him close, trapping him to your body, but he doesn't mind, no not at all, he loves it all, from the way Suguru is pulling of his pants for him, to the way his large hand is stroking his dick, Suguru's chin resting on his shoulder, dark hair tickling his skin as he collects some of your slick before rubbing it over his dick, and Suguru fisting him, coating him in the mixture pooling between your thighs and suddenly you're gasping as Suguru lines him up, teasing his tip between your folds, and Satoru is whining, heavy hands controlling his movements, setting him up, pushing him in and he's moaning, mewling as you grab onto him, velvety walls warm and tight as Suguru is forcing him further, slowly inching his dick inside and he watches as your eyes roll back, bathing in the slow entrance as he filled you, up, and up, and up until you're clawing at his back.
"He's still got more left baby," Suguru is laughing and you are crying, his head already so far into your stomach and yet he still has so much left while Satoru is squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to blow his load immediately into your soaking and squeezing cunt.
You are writhing by the time he's bottoming out and the white ring at the base of his dick made him grow even harder. "That's a good girl," Suguru is praising, thumb rubbing over your hip bone as Satoru struggled to remain composed between your thighs and he's wondering how Suguru had lasted so long, especially with how every clench of your walls made him jump, before you are wrapping around him even tighter, "look at you taking every last inch of our little angel's long cock," Suguru's smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheeks that were dribbling with even more tears, eyes beginning to grow sore as the salty rivulets persisted.
He can't think, not with the way you are hugging him so tightly, the fit so snug it had him seeing stars and you're no better, greedy post-orgasmic cunt weeping but clinging tightly, desperate for more, your brain is no more than a puddle, eyes blurry as you watched in bliss how his blue eyes stared down at you, so pussy drunk even after a mere few minutes of just staying stagnant inside your cunt.
You both gasp, mewling in tandem as Suguru plants his hands on Satoru's hips before lightly pistoning his dick inside you, both of you jerking as Satoru clenched his teeth, whimpering loudly as you whined. "Yellow" you moan and Suguru is forcing his pace to a stop, Satoru's love flooding eyes staring down at you as Suguru gazes at your flushed face, "can't," you choke, "don't move please," you cry out.
"Do you want me to get out," Satoru is asking gently but your legs are quick to wrap around him, weak limbs mustering enough strength to pushing him against you as your hands reach to cup his face.
"No," you whine as though the thought was horrific, "j-just" you sigh, chest heaving and Suguru is tucking hair strands behind your ears, "stay," you murmur, you knew you wouldn't be able to handle more than one overwhelming orgasm, body still feeling the after effects of your rushing climax but despite your brain telling you no, your body still yearned for more, "please."
"For as long as you need love," and he's kissing along your chest, Suguru's lips joining his barrage of pampering kisses and he's falling in love with the way you gasp and jerk when they find those sweet little spots that always had you reacting so prettily.
"m'sorry Toru."
"Don't say that baby," he's shifting his head, taking one of the hands your patted against his cheeks to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as he intertwines your fingers, "should be thanking you for letting me feel you," he's groaning, "squeezin me so tight," he's smiling, brain buzzing.
"wanna make you feel good."
"You are," it was instant, "pretty girl it's taking all my concentration not to cum right now," and he's gritting his teeth, the sweat slipping down his neck evidence of that, and he's moving your hand to his chest and you could feel his erratic heartbeat, and between your fingertips lay your lipstick stain.
"Suguru," you are calling, his head lifting from your neck, "you should fuck Toru too," you offer and you could feel the boy twitch.
"F-Fuck," he's gasping, blue eyes staring at Suguru who licked his lips, and his hand is trailing towards his ass, thick fingers running over the rimmed hole and Satoru is grabbing at your skin, "baby why."
"W-Wanna see you cry too," you confess, "want Sugu to make love to you too," and you're smiling, lovestruck little grin painting over your lips as you pieced together your little fantasy, "wanna watch a show too."
"What d'ya say my love," and Suguru is kissing his shoulder, "you want me in here," and his finger is tapping against his ass and he bites his lip, eyes pinched shut as he nods bashfully.
