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science-hoes · 2 months ago

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You Are In Love: Chapter One

Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical medical descriptions, a dad joke, VERY FLUFFY

Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four (Juno)

Description: Jack needs the reader to help him with a VIP patient, but she soon learns about his chosen family.

Jack Abbot Masterlist

——

Jack Abbot was the reason you wanted to go into emergency medicine. Watching him under pressure was like watching an Olympian in their medal-winning sport. He handled every case with control and diligence, and that lured you into the specialty even more. It only took one medical school rotation with him to know that you wanted to play the game.

So now, in your third month of your internship, you spent nearly every moment with Jack Abbot on the night shift. You rarely had a different attending. The scheduling gods seemed to be in your favor. Of course, you had gotten to know everyone else on staff. You had made friends with the other residents and attendings. Dana had become your favorite charge nurse. Even the social workers were happy to see you walk through the doors.

You arrived an hour early for your night shift, hoping to practice some more suturing in the skills lab before shift change. Just as you were about to escape the doctors lounge and head to the lab, a voice called out behind you.

“Hey, kid, I could use your help.”

You turned to see Jack pulling a pair of gloves off and tossing them in the trash. “Oh, hi.” You replied as you walked toward him. “What are you doing here this early?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, that smug asshole smile on his face. “I could ask you the same.”

You shrugged. “I was gonna go to the skills lab and suture. But not if you need me.”

He nodded and pressed a hand on your back as he lead you to one of the Central rooms. “We have a VIP.” He explained.

He swung the curtain open to reveal a little girl with long, dark hair and big brown eyes. You’d seen those eyes before…

“Uncle Jack!” The five year old exclaimed at the sight of your attending.

It was like magic, the way Jack’s usual stoic demeanor turned into one that would rival a Disney hero. “Hey, princess!” He returned her enthusiasm, a wide grin on his face. He dropped to his knees in front of the child and grabbed her tiny hands in his. “What are you doing here, huh?” He took a quick glance at the mother, who was holding a small blue bundle in her arms.

“I’m hurt.” The child replied, albeit vaguely.

The young woman let out a strained sigh. “We were at the park, and Eliza jumped out of the swing when she saw some older kids do it. Landed on her arm.” She explained.

Jack nodded, giving a don’t-blame-yourself look to her. Then his eyes flicked back to Eliza. “Can I see your arm, please?” He asked, a voice so gentle that it had to have been someone else’s. A moment of hesitation from the child. Then a head-tilt from the silver-haired man. “Uncle Jack is gonna make it all better.” He promised.

That seemed to convince her because she slowly, feebly presented her swollen arm. Jack delicately held the arm in his hands and examined it.

“Bump her up to next in line on X-ray. We’ll get her some IV morphine to help her relax. Could need realignment and screws.” He said to you.

Just as you were about to walk out of the room, you bumped into someone rushing into the room. A mumbled apology was the only thing you heard before a shrill “Daddy!”

You turned to see Michael Robinavitch kneeling to the ground in front of the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart!” He greeted.

Oooh. VIP. This was Robby’s family. The patient was Robby’s daughter. You left while the family reunited to order the X-Ray. When you turned to enter the room again, Dana was leading Robby’s wife, who held a tiny baby, to the cafeteria.

“X-Ray order is in. Next in line.” You announced to the attendings.

Jack gave you a thumbs up. He was sorting out the materials needed for IV morphine. He pulled the butterfly needle out of the packaging, and like clockwork, Eliza began to cry. Robby knelt to meet his daughter’s eyes, the ones that were a perfect mirror of his. “Sweetheart, look at me. Look at me.” He whispered. “We have to get you the medicine so your arm will stop hurting, okay? Just a quick poke.”

Eliza shook her head, more tears streaming down her face. “Daddy, please, don’t do it.” She begged. “Don’t hurt me.”

And if you’d never seen a man’s heart break in real time, the look on Robby’s face would be ingrained in your memory forever. His body seemed to go limp at his daughter’s words, unable to insert the needle if he tried. Jack quickly intervened, kneeling next to Robby. “Daddy isn’t gonna hurt you.” He assured the child. “He’s gonna hold you while Uncle Jack gives you the medicine. Does that sound okay?”

Eliza still continued to cry. You remember being her age and having a paralyzing fear of needles. So, you stepped forward to distract from the two pathetic men on the ground. “Hey, baby. I’m gonna show you how it works, okay?” You said.

You grabbed the blue elastic tie from the tray and wrapped it around your forearm. “First, Uncle Jack is gonna wrap this around your arm. It’s gonna give you a big hug for a few minutes!”

You picked up the alcohol swab package and opened it. “Then, he is just going to give your hand a little bath to get it all clean. Like this.” You said, swiping the wipe across the back of your hand. “See? All clean!”

You tossed the wipe and grabbed the J-tip, pressing it on the cleaned part of your hand. “Then, he’s going to give you a stamp that makes your hand tingle. What’s your favorite soda?” You continued.

Eliza followed your every move with an intense curiosity. “Sprite.” She sniffled.

You smiled. “When Uncle Jack gives you the stamp, it’s going to sound like you’re opening a Sprite can. It’s just air.” You explained.

Eliza nodded, rubbing chubby fingers across her wet eyes. You reached for the butterfly needle after placing the J-tip back on the tray. “Last, he’s going to let this little butterfly give you a kiss where the stamp was.” You finished, inserting the needle into one of your own veins. “See? It doesn’t hurt!” You lied through your teeth. It always hurt more to get an IV on the back of your hand, but that was Eliza’s best bet.

You yanked the blue tie off your arm, then removed the butterfly needle. “Think you can let Uncle Jack try now?” You asked.

Eliza didn’t answer, but she didn’t protest either. You smiled, motivated mostly by pride, and looked to your senior attendings. Both men stared back at you. Robby with a look of relief, mostly because you got his daughter to calm down. But Jack…you couldn’t read the look on his face. He broke your gaze to pat Robby on the back, standing up with him.

“Alright, princess, let’s get you that medicine.” He said, grabbing a fresh butterfly needle.

Robby sat on the bed, crossing his legs, and pulled Eliza carefully into his lap. He cradled the little girl in his arms, using his free hand to smooth her dark hair as she whimpered. “Shh…Daddy’s got you.” He soothed.

Eliza melted into her father’s embrace, blinking slowly when he brushed stray tears from her reddened cheeks. Jack tenderly grabbed her uninjured arm and wrapped the blue tie around her forearm still loose. “Alright, Eliza. You’re about to feel that big hug, okay?” He explained, then pulled the blue tie snug.

A small sound of discomfort escaped the child, but she remained docile in her father’s arms. Jack traced the tiny veins on the back of her hand and found his target. When he turned around to reach for an alcohol swab, you already had it ready for him with an outstretched hand. For a brief moment, Jack was caught off guard, but he took the swab from your palm, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin for a beat longer than normal.

“Now, let’s give your hand that cold bath.” He said.

Jack rubbed the wipe across his tiny workspace, and Eliza let out the smallest, softest giggle. Robby smiled, probably for the first time since he stepped foot into the room. “That tickle? Yeah?” He teased. Eliza nodded, just a little bit.

“You ready for that Sprite can sound?” Jack asked, once again reaching, and you already met him halfway with the J-tip.

“Yeah.” Eliza whispered, her face half nuzzled into Robby’s chest, but still enough to keep an eye on Jack’s movements.

Jack placed the J-tip over the vein he wanted, and just like you said, it sounded like a can of Sprite opening, minus the sugary fizz that followed. Eliza jerked her hand pack at the odd sensation of carbon dioxide shooting across her skin. Robby reached his finger under her palm for her to grasp, and she did, just like she always had since she was born.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He said softly.

Jack rubbed the spot on the back of her hand. “Once it starts working, we’re gonna let that butterfly land on it, okay?” He explained.

“And it will give me a kiss?” Eliza asked, looking to you, her source of information.

Jack and Robby both chuckled, and the latter pressed a kiss to her hair. “Yeah, just like that.” He replied.

Eliza giggled, but in her joy, she shifted and moved her broken arm. The laughs quickly turned to screams of pain again, and Jack winced.

“Oh, you gotta be still, princess. We’re almost ready for the medicine.” He said. Then, he leaned in, like he was trying to keep his voice from Robby’s earshot. “You know, if you keep being a brave girl, once you’re all healed up, you can come to my house and go swimming.” His voice was playfully sly.

The cries reduced, just a little. “I can?” She blubbered.

Jack nodded. “Sure. As long as your mommy and daddy say it’s okay.” He replied, glancing up at Robby, hoping he didn’t just make a promise outside of his power.

Robby smiled and nodded. “Of course. You need to show Uncle Jack how you can swim without floaties now.” He said.

Jack’s eyes blew comically wide. “Without floaties? Only big girls can swim without floaties.”

Eliza nodded, her bottom lip still quivering, but a glint of pride was in her eyes. The same one you’d seen in Robby’s eyes many times. “Can Abby come, too?” She asked.

Jack nodded, a smile playing at his lips. “Absolutely. We’ll have a pool party.” He reached back for the butterfly needle, and once again, the brush of your fingers against his. He kept it out of Eliza’s view, continuing to hold her hand. “Your daddy and I will grill some hamburgers and hot dogs. You can teach Abby how to swim. We’ll invite Nana, too.”

Eliza didn’t even flinch when Jack inserted the butterfly needle. You carefully concealed your morphine syringe and connected it to the line. But just as you could see her entire body relax in Robby’s arms from the push of meds, she looked to you with those big brown eyes. “Are you gonna come to the pool party?” She asked.

You froze, unsure of how to answer. Does an invitation from a five-year-old have enough warrant to show up at your boss’ house? Jack placed a hand on your back, lower than he probably meant to. “Yes, she’ll be there, too.” He confirmed for you.

You snapped your head to his direction. Those hazel eyes bore into you, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. In that silence, he winked at you, a smug smile on his face.

“Uncle Jack, she’s pretty.” The little voice broke your small moment.

Your eyes widened, heat crawling up your neck. Robby let out an involuntary sound, a mixture of a laugh and a choke. But Jack never looked away from you. In fact, he doubled down with, “I know.”

Before you could melt away in a puddle of embarrassment and giddiness, the curtain swung open, revealing Dana and Robby’s wife, still cradling a tiny bundle.

“Nana!” Eliza sluggishly squealed.

Dana leaned over and gently tickled Eliza’s shoulders. “There’s my girl!” She exclaimed.

You tilted your head, confused by the connection. “Nana?” You questioned.

Robby chuckled. “Eliza couldn’t say ‘Dana’ when she was little, so she kept calling her Nana.” He explained.

Dana gave you a stern but playful look. “Keep in mind that I am not old enough to be a real Nana.” She stated.

Jack raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “I know plenty of people your age who are grandmothers.” He said.

Dana pointed a finger at him and jabbed his chest. “How would you like to lose another foot?” She threatened.

Your jaw dropped at the comment. That wasn’t allowed, right? Surely, that crossed some kind of line. But Jack just chuckled and swiped her hand away.

“I’d love to. I’ll be one step closer to becoming a robot.” He replied. “Literally.”

Robby’s wife groaned at the unfortunate pun. “Please, stop. I already have to listen to Robby and his dad jokes.” She begged.

Robby grinned proudly. “Yeah, leave it to the professionals.” He teased, but his eyes moved to the bundle his wife was holding. “How’s my little man doing?” He asked.

She smiled and moved to sit on the bed next to Robby and Eliza. “He’s been a sleepy boy all day. Better than testing out his lungs though.” She leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder as she spoke. “How’s my big girl?”

Eliza grinned sheepishly when her mom reached to gently pinch her rosy cheeks. “Uncle Jack said we can have a pool party at his house.” She stated, beginning to slur her words in sleepiness. “He said Nana can come. And he said Abby can come.”

Dana chuckled. “Still calling him Abby, huh?” She asked.

Robby smiled, shifting so that Eliza could rest horizontally as she began to doze off. “We’re working on it.” He answered. “Somewhere she learned that nickname. Can’t imagine from who.” He joked.

Jack huffed and moved to where Robby’s wife sat, offering his pinky to the baby boy’s tiny hand, activating his palmar grasp reflex. “Have they been desecrating our name, buddy?” He asked, a lilt in his voice. “Us Abbots are fighters. We don’t take shit from anybody.”

Dana’s swat at Jack’s shoulder for cursing in front of Eliza and his following defense of “She’s asleep!” didn’t distract you from your new piece of information.

“He’s an Abbot?” You questioned, a feeling of warmth in your chest.

Robby’s wife smiled. “Michael Abbot Robinavitch. We stuck with Michael for about a week, but…” She trailed off, looking to her husband.

Robby’s shoulders hunched a bit. “She calls me Michael when I’m in trouble. I got a little scared every time she said his name.” He admitted, but his smile remained. “So we settled on Abbot.”

Jack carefully cradled Abbot as Robby’s wife passed him over. His tanned biceps that strained against the sleeves of his scrub top made the baby look incredibly small. He slowly walked over to you, his right foot stepping heavier as usual, his eyes focused on the baby. A deep smile graced his lips. And just on the edges framing the smile were huge dimples. You wanted to save that image forever. You brushed a finger against the baby’s tiny hand, smiling when he moved in response.

Meanwhile, Robby was elbowed by his wife, who exchanged an excited but knowing glance with Dana at the sight of you and Jack sharing that unintentionally tender moment. All he did was nod in response, eyebrows raised in a silent confirmation.

“Why Abbot? Is Jack that important?” You teased.

Dana threw her hands up in exasperation. “Thank you!” She said. “That’s what I said. I’m still waiting for a little Dana.”

“Working on it.” Robby said with a wink, quickly receiving an elbow in the ribs from his wife.

“Michael!” His wife hissed.

Robby cowered slightly at his birth name. Jack nodded his head towards them. “See? That’s why this is Abbot.” He said.

You giggled and gently ran a hand over the baby’s soft hair near his forehead, afraid to venture too far back towards the fontanelle. “Well, Abbot is very cute.” You complimented.

A simultaneous “Thank you” filled the room. One genuine, from Robby’s wife. The other facetious, from Jack. Laughter filled the room, and you felt oddly a part of a family. Their family.

Perlah entered the room with a pediatric wheelchair. “X-ray is ready for Eliza.” She said, smiling at the sight before her.

Robby stood carefully, holding his daughter snug against his chest. “I’ll go with her. We can walk.” He said and followed Perlah out of the room.

As if it were a snap back to reality, Jack walked back over to Robby’s wife and carefully transferred Abbot back to her arms. “I’m gonna go check on that DUI kid in Central Four.” He said before looking over to you. “Go ahead and get the cast materials ready. She’s gonna want pink.”

Jack left the room, holding onto the ends of his stethoscope as he walked. You found yourself frozen for a moment, processing everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes or so. Someone cleared their throat, and you snapped your head in that direction, embarrassment coursing through your veins.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You said, moving to the drawers of the room quickly to grab the liner and plaster.

Robby’s wife looked to Dana with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Dana nodded, intercepting her question in the air.

“So, what do you think of Abbot?” She asked.

You smiled, bringing the supplies back to the tray near the bed. “He looks just like Robby.” You answered.

Dana rolled her eyes. “No, not Dana Jr.” She deadpanned, then nodded her head toward the Pitt. “The Lieutenant Colonel.”

Your hands froze where they were, sorting out the supplies. Slowly you looked up, and you were met with both women staring intently at you. “Oh, Doctor Abbot…” You corrected yourself. “He’s nice.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Robby’s wife immediately responded.

Dana gave her a look of way-to-blow-our-cover. You let out a nervous laugh. “I mean, yeah. But he’s way older than me. And we work together.” You answered, using your answers to ground yourself as to why your crush was a dead end.

Robby’s wife shrugged. “So? Robby is almost 20 years older than me. And we work together.” She countered.

You tilted your head. “Wait, you work here? In emergency?” You asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been on maternity leave.” She explained.

“Ohhhh.” You drew out, finally connecting the dots.

Dana smiled. “See? So what are your other excuses?” She pried.

You laughed slightly and shrugged. “I guess I don’t know if he’s interested.” You replied.