"Y-yes, oh- yes please," and he's choking on his words as your walls clamp down, cunt still reactive and he can't help the way he's falling pliant to your smile, he rarely ever denies you, and if this is what you want, then this is what you'll get.
He could hear it, the bedside drawer rumble and with practiced ease Suguru finds the little bottle of lube, the click of the lid making him quiver in anticipation as you stare up at him happily, blissed out as you warm his cock.
You knew the two have fucked before, after all they've put on a show for you on more than one occasion, Satoru's mouth usually full of your cunt while Suguru rammed into him but this time instead of leaning over to suck him off with your mouth, your pussy was already full, excited to feel every twitch and jump, ready to watch every pretty little face he made as he stuffed you so deliciously full, dick reaching parts of your body you didn't know existed, and while you couldn't handle him thrusting you desperately wanted this.
It was the way his lips parted into an, 'o,' tears almost instantly forming as Suguru's fingers slipped inside his hole, fingers scissoring him open and your blurry vision slightly focused as you gazed at them intently, listening to the lewd squelch his ass made before a large smack reverberated and he was jerking in your cunt, making you moan in surprise as he nudged your g-spot.
"S-sorry baby," he's looking down at you with worry despite it being Suguru who spanked him so abruptly, the fingers fucking his ass making his legs tremble.
"Don't apologize," you hum, "feels good," and while you couldn't handle full thrusts his shallow little jerks had you reeling in pleasure, cunt stuffed deliciously as you enjoyed the view, pussy drooling as his hips fucked Suguru's cum back up into you.
Part of you expected to fall into a deep slumber, for your brain to blank but even with your mushy mind you found small ounces of focus to gather, desire overruling fatigue as you listened to his perfect little whines, mewling with each shudder of his thighs, balls resting heavy against your ass while Suguru stretched him open.
He's resting on his elbows, caging you in as his hitched breaths shuddered in his chest, your nipples barely grazing each other as his face hovered above yours, drunken gaze peering down at you as you stroked his flushed face, basking in the way his lips met your palm, "oh god," he's groaning, breath fanning across your face as he squirms, light twitches making you cry out in tandem.
"There you go," Suguru is humming, "you think you can take me pretty boy," and he's leaning down, chest over his back as he whispers into the reddened shell of his ear, finger's fucking quickly into his rimmed hole.
"P-Please," he's whining, head twisting to the side, pressing needy weak kisses to Suguru's lips and you gazed in awe as two undoubtedly beautiful men made out above you, sharing intimacy in the closed confines of this room.
You feel the exact moment when Suguru is forcing his way in, the heavy shudder of the limbs above you as he whines, two thick fingers in his slobbering mouth as the bed jerks, mattress squeaking as instead of the tender little languid thrusts Suguru pampered your pussy with, he was sending the bed quaking , Satoru's body rocking above you as every thrust nearly sent him flying.
"Oh fuck- ngh, Suguru," he's mewling, bleary eyes never leaving your own as he quivered above you, forceful pistons into his ass shaking him in your drooling cunt, the went cries of your pussy coating his length while Suguru went in for yet another round, forcing mind boggling pleasure into both his lovers.
One hand rubs over the apple of his cheek while you slither the other to the nape of his neck, scratching as his undercut before tugging lightly and he's sobbing, head jerking back as shockwaves thunder beneath his skin ."Baby please," he's whimpering, tears dripping down from his blue eyes and onto your skin and his pathetic little face only brought a smile to your lips.
"Ma-Makin me feel so good," you whine, voice high pitched and breathy as the springs creaked beneath you, jolts tremoring throughout his body as every plunge had his ass reverberating against Suguru's toned thighs.
It was the wet sinful sounds as each smack had you reeling, force in turn making Satoru jerk over, and over, and over, rutting against your g-spot so frantically as despite coming wholly undone on Suguru's cock his hips angled perfectly, pleasing you while bathing in his own satisfaction.
"Satoru fucking you good princess," Suguru is cooing and you gush at his words, body folding as he leaned low over Satoru's shoulder, pressing himself snug to his ass before leaning past white hair to find your swollen lips.
Satoru's face was pushed down, burrowing between you tits as Suguru grinded against him, pressing your mouths together, drinking up every last whine you had to give before pulling away, satisfied with your fucked out little face.