The two women shared another glance, debating on revealing any other information. “But you are?” Robby’s wife asked.

You smiled slightly, looking down at your hands. “Who wouldn’t be?”

The conversation ended there when Robby reentered the room with a slightly awake Eliza. “Distal radius fracture. No surgery.” He announced.

His wife let out a sigh of relief and smiled when her husband sat next to her again, still cradling the little girl. “That means we can all go home tonight.” She said, pressing her forehead to Robby’s shoulder.

—

After you followed Jack’s careful instruction while shaping the cast on Eliza’s arm, the little girl begged everyone to sign it. By the time she left with her family, there was a “Mommy”, “Daddy”, “Nana”, and your name with a smiley face on the hot pink wrapping. And as soon as you finished writing your name, Jack had snatched the sharpie from your hand, scrawling “Uncle Jack” right next to your signature.

As you watched the Robinavitches leave the Pitt, you found yourself smiling. You wanted that. The devoted parents, the precious children, the caring friends who became family.

You knew Jack was approaching by the uneven foot pattern, but you didn’t turn around. “You think I’m pretty?” You asked.

He stood by your side, brushing his thick shoulder against your frame, looking down at you with a trace of a smile. “I’d be a fool to think otherwise.” He answered honestly.

You looked up to meet his gaze. Those bourbon eyes were intoxicating, but you fought to maintain eye contact. “You’re really great with kids.” You complimented. “Eliza loves you.”

His smile deepened to a sincere one you weren’t used to seeing. “Thank you.”

The stare off continued. “Do you want kids?” You blurted out, and you nearly clamped your hand over your mouth at the word vomit.

Jack tilted his head, smile unfaltering. “If I find the right person to have them with.” He replied, leaning down closer to you just slightly. “Before I turn to dust.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. He laughed with you and crossed his arms, the muscles rippling across his skin. You didn’t notice when he leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“What you did in there with Eliza. Walking her through the process. Got her to stop crying. Good job.” He whispered lowly.

The hair on your neck stood at attention at the praise, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. You tried to brush off the feeling. “Thanks, Doctor Abbot.” You replied.

His face twitched when you called him by his last name, like he forgot you were his intern and not his. “Jack.” He corrected you.

You looked up to him again, taking in another drink of his eyes. There was vulnerability this time. “Jack.” You repeated in a whisper. “I didn’t know you had dimples.”

It was Jack’s turn to get flustered. “What do you mean?” He asked, and you could see the red creeping up his freckled neck.

You gently poked at his cheeks where the divots had appeared earlier. “You have dimples when you smile. It’s really cute.” You teased.

You could see the muscles in his face actively working to hold back a smile. He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t smile.” He answered as seriously as he could.

You wrapped your hands around his bicep and rested your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our secret.”

And the smile Jack held back flooded onto his face. Dimples and all. He placed a hand over yours and pressed a gentle kiss to your hair. Nobody said another word. You didn’t have to. You could hear it in the silence.

——

A/N: this is probably gonna get a Part 2 featuring the pool party because I can’t help myself. Also this can technically be a Robby x Reader fic because I intentionally didn’t give his wife a name so you can have the best of both worlds here 💙

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #doctor robby #dr robby #jack abbot #noah wyle #the pitt hbo #Shawn hatosy #Jack Abbott #Jack abbot x reader #Jack Abbott x reader

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blogastralusa · 2 years ago

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 5 months ago

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Tintin Tarot, part 2 - the Fool's Journey Continues. Part 1 can be found here! Me and @josephscoat came up with a list of Tintin characters assigned to the major arcana cards in a tarot deck after she realised how well Tintin mapped onto the Fool.

The Hanged Man - Sacrifice, martydom and hesitation. Frank Wolff's death in Explorers on the Moon really stuck with me. I watched the 90s cartoon adaptation of it with a friend recently and even though I knew what was going to happen, it still hit very hard. I replaced the living tree, which represents the potential for growth and knowledge on the original card, with the planet Earth.

Death - New beginnings, metamorphosis, fear of change and decay. Even just for the imagery I had to use Rascar Capac. His use in the narrative seems to demonstrate a fear of the unknown. As the Hierophant and the child from the Sun card appear on the original Death card, I opted to use Rascar Capac as he's in the same story as the Prince of the Sun and Zorrino, who we assigned to the Hierophant and the Sun respectively! Professor Tarragon replaces the dying person on the ground in the original card, and Inti the Incan sun god watches over the scene.

Temperance - Middle path, patience, finding meaning, but also could mean excess and a lack of balance when reversed. Haddock is famous for his tendency to fly off the handle at a moment's notice. But Haddock also has endless patience for Tintin's bullshit. His character arc is one of finding meaning in his life after hitting rock bottom. He is pouring bottles of Loch Lomond, as seen in the Magician card.

The Devil - Addiction, lust, materialism, playfulness. Who else is more devillish than Tintin's arch nemesis, Rastapopoulos? His schemes grow wilder and larger as he pursues wealth and revenge. While sexuality is famously absent from the Tintin series, Rastapopoulos and his associates certainly lust over money and control. Tom and Allan are held in chains, though they are clearly removeable. The choice is theirs if they wish to walk away.

The Tower - Sudden upheaval, disaster, but also an avoidance of disaster in reverse. Calculus' reusable nuclear powered moon rocket was literally ahead of its time, representing a huge shake up in technological advancement in the Tintin universe. However, the moon mission attracted a lot of sabotage and disaster which was narrowly avoided. While the characters had to rely on the rocket for safety, it's not necessarily predictable.

The Star - Hope and rejuvenation, but also discouragement and insecurity in reverse. The phostile meteorite ushered a global wave of panic and speculation initially, but once it landed it became a beacon for competing factions to get to in time. It has a property that allows living things to grow quickly and abnormally large, representing the abundance the Star card is supposed to signal. The Star is supposed to follow the trauma of the Tower. Picking the rocket and meteorite felt thematically appropriate as both have associations with space, a relatively new frontier.

The Moon - Illusions, intuition, fear, confusion, misinterpretation. Professor Phostle jumps to conclusions and makes wild predictions from shaky calculations. He's also conveniently moon shaped.

The Sun - Inner child, joy, truth and liberation from struggle, or sadness and self doubt in reverse. Zorrino escapes the torment and bullying in his village and joins the Inca. Haddock and Tintin are immediately protective over him, with Zorrino being a little younger than Tintin.

Judgement - Releasing baggage, call to action, renewal, moving forward. Ramo Nash breaks free from Rastapopoulos' grasp and saves Tintin's life. I decided to depict the final confrontation scene from Alph Art where he pushes Rastapopoulos off a cliff, to his end.

The World - Culmination, success, completion, but stagnation in reverse. The Fool has seemingly completed his journey - Tintin has it all, a successful fulfilling career, friends who care about him and a manion to live in. But he is, by design, stagnant. Forever a cherub faced boy, stuck in an episodic serial by nature, Hergé wanted to kill him off by sealing him inside a resin statue, freezing him in place for eternity. He will forever be the Boy Reporter.

I dressed him as a Morris dancer because I thought it would be funny

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astrolook · 4 months ago

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Birth Chart Family Secrets: What Your Planets Reveal About Home Life

1st House:

Sun - Whether you liked it or not, you were the center of attention. Your father probably made sure everyone knew you were the one to watch.

Moon - Your mother is either super loving or way too overbearing. Emotional rollercoaster, anyone? 🎢

Venus - you could be superficial at times in family gatherings. Maybe you don't want certain people around you.

Mars - You probably had some fiery family debates. “Who’s going to win this time?” 💥

Jupiter - You grew up with big dreams. Sometimes, your parents pushed you to take on more than you could handle. 🌍

Saturn - Your self-image was shaped by heavy responsibility. From a young age, you probably had to grow up fast, especially with your family’s expectations weighing on you. 👔

Uranus - You were the odd one out in the family. Probably the rebel who challenged norms and didn’t fit into the “traditional” family mold. ⚡

Neptune - Your sense of self might’ve been blurry. Family life felt like a dream—or maybe a fog. Were they loving, or were they distant? Sometimes it was hard to tell. 🌊

Pluto - You either love your family or hate them. Nothing in-between. Adopted children sometimes have this placement in their birth chart.

2nd House:

Sun - Money and security were at the core of your family’s identity. Success and status were everything, and your parents probably emphasized these values constantly. 💰

Moon - Whether your parents showered you with material goods or made you feel guilty for wanting more, there was always an emotional attachment to what you had. 💸

Mercury - Your family talked about money a lot. If you have a younger sibling, they could be earning well or would earn well.

Venus - Your family's way of showing affection and love is through gifts, comfort and luxury - whether it was food or designer shoes. It also shows you have a sweet tooth.

Mars - There was probably some tension over money, especially when it came to what was “mine” vs. “yours.” You learned to fight for your share, especially in a big family. 💥

Jupiter - If you have an elder sibling, they could be earning well and would spoil you with gifts or just buy you big things. Your parents probably showered you with bigger items or maybe you have a collection of these.

Saturn - The values in your home were built around hard work and discipline. Money didn’t come easily, and your family probably taught you that nothing was given to you.

Uranus - Unexpected financial situations and rebellious spending habits were a thing. You might have had a family that was either too conservative or too experimental when it came to money. 💡

Neptune - You probably saw your family’s relationship with money as a bit hazy. Was there enough, or was it all a mirage? Confusion was the name of the game.

Pluto - Power struggles around money. You might’ve grown up seeing money as a way to control or dominate.

3rd House:

Sun - You were probably the star of family discussions. Your voice was always heard, whether you wanted it to be or not. 👑

Moon - You communicated emotionally with them. Whether it was through feelings or moods, you shared your inner world with your family. Sometimes it was a bit much for them to handle. 😅

Mercury - Family conversations were fast-paced, witty, and a little too sharp sometimes. Growing up, you had to keep up with all the intellectual chatter. 🗣️

Venus - Your communication was all about harmony and beauty. You probably had the smoothest way with words—making everything sound more loving than it really was. 💕

Mars - You argued. A lot. You had the spirit of a warrior in family discussions. If you didn’t get your point across, you’d fight until the very end.

Jupiter - Your family encouraged you to think big and never settle for small talk. 🌍

Saturn - You may have felt like there was little room for emotion in your family’s conversations. 📜

Uranus - Your family probably had unconventional ways of communicating. Forget normal—there were oddball opinions flying around.

Neptune - Your family’s way of communicating was either filled with fantasy or complete miscommunication.

Pluto - Things get real fast, and sometimes, it was like you were discussing life-or-death issues at the dinner table. 🔥

4th House:

Sun - Your family probably made sure everyone knew you came from good stock. 🏡

Moon - Your family could be supportive and nurturing—or super moody and unpredictable.

Mercury - There were always family meetings, talks, and debates. Sometimes it was exhausting!

Venus - Your home was probably filled with art, nice things, and a lot of effort to create a peaceful atmosphere. 🖼️

Mars - There were likely a lot of arguments, physical activity, and maybe even fights over space and control. 🔥

Jupiter - You could be from a big family. Your home was probably full of optimism, maybe even too optimistic, and your parents encouraged you to think big. 🌍

Saturn - Two words - childhood trauma.

Uranus - Your family’s ways were always a bit… out there.

Neptune - You might’ve felt like things weren’t as they seemed, with a bit of an illusionary family dynamic.

Pluto - Family secrets or a secret family?

5th House:

Sun - Your childhood was likely full of performances, plays, or maybe even "My child is special" moments. 🎨

Moon - Emotions were a big part of your creative process, and your parents probably encouraged you to share your heart openly (sometimes too much). 💫

Mercury - Your family might’ve had clever inside jokes and sometimes you could have felt misunderstood.

Venus - Family valued beauty and art. Either you or your parents see the beauty in things or could be highly judgmental based on one's appearance.

Mars - You probably fought for attention in the family. Middle child syndrome.

Jupiter - Your family thought you could do it all.

Saturn - Your parents were strict about how you channeled your creative energy. 🏗️

Uranus - You probably rebelled against the “traditional” forms of expression. ⚡

Neptune - Your family’s vision of creativity was often dreamy, and it might’ve felt like there was a lot of idealization and escapism. 🌊

Pluto - Your family probably dealt with intense emotional highs and lows surrounding your self-expression. What you created could’ve sparked big changes. 🔥

6th House:

Sun - Health and daily routines were a big deal. Your family likely expected you to be disciplined with your body, maybe even pushing you toward a healthy lifestyle (even if you didn’t want to). 🏃‍♂️

Moon - Your family encouraged comfort, but it may have felt like an emotional rollercoaster when it came to health and wellness.

Mercury - Family advice on how to stay healthy. Sometimes too specific - eat this, not that.

Venus - Your family might have connected self-care routines with beauty—taking care of the body was just as much about looking good. 💅

Mars - Your family probably had a work hard, play hard mentality that may have led to burning the candle at both ends. 🔥

Jupiter - Your family believed in the power of positive thinking when it came to health, sometimes a bit too much. “Everything will be fine—just eat a salad!” 🥗

Saturn - Your family probably emphasized discipline over indulgence. “Get up early, work hard, and don’t complain!” ⏰

Uranus - Your family might’ve tried alternative methods or medicines that weren’t exactly mainstream. You probably rebelled against the standard family diet or wellness practices. ⚡

Neptune - Your family might’ve been either too focused on wellness myths or completely vague about it. A lot of idealistic views on “feeling better” but no real plans.

Pluto - Whether it was a major illness or personal transformation, your family might’ve faced some deep health-related struggles. 🔥

7th house:

Sun - Your would always have an opinion on your relationships/partnerships. You could even be the high earner in your family or would become one.

Moon - Your family was either overly supportive of your relationships or way too involved emotionally in every romantic decision you made. 😅

Mercury - Your family had constant discussions about your relationships, offering advice (sometimes unsolicited) and diving deep into every detail. 🗣️

Venus - Your family could be pushing the ideal of what true love or marriage should be.

Mars - Arguments in partnerships were common.

Jupiter - Your family probably has an expectation to expand your connections (sometimes to an overwhelming degree). 🌍

Saturn - Serious relationships were a big deal. Your family probably emphasized commitment and long-term partnerships. They were strict when it came to your choices in relationships. You either marry late or marry an older partner or not marry at all.

Uranus - Your family might’ve had a unique view on relationships, supporting unconventional or non-traditional pairings like same-sex relationships/marriages.

Neptune - Your family’s take on love might have been idealized, or there were a lot of illusions about what partnerships should be. 🌊

Pluto - Your relationship with your family is either intense emotionally or non-existent. Could also be living far away from family.

8th House:

Sun - your relationship with your father is either too intense or distant completely. Sometimes I have seen people with this placement who father died before the native turned 30.

Moon - Ancestral secrets. Could be mixed race. Internal conflicts with mother or family.

Mercury - Either you or your younger sibling could be homosexual or bi-sexual.

Venus - You could be having 2 or more sources of income. Your spouse could be richer than you. Wealth through marriage is possible.

Mars - Power struggles were a big part of the family dynamic.

Jupiter - Family business is possible here. Your family likely believed in the idea of growth through joint ventures or life-changing transformations. 🌍

Saturn - Family dynamics may involve financial burdens, secrecy, or a strong sense of responsibility toward ancestral debts.

Uranus - Family dynamics may be unpredictable, with sudden financial changes, unexpected inheritances, or unconventional attitudes toward death and shared resources. There could be secrets or shocks related to ancestry.

Neptune - Family matters may involve illusions, secrecy, or hidden emotional depths, possibly linked to financial deception, spiritual inheritance, or unclear ancestral ties.

Pluto - Generational trauma, or transformative experiences related to death, inheritance, or deep emotional bonds. There may be themes of secrecy, rebirth, and karmic debts within the family.

9th House:

Sun - Family identity is shaped by beliefs, education, or foreign roots; a strong father figure may be a guide.

Moon - Emotional connection to family comes through travel, spirituality, or distant relatives; a nurturing yet changeable home.

Mercury - Frequent relocations and you may even know more than one language.

Venus - Values centered on culture, arts, or diplomacy; may have wealth from in-laws.