You could feel it rising, a small little tidal wave beginning to grow larger as your orgasm quickly approached, overstimulated and abused little cunt accelerating to yet another climax and his whines spoke volumes as he chased his own high.
"M'gonna," he's slurring, tongue lolling out as his dewy eyes sparkled, "gonna," and a hand is yanking at his throat, pulling him up by the neck and suddenly he is forced up, back pressed to Suguru's chest, light fixtures painting the edges of his snowy white hair golden as a halo formed above your overstimulated little angel, dark hair dancing across his shoulders as heavy hands squished his cheeks together, pink lips puckering as Suguru forced his mouth onto his .
They were cinematography at its finest, a lewd little film complete with heartthrob actors sculpted beautifully by the heaven's above. "Look at you," Suguru is growling, forcing his unfocused eyes to stare at the creamy white ring at the base of his cock, "makin such a mess," and your ass is being smacked.
"Suguru," Satoru is crying, "d-don't," he choking out as your gummy walls grip down tightly in surprise.
"Why what's wrong," he's teasing, "is our pretty baby making you feel too good, squeezing your dick just right," and you jump as he circled your puffy clit, imminent knot growing tighter as your greedy walls encircled him.
"B-Baby please, lo-loosen up," and his palms are frantically patting at your thighs, constricted by Suguru's hands as they peered down at your fucked out form. "I can't, gonna," fresh tears spilling down his cheeks, pornographic little sounds breaking past his lips.
"Cum f'me baby," you are whimpering, hands reaching to trace over the contours of his abs, "want you to fill me up," and suddenly he's falling off the cliff, white ropes shooting into the depths of your cunt, painting your walls as he shuddered, body jerking in your touch as he stuttered, twitching but his hips keep rolling, grinding as you listen to Suguru's grunts, hips rutting until his eyes are fogging over, grip tightening as also rode out his high.
"C'mon Satoru," he still finds his words, brain still working unlike the melting puddle in your head, "let our pretty baby climax again yeah," and his hips are shuddering, Satoru frantically pawing at your skin as he slumped forward, chest to yours as his mouths found your neck and his dick pounded against that one spot, Suguru's fingers working at your clit as you lay there and took it, quivering as finally you were climaxing, orgasm wracking your figure until you were blanking.
You don't remember falling asleep, don't recall exactly when your eyes shut but obviously they did because now they were blinking open, fatigue ridden lids fighting as your brain resurfaced to consciousness, there is a gentle splash as you grumbled, throat hoarse, limbs still gooey but even your blurry eyes could register the sight of the steaming water rolling over your body, tender touches spreading soap as you soaked into a heavy embrace.
"Are you awake pretty girl," it's careful, quiet and you turn ever so slightly, aching neck craning to look up at hickey painted skin before blue eyes are staring down at you fondly. "You feeling okay," he's asking and you merely hum, throat too scratchy to speak. Your body was throbbing, water doing little to ebb away the soreness between your legs but you felt unexpectedly clean, stickiness no longer permeating your inner thighs and you can't recall in your hazy memory being washed up, but you must've been by gentle hands.
"Do you want to get out love," it was Suguru, he was standing outside the tub, towel draped around his hips, the ends of his hair damp, "you're all cleaned up," he's cooing, voice gentle, a soothing balm for your aching limbs.
"Mhm," you whine, eyes slowly falling closed and you could feel Satoru haul you up out of the water, body trapped in his embrace before the sloshing stops and wet feet are hitting tile. The bite of the cold air was quickly fought off, fluffy towel patting against your skin and suddenly you are standing but not really, jelly legs pushing all the weight onto Satoru as he held you up as Suguru gathered the droplets from your skin, you barely blink your vision open and you are staring at your figure in the steam filled mirror, all you can see are the abundance of love bites loitering your skin, marring your neck, trailing from your chest to your stomach and ending at your thighs.