Mars - Family tension with in-laws.

Jupiter - Luck through ancestors.

Saturn - Strict family beliefs, possible limitations in education or foreign connections; wisdom comes with time.

Uranus - Unconventional family traditions, sudden moves abroad, or a rebellion against cultural norms.

Neptune - Mystical or unclear family background, possible illusions about origins, or religious/spiritual ties.

Pluto - Intense, transformative family beliefs; deep ancestral karma or hidden power dynamics in the lineage.

10th House:

Sun - Your family basically handed you a résumé at birth. Success and reputation were everything, and you were expected to make the family name proud—no pressure.

Moon - Family might’ve been emotionally invested in your career choices. “Are you sure you want to be an artist? What about law school?” 🎭

Mercury - Career advice came constantly. Your family always had opinions on what you should do, and you probably learned to communicate professionally before you could even walk. 💼

Venus - Your family wanted you to have a respectable job that looked good—maybe even one that involved art, fashion, or diplomacy. 🎨

Mars - Family pressure to succeed at all costs may have left you feeling like you had to fight for recognition. Career competition might’ve started at the dinner table. 🏋️‍♂️

Jupiter - Big expectations, big ambitions. Your family believes that you are destined for greatness, whether that meant running a company, publishing books, or becoming someone important.

Saturn - Family expectations around success were strict, and you probably felt like you had to work twice as hard to prove yourself. Work-life balance? What’s that? 😬

Uranus - Family may have wanted stability, but you likely rebelled and chose an unconventional profession. “So, you’re telling me you want to be a… YouTuber?”

Neptune - Maybe your family pushed you toward a dream job that didn’t align with reality. “Just follow your passion, money will come!” (Will it, though?) 😵‍💫

Pluto - Your family’s expectations may have felt overwhelming, pushing you to transform your career path multiple times before finding your true calling. 🔥

11th House:

Sun - Either they knew all your friends or expected you to network your way to success. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” 🤝

Moon - Either your family was super involved in your friendships, or you felt emotionally connected to finding your people outside of home.

Mercury - Your family loved discussing big ideas and future goals. Conversations were filled with debates about the world, innovation, and why society needs to change.

Venus - Your family probably valued charm, diplomacy, and making connections with the right people. 👑

Mars - Friendships = competition. Arguments with friends? Likely a common theme.

Jupiter - Your family encouraged big dreams and global connections. Travel, education, and broadening your horizons were a major focus. “Why settle for one country when you can live in five?”

Saturn - Socializing wasn’t always easy. Friendships might have felt like serious business, and making connections took effort. Your family may have encouraged quality over quantity.

Uranus - Your family encouraged uniqueness. You probably felt like the odd one out growing up, but your family may have secretly admired your rebellious streak. “You’ll thank us when you’re older.”

Neptune - Family encouraged you to dream big, but sometimes, social expectations felt blurry. “Just trust the universe!” 🌌

Pluto - Your family might have taught you that not all friends are who they seem. 🕵️‍♂️

12th House:

Sun - Your identity felt hidden in the family. Maybe you were the one keeping secrets, or perhaps your family just didn’t see the real you until later in life. “Oh, you have feelings? Weird.”

Moon - Deep emotional wounds from childhood may have made you feel like you had to suppress emotions. Your family may have been emotionally distant or unknowingly made you feel invisible. 😶‍🌫️

Mercury - Your thoughts were often private or misunderstood. You may have been the one in the family who kept deep reflections to yourself.

Venus - You may have been raised to give without expecting anything in return. Maybe your family had a history of romanticizing suffering. “Love means giving everything!” 🥀

Mars - Internal battles? Too real. You were probably raised in an environment where conflict was hidden, and learning to assert yourself took time. But when you do fight back? It’s explosive.

Jupiter - Whether it was spirituality, religion, or trusting the process, your family pushed you toward a higher understanding. ✨

Saturn - Isolation, responsibility, and heavy lessons. You may have felt alone in your struggles, and your family likely reinforced themes of sacrifice and patience. You were the “old soul” kid.

Uranus - Your upbringing was unpredictable. Maybe you felt disconnected from your family or experienced unexpected shifts that shaped your identity in ways no one saw coming.

Neptune - Family life may have felt like a dream—or a complete illusion. Maybe there were secrets, blurred truths, or unspoken expectations. “Everything’s fine!” (It wasn’t.)

Pluto - You may have had to navigate shadows from an early age, experiencing profound losses or intense emotional shifts that made you stronger than you realize. 🔥

💫 Your birth chart holds all the tea on your childhood, family dynamics, and why you turned out the way you did. Want to know exactly how your planets shaped your upbringing, relationships, and even your subconscious patterns?

📩 Message me for a Complete Birth Chart Reading and uncover the full story behind your everything! ✨

Karmic Paths & Soul Purpose: A Complete Guide to the North Nodes & South Nodes in Astrology (13-page report) - $5

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alygator77 · 8 months ago

Text

❥ masked affairs—sold to desire

℘pairing. au dom rich! satoru x fem! reader

℘summary. it's a lavish charity masquerade, and you find yourself under satoru gojo’s spell once again. tonight, he’s playing a dangerous game—a discreet, remote-controlled toy designed to tease and torment you—hula beads. as the night unfolds, you walk the fine line between obedience and defiance, but testing him could be your undoing—satoru is unforgiving, and he holds the key to your pleasure.

℘tags/warnings. nsfw 18+, smut, fluff, established relationship, billionaire satoru, reader is rich too, satoru controls/dominates you with a sex toy during a charity auction, jealous/possessive satoru, public foreplay, public sex, lots of worship and praise, penetration, creampie.

℘wc. 15.1k

℘a/n. happy spooky season ya'll 👻 this oneshot is heavily inspired by fifty shades darker. check out the mood board here. the song for this fic is 'infinity' by james young, listen here. enjoy 💕

In a room full of masks, you’ve perfected the art of wearing one—long before you ever stepped into Satoru Gojo’s world.

The lace mask lying on your vanity is almost like a second skin to you now. After all, you’ve spent years working in your profession, hiding behind smiles and carefully measured words. It’s a flawless poise required of someone in your line of work—the PR world demanded it—dealing with the rich and powerful, controlling the narrative, making sure their perfect, untouchable image remains intact.

A skill you’ve long since mastered.

And as the soft hum of the city buzzes outside your penthouse window, with the glow of the skyline filtering through the room—it serves as a quiet reminder of how far you’ve come, and where you are now.

Standing at the top.

But the weight of that truth has never really faded, has it? You—entrenched in this world—one that always demands more than it gives.

A faint smile tugs at your lips as you lift the mask from the vanity, turning it over between your fingers. Ironic, really, that someone who has built a career on managing the chaos of others, controlling every detail, would find herself unraveling in ways she hadn’t expected.

Unraveled by him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the quiet creak of the door, and you glance up at the mirror just in time to see him lean against the doorframe.

Satoru Gojo.

It had been two years since that fateful night—the night you met him at the very same event you are both to attend, yet again. But when he had first walked into that ballroom two years ago, confident and untouchable, you hadn’t been impressed… at first—and why would you be? Men like him, with their money and their charm, were a dime a dozen in your world. You knew exactly how to handle them.

But not Satoru Gojo.

And tonight, he looked every bit his part—a presence so magnetic, so effortless—dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, tailored perfectly to his tall, athletic frame. His white hair falling in its usual tousled disarray, yet somehow, even that looks intentional—perfectly imperfect, just like him.

Ah, but it’s his eyes—those striking, icy blue eyes—that always manage to captivate you immediately. And this time, as his gaze sweeps over you slowly, you catch sight of the predatory glimmer underneath, lingering on every curve as he drinks in the sight of you.

There is a weight to his gaze, and oh, you revel in it. That’s the thing—you know exactly how to unravel him, just as easily as he can unravel you.

Taking your time, you set the lace mask down carefully—knowing full well that his eyes haven’t left you for a second, and you smooth your gown, feeling the delicate, luxurious material slide under your fingers.

The dress was a statement—sophisticated with a touch of allure. The deep sapphire-blue fabric, silky and shimmering in the dim light, hugs your curves with a neckline plunging just low enough to tease. It features a high slit running up one leg, adding a sensual edge but still maintaining an air of elegance.