You feel them pulse beneath your flesh but it's comfortable, warm and blurry as your bare body made contact with uncovered chests of your lovers as they coddled you, and as Suguru faces you your eyes catch sight of the long red lines trailing along his back before you are settling into your fatigue, letting them care for you as they pampered your tired form, dressing you slowly, pulling up comfortable cotton undies and a large shirt, you're in an embrace, carried to some other plush bed that was probably Suguru's, settled in a lap as a rim is pressed to your lips, cup tilting as cold water filtered down your raw throat, the chilling relief soothing the persisting ache before a heavy duvet is draping over your body, capturing you in warmth as limbs quickly tangled in your own.
You're aching, throbbing but they are quick to try and soothe with kisses and quiet words and before you can fall to a comfortable rest, Satoru's asking, "so what's the answer to your question," and you part your kiss bitten lips, licking at the skin as you nuzzled deeper into their arms.
"You already know," it's a light hearted tease and you can feel his chest vibrate with a chuckle.
"Well let us know if you have any more questions," Suguru's grinning.
The subject of physical intimacy never really felt like a taboo topic for you, especially when you were only discussing it with your two close friends, and they were eager to answer every last one.
Recommendations for societies with mixed halfling/human races follow. The average halfling is assumed, from demographic estimates, to weigh 30 pounds (14 kg) and stand approximately 3 feet (1 meter) tall.
All public places where people are expected to be seated need a mix of regular/small seating. Ideally, all chairs and tables will be adjustable, but this comes with cost considerations.
All doors must be accessible for people of all sizes. This presents a challenge for doorknobs and door handles, and the recommendation is a long vertical bar accessible for both, along with low "minimum force" levels for opening and closing. Problems with locking mechanisms remain, and while floor bolts are height-neutral, they're more suited to secondary locking mechanisms.
All restaurants, cafeterias, and vending machines should stock two differently sized portions. The average halfling consumes roughly a third the amount of food as a human. Because of various frictions (packaging, labor), prices are expected to be more than one third for a halfling portion. Because of this, it's best to have systems in place that allow splitting human-sized dishes, or bringing home leftovers, or making packages resealable.
Housing presents a serious problem. A single-family dwelling for a halfling family requires roughly one fifth the volume as for a single-family human dwelling, though costs do not scale down at the same rate. However, if built to halfling scale, the interior of the dwelling will only be accessible to halflings, which presents serious problems for e.g. police, firefighters, social workers, repairmen, or anyone else who might have cause to go into the interior of the home, to say nothing of friends and coworkers. Building for halfling scale is attractive for a variety of reasons, with cost being one of the biggest, but this might result in de facto segregation, and puts considerable strain on civic infrastructure and city markets due to duplication. Another social concern is that all interactions might, by default, take place inside human homes which have worse accommodations for halflings. Special note should also be made of mixed-species couples, who suffer extra burdens within the household. These problems are intractable, as some trade-off must always be made.
Tools, household goods, and clothing are naturally split into two markets. For clothing, near-complete segregation is expected. For everything else, partial segregation is expected: a halfling cannot effectively use many human tools due to differences in grip strength and grip circumference, to say nothing of brute strength. However, many consumables can suit both species, and it's expected that cost reduction efforts will inevitably result in a single offering for both in cases where that remotely makes sense. Purchases using refillable containers from bulk are encouraged, as each person can determine what's best to fulfill their own needs.
Due to lower costs (housing, food, clothing), halflings can in theory work for lower wages. For certain jobs, particularly those requiring physical strength, humans are more capable on average, and for others, particularly those requiring manual dexterity, halflings are more capable on average. For jobs which do not have significant differences, wage discrimination is recommended but contentious, and is an ongoing conversation.
There are a number of "segregationist forces" in society, driven by convenience, culture, and market forces. Once any level of segregation happens, there is every expectation that it will snowball: a neighborhood which is inaccessible to humans will have businesses that cater only to halflings, and once halfling business is concentrated, any "mixed" business has less incentive to cater to halflings. Legislation can counterbalance these forces by requiring that all businesses be able to service both humans and halflings, and accommodate both human and halfling services, but this admittedly comes at enormous cost.
Overall, there are certain recommendations that are nearly costless and can be implemented as best practices immediately, and more complicated, costly reforms that will take significant political will and budgetary consideration. Beyond that, there are questions of social engineering and the level to which it is important or preferable that these things be done.