And you know—oh, you know—that every detail of it is driving him crazy.

His breath catches as he finally speaks, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Wow. You’re going to make it impossible for anyone else to concentrate tonight.”

You smirk, turning just enough to catch his eyes fully.

“Good. I didn’t plan on letting anyone else have your attention tonight.”

“Mmm, funny,” he muses, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate strides.

His hands slowly slide down your arms—a touch so feather-light, it sends a shiver of anticipation through you as he leans in, his breath is warm against your ear. “Especially considering it’s been two years since you walked into that gala and made me work for your attention.”

“Work?” you chuckle softly and tilt your head slightly. “I think you enjoyed the chase more than you’re willing to admit.”

Pulling himself closer to you—you feel his lips brush softly against your neck, underlined with a low growl.

“Oh, I enjoyed it,” his voice deepens with each word. “But catching you...” he places a lingering kiss just beneath your ear. “That was my real reward.”

You inhale as his warm breath fans your skin, and you desperately try not to give away just how much your body is already responding to him.

Why? Because you love making him chase you—even to this day.

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“Mhm,” he hums.

Exhaling again, you feel his hands slide lower, resting just above the curve of your hips as his lips trail down the side of your neck, placing slow, deliberate kisses.

“You still seem a little worked up for someone who’s already caught me.” You keep your voice measured—your growing desire masked underneath a teasing edge.

He chuckles darkly.

“Can you blame me?”

Before you can respond, his words are punctuated with a slow, deliberate press of his hips, and you gasp softly as you feel the unmistakable erection pressing into your backside. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan as the sensation sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You feel that, don’t you?” rolling his hips, he sounds so desperate, and it’s impossible to ignore. “That’s what you do to me.”

“You’re awfully needy tonight,” you whisper, breathily.

He drops his head, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder—trailing up to the shell of your ear where you are met with a deep chuckle.

“Needy?” a shiver rakes down your spine as his voice dips lower—darker, more dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart… you haven’t seen needy yet.”

His hand slides from your waist with an agonizing slowness until it rests on the curve of your hip, and you feel his fingers trace the edge of your dress—teasingly close to the slit exposing your thigh—a touch so light is makes you shiver with anticipation.

“I’ve got something for you,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze in the vanity mirror.

Your eyes widen as you feel something cool and smooth brush against your bare thigh—small, sleek, unmistakable.

Hula beads.

Well, fuck—what a menace. With him holding the remote, you know he’ll have full control over your pleasure—completely discreet and utterly torturous.

“Just a little gift to keep things… exciting,” he grins. “I know these events can be so… mundane for you.”

Your mouth goes dry as you hold his gaze, already sensing where this was going.

“Satoru—”

“Two years,” he interrupts, dark and commanding now. “Two years since you walked into my life, and I decided I wasn’t going to let you go.” His eyes lock onto yours in the mirror, and for a moment, all you can do is stare back at his reflection, captivated by his intensity.

Slowly, his expression softens—his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.

“Tonight’s special, love,” he says affectionately. Leaning in closer, his lips brush against your ear, and before you can react, he captures your earlobe gently between his teeth. “I want you to feel that baby.”

A gasp escapes your lips. He knows how to get under your skin—how to make every inch of you burn with need. His dominance, wrapped in tenderness—the perfect combination that drives you wild.

“I want you to wear these for me tonight.”

The heat between your thighs intensifies at his words. Swallowing hard, you nod slowly. Finally managing to speak, barely a whisper.

“Okay.”

Satoru’s smirk deepens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as his grip on your waist tightens.

“Good. Now bend over the dresser.”

The command in his voice is unmistakable, and it sends a thrill straight to your core, making your legs tremble slightly as you obey. Slowly, you lean forward, your palms resting on the cool surface of the dresser.

“So obedient,” his hands glide up your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress around your waist. “Such a good girl for me.”

His praise makes your breath hitch, and you bite your lip as his hands move lower, spreading your thighs slightly—positioning you just the way he wants you.

Satoru’s fingers hook into the delicate fabric of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth, possessive motion. As you brace yourself against the dresser, his touch drifts lower, tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs before circling back up—brushing softly around the curve of your ass. But your body aches for more, and finally, your entrance welcomes the light, deliberate pressure of his digit.

It's not enough though.

Fucking hell. The anticipation is coiling tight in your stomach—you were already growing wet. He was always like this—making you wait, making you want him even more.

“Satoru,” you plea, barely above a whisper.

Pausing for a moment, he chuckles—then, he allows his fingers to brush over you again, this time with a little more pressure. He lets out a low hum of approval as he feels the undeniable heat between your legs.

“Well, look at that,” he murmurs, full of satisfaction as his fingers trace over your slickness. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

Your body trembles and the heat intensifies further as he acknowledges your arousal.

“I was going to prep you,” his voice drips with amusement as he pushes deeper—two fingers curling in—just enough to make you gasp. “But… I don’t think that’s necessary anymore, do you?”

He pulls his fingers out—leaving you aching and breathless. You let out a disappointed whine, your body protesting against the sudden loss of contact.

You wanted him. Now.

The desire burning throughout you is almost unbearable, and he knows it—he was going to make this night torture for you.

He chuckles again—a hand sliding up your spine, tracing the curve of your back as he leans in closer to press a tender kiss on your shoulder.

“Needy girl. I’m not done with you yet. Stay still.”

Your breath hitches, and before you can respond, you feel something cool and smooth press against your entrance—the unmistakable touch of the Hula Beads.

“Let’s make this night memorable, hmm?”

He slowly, deliberately, pushes it inside you.

Unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips, he doesn’t stop until the beads are seated deep within you. The sensation is foreign, but undeniably arousing as your core clenches around them—a fullness that builds between your thighs, making your knees tremble.

You’re already aching for more, and he hasn’t even turned them on yet.

Satoru pauses for a moment, letting you breathe as he admires you—a small, knowing smirk tugging upon his lips. With careful precision, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and pulls them back up.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, smoothing your dress back down. “Now, stand up.”

Standing upright feels like a challenge—your legs tremble slightly as you push yourself up from the dresser, adjusting to the pressure inside you. He steps behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“You’re going to behave tonight, aren’t you?” His free hand reaches up, fingers gently brushing through your hair, caressing you as his eyes lock with yours in the mirror—a comfort and a reminder of the control he holds. “I’ll know exactly what’s going on inside you, and no one else will have a clue. But you’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try…” you respond, breathy, but teasing—a spark of defiance in your tone, knowing full well what his reaction might be.

Satoru’s smirk deepens, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second.

“Try?” he repeats, full of amusement. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re already testing me, and we haven’t even left the room yet.”

His warning sends a shiver through you as you hold his gaze with a playful challenge—but then, he pecks your cheek and steps back. Straightening his jacket, he adjusts his bowtie as if nothing unusual has happened between you. It’s a movement so smooth and controlled, an epitome of poise—but the smirk on his lips and the glint in his eyes tell you that he’s anything but composed on the inside.

Oh, he’s playing with you… and he’s loving every second of it.

“Behave,” he casts you a sideways glance, accompanied with a wink, full of mischief. “Because I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight, princess.”

❥

“Ah, there they are!” a familiar voice rings from behind, and you turn just in time to see Shoko approaching—her mischievous smile tugging at her lips, the lace mask adorning her face barely concealing that sparkle in her eyes. “y/n, Satoru—you two certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Before you can respond, she pulls you into a warm embrace—the scent of her perfume faint and comforting as you relax into her familiar touch.

“Gosh, it’s been too long,” she murmurs before stepping back to look you over with an approving nod. “You look incredible.”

Satoru jumps in—his arm slipping slightly around your waist, pulling you closer as he leans in with a low chuckle.

“Doesn’t she?” His voice is rich with affectionate pride, and his fingers lightly trace circles on your hip absentmindedly. “It’s almost unfair, isn’t it?”

The warmth of his words lingers in the air, and you can’t help but feel the flutter of butterflies in your chest as his gaze holds yours with an intensity.

Shoko’s dramatic groan breaks the spell. She rolls her eyes with exaggerated flair—crossing her arms over her chest as a playful grin tugs at her lips.

“Ugh, you two are too cute together—it’s almost sickening.”

You let out a soft laugh, glancing sideways at Satoru with a knowing smirk.

“Mmm... well, we try.”

Satoru’s smirk only widens as he holds you even tighter.

“Do we?” he teases. “I wasn’t aware we were being watched.”

Shoko rolls her eyes again, clearly unimpressed with his feigned ignorance.

“Oh, please,” she drawls sarcastically, lightly flicking a hand toward the both of you. “It’s hard not to notice when you two waltz in looking like you own the place.”

You can’t help but grin in response, shaking your head at her comment.

“Oh, come on. Says the woman who makes even casual elegance look like high fashion.”

Shoko’s smirk grows as she readjusts the shawl draped elegantly around her shoulders—her burgundy gown hugging her figure perfectly—each detail carefully chosen. She straightens up, standing a little taller as she takes in your compliment.

“Mmm…what can I say? Guess I’m a natural,” she adds with a playful wink.

Before anyone can add anything further, Suguru’s smooth voice cuts in from behind, joining the conversation as he steps up beside her.

“You’re always so modest, aren’t you, Shoko?”

His calm presence and easygoing smile blend seamlessly in the group—almost as natural as the way he drapes an arm casually over Shoko’s shoulders, while his other hand pushes back a few stray tousles of his long raven hair.

As his gaze shifts toward Satoru for a moment, a playful spark flickers in his eyes.

“But… let’s not downplay the real showstopper,” Suguru’s attention slides over to you, lingering with an appreciative glance. “y/n,” he murmurs, “you’re absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You can’t help but blush lightly—feeling the warmth and sincerity of his compliment. You manage a soft smile.

“Aww, thanks… you’re too kind, Suguru.”

Suddenly the atmosphere shifts—Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, and the low, unamused hum that rumbles through his chest makes his feelings on the exchange very clear.

“Kind, hm?” His gaze slides from you to Suguru, narrowing with a protective edge. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Suguru’s grin widens, clearly savoring the reaction he’s drawing out from his friend. There’s a certain satisfaction in the way his lips curl upward—knowing full well the tension he’s provoking.

“What?” He tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “I’m just calling it like I see it. And believe me, everyone’s seeing it tonight. y/n’s drawing the most attention.”

For a moment, the air between the two men thickens, and Satoru’s hand tightens ever so slightly around you.

“Mhm… she always does.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained with Satoru’s reaction, and without missing a beat, he saunters over—casually draping an arm over Satoru’s shoulders—a gesture that both diffuses and provokes in the same motion. Pulling his friend in slightly, he shakes him playfully with an unwavering grin.

“Oh yes, of course,” Suguru replies smoothly. “I mean, some people just have that natural charm. I’m sure half the room is probably wondering ‘who is that stunning woman on your arm.’”

Ah… the familiar dynamic between them is at play. It’s almost like clockwork—the way Suguru knows how to needle Satoru without truly ruffling his feathers. Their friendship has always been this way—filled with teasing, and light jabs—but under it all, there’s a solid foundation of trust.

Suguru is his best friend, after all.

Rolling his eyes, the grin tugging at the corners of Satoru’s lips betray him. He shrugs Suguru’s arm off his shoulders—giving him a light shove.

“Yeah, well... they can wonder all they want,” Satoru quips, casual but pointed. He shifts, and before you can react, he takes your hand, guiding you toward him in one fluid motion. Holding you close, he presses a tender kiss to your temple—the warmth of his lips sending a flutter of butterflies through your chest. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s with me,” he murmurs.

Suguru leans back slightly, clearly amused by how things are playing out, and his smirk widens—he can’t resist throwing in one last comment.

“Ahh… but if you’re not careful… someone might just steal her away.”

The words hang in the air, and for a brief second, everything feels charged—like a storm on the horizon. You can feel Satoru’s body tense ever so slightly, his fingers tightening on your waist. Suguru’s teasing is nothing unusual, but tonight... tonight it feels different. The thought of testing Satoru right now seems almost… dangerous.

Maybe it’s the setting, the way you’re dressed, or maybe it’s the fact that you both know he’s holding more than just your hand tonight.

The remote.

Fucking hell…Suguru may think he’s getting under Satoru’s skin, but you know better. Tonight is not the night to test Satoru’s patience.

Before the tension can build further, Shoko, ever the master of diffusing, steps in with a smirk and a light nudge to Suguru’s side.

“Well, it’s good to see nothing’s changed,” she remarks, full of playful exasperation. “Still managing to get under his skin, I see.”

Suguru chuckles, his smile widening as he throws his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s a gift,” he says with an exaggerated shrug.

Satoru’s grip on your waist loosens, the tension that had been simmering, melting away like snow under the sun from Shoko’s well-timed comment.

Oh, Shoko. You could kiss her right now—tonight, of all nights, you really needed that—needed her.

Satoru hums in response, the sound low and laced with mock approval as his gaze flickers between Suguru and you—his lips curving into a teasing smile.

“If by gift, you mean an annoyance, then sure,” he murmurs.

“Eh. Same thing,” Suguru shrugs, smiling—not phased in the slightest by Satoru’s retort.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in mock disapproval at the two of them.

“You two are impossible…” you murmur.

Before anyone can say more, a gentleman in a sharp suit approaches Satoru—tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Mr. Gojo, I believe the event coordinator needs a word with you about the auction details.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker briefly with irritation at the interruption, but ever the charmer, he covers it with a polite smile.

“Of course,” he responds smoothly. Before stepping away, he turns to you—lifting your hand gently into his own. His lips brush against your knuckles in a tender, lingering kiss, sending a soft warmth radiating through your chest. “I’ll be back in just a moment, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

You manage a smile as you watch him walk away, and as soon as Satoru is out of earshot, Shoko leans in closer to you—her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Sooo, how are things really?” her eyes gleam with playful curiosity. “Satoru keeping you on your toes?”

Well… that’s one way to put it—if only she knew half of it. You take a small breath, glancing briefly at Satoru as he moves across the room.

“Yeah…” a soft, fond smile spreads across your face. “You could say that…”

“Well,” she chuckles, patting your arm gently, “I’ll give you this—two years with Satoru? You deserve a medal,” she teases. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. Seems like just yesterday we were all at this gala, two years ago. Remember?”

“How could I forget?” you murmur, your voice dropping slightly as you recall that night, still so vivid. “It was... intense.”

Shoko grins, her eyes bright with recollection.

“Intense?” She shakes her head. “You two practically set the room on fire. The way he looked at you that night? I swear… I thought the whole world was going to stop spinning.”

Her words bring a slight flush to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile at the memory.

“And now, look at you…” Shoko continues, her tone softening with affection. “Two years in, and he’s still completely wrapped around your finger.”

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth flutter in your chest.

“Well…he’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” you admit, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the ring on your hand—a gesture you do without thinking.

Ah…but it’s not the ring you want it to be.

Shoko notices the subtle movement, her eyes flicking to your hand before she gives you a knowing smirk.

“Oh, please,” she teases, flicking a hand toward you with a playful roll of her eyes. “Persistent? The man’s practically obsessed. Not that I blame him, of course.” She gestures to your gown—the fabric shimmering under the soft lights. “Seriously. You do look stunning, as always.”

You chuckle softly at her compliment—shaking your head. “Thanks, Sho.”

From the side, Suguru, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally steps forward, his smile soft and genuine.

“Man… two years already, huh?” he remarks, rich with sincerity—his gaze shifting between you and where Satoru had gone. “You and Satoru... I never would’ve guessed it back then, but now? It just makes sense.”

You tilt your head slightly, genuinely intrigued by his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, meeting his gaze.

Suguru chuckles, a warm, low sound.

“I mean… you balance him out. He needs someone like you—someone who can handle him and keep him grounded. You keep him on his toes, but you also... well, you make him better.”

His words catch you off guard—you feel your heart swell and a faint blush paint your cheeks.

“I never thought about it like that,” you admit, offering him a soft smile.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru replies, his smile widening as he casually shoves his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know he’s not the easiest guy to deal with, but with you? He’s found someone worth changing for.”

You blink, his words sinking in, and you feel the weight of the compliment settle in your chest. It’s not often people see beyond the surface of Satoru and his larger-than-life persona, but Suguru always had a way of getting to the heart of things.

“Thanks, Suguru. That... that means a lot.”

Shoko, sensing the tender turn of the conversation, steps back in with her usual playful demeanor—her smirk returning in full force.

“Alright, alright,” she interjects with a mock sigh, “Enough of this heart-to-heart. I’m off to find a drink before this turns into a therapy session,” she jokes, giving your arm a light squeeze before she starts sauntering off toward the bar.

You and Suguru are left standing there as you watch her go—his head shaking slightly with amusement.

“She’s always like that…” he murmurs, half to himself.

You’re about to respond, to make some lighthearted comment in return, when the world around you suddenly shifts—tilts, really, in a way that sends a jolt of warmth radiating through your core. It’s subtle, barely noticeable at first, but your body betrays you—stiffening as a wave of unexpected pleasure coils low in your stomach. Your breath catches, and before you can even process what’s happening, a soft gasp slips past your lips.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Not now.

Suguru, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice the sudden change in your demeanor—he continues talking, oblivious to the soft hum of the Hula beads that have sprung to life inside you. But you know. You know exactly what’s happening.

Satoru.

The soft, torturous vibrations pulse through you, teasing, building in intensity just enough to make your legs wobble slightly. It’s maddening—the way the beads twist and hum with perfect, controlled precision, sending sharp, undeniable shocks of pleasure through your core—the kind that makes your knees want to give out if you’re not careful.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to maintain your composure, nodding along to whatever Suguru is saying. God… what is he even saying? His words are little more than background noise to the mounting pressure building inside of you.

Fucking Satoru.

You’ve been left alone for all of two minutes, and he’s already playing with you. Already reminding you who’s in control tonight.

Your pulse races as you glance around the room, frantically searching for him—and there he is, across the room, casually speaking with someone. His white hair catches the soft light, making him stand out even in the crowd, and his gaze is focused on the conversation—until it’s not. His eyes flick over to you, locking with yours in a way that feels like a tether between you both.

And then he smirks.

The kind of smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your chest tightens as the vibrations inside you shift—deeper, more intense—and you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You want to scream, to curse him from across the room, but you can’t. Not with Suguru standing right here.

“y/n?” Suguru asks softly, concerned. “You alright?”

Oh God…are you obvious?

You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, clearing your throat. “Just… the room’s a bit, erm… warm.”

Warm? That’s the best you could come up with?

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing that something’s off, but too kind to push it. Instead, he gives you a soft, reassuring smile—his hand coming to rest gently on your arm. It’s a simple touch that would normally be comforting, but right now, it only heightens your awareness of the relentless pulses inside you—and Satoru’s own relentlessness.

Because then, without warning, the Hula beads kick up in intensity.

The sudden surge of vibration hits you like a shockwave, and you nearly double over from the sensation as it reaches your clit. Your knees almost give out, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to gasp aloud. The vibrations aren’t just subtle anymore; they’re deep, insistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each agonizing pulse.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches, and you have to dig your nails into your palms to keep yourself grounded. The wet heat building inside you feels like it’s going to explode. You glance back at Satoru—catching sight of his unwavering gaze—and in that brief, charged moment, he mouths the words to you slowly, deliberately:

You’re mine.

Your cunt drips. Oh God… he’s doing this because of Suguru—reminding you that no matter who you’re talking to, no matter who you’re with, you belong to him.

A flush of heat spreads through your cheeks, and you quickly turn your attention back to Suguru, hoping to hide the storm brewing inside of you. He continues speaking, but you barely hear him. Every nerve in your body is too focused on the pulsing hum—on the way your body reacts involuntarily to every shift in vibration.

Oh, Shoko—you could strangle her.

If she hadn’t left you alone with Suguru, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here on the brink of losing control, struggling to keep your legs from buckling under the pressure of the relentless pleasure surging through you.

Your gaze snaps to Satoru, and for a brief, charged moment, he meets your eyes. His hand slips into his pocket, his expression infuriatingly smug, as if to say, Remember who’s in control.

The vibrations surge even more—your entire body tensing. It’s too much.

You’re so close—too close. Your pussy quivers as you teeter on the edge of release, and all you can do is bite your lip to stifle the whimper that’s threatening to escape.

But just as the pressure coils and the pleasure peaks—right when you’re about to fall over the precipice—everything stops. The vibrations cease entirely, leaving you trembling and breathless—your body screaming for a release that’s been snatched away.

You blink in shock—your legs weak as your slick drips down your thigh—the sudden loss of sensation leaving you reeling.

Ready to shoot Satoru a glare, the moment you look in his direction you barely register the fact that he’s already moving towards you and Suguru with long purposeful strides—and in seconds, he’s standing beside you.

“So sorry to interrupt,” his hand slips around your waist—pulling you flush against him as his thumb brushes lightly over your hip. “But I think I’ll be stealing her away now.”

Suguru chuckles, unaware of the game Satoru’s been playing—or just how close you came to unraveling right in front of him.

“Tch… already?” he tilts his head, grin widening. “We barely had a chance to catch up.”

Satoru doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking from Suguru to you—eyes dark with intent.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll all have time for that later…” his tone is casual, but there’s a hidden edge beneath the surface, and when his eyes meet yours, there’s a dangerous glint—a silent promise that makes your breath hitch and a shiver run down your spine. “Right now,I need her,” he smirks.

Suguru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over you—lingering a moment too long as if noticing the flush of your cheeks, the way you’re clinging to Satoru’s arm a little more tightly than usual.

With a theatrical sigh, he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Guess I’ll go find Shoko then, so I don’t have to be the third wheel.” As he takes a step back, he gives you one last playful glance. “But don’t hog her all night, Satoru,” he warns teasingly even as he steps away. “I expect to get at least one dance later.”

Satoru chuckles dismissively—his focus already shifting entirely to you as Suguru fades out of existence. “Yeah, right… not happening,” he mutters under his breath.

The moment Suguru’s out of earshot, Satoru tightens his grip on your waist, pulling your body flush against his. A slow smirk tugs at his lips the moment you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal—his cock, hard and unyielding, pressing into you.

“You looked like you were about to fall apart back there, sweetheart,” his lips brush your ear as he tenderly trails his fingers through your hair. “Tell me… you were so close, weren’t you?”

Your breath stutters as his hand slides slowly, possessively down your back. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your dress, making your body shudder as he lingers just above the curve of your hips. Your cunt aches for the release he denied you.

“Satoru…you’re... so unfair.”

“Unfair?” he chuckles, pulling back slightly and running his thumb tenderly across your lower lip—watching your breath hitch at his touch. “Oh, princess… if only you knew…” His voice drops lower—lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “I want to drag you away and show you just how unfair I can be.”

You bite your lip, stifling a moan—the heat pooling between your legs. Your hand instinctively rests against his chest, fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his tuxedo—feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat mirroring your own. Your lips part as you take in a shaky breath.

“Take me somewhere right now… I don’t care where, just… please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Your voice is breathless, desperate, and the moment the words leave your lips, you see the shift in his expression—his cock twitches in his pants and his eyes darken with raw desire. He clenches his jaw and breathes sharply through his nose, almost as if he’s trying to regain control. As he lowers his forehead against yours, you feel his hand drop from your hair to grip your hips possessively.

“Fuck...” he growls softly, “You have no idea how hard you have me. Every time you look at me like that...” he exhales, his fingers pressing harder into you as his gaze drops to your lips. “…I just want to take you right here.”

His touch slides lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before they begin to glide back up, slipping teasingly over the small of your back. It’s an innocent enough motion to anyone watching—but the way his fingers linger, the way his body presses into yours, it sends a tingling wave of heat to your pussy.

“If we weren’t in public right now…” his voice rumbles against your skin as he nuzzles into the delicate curve of your neck, “I’d have you on your knees, begging for me. I’d make you scream my name so loud, the only thing you’d be able to think about is how much you fucking need me.”

Your knees nearly give way at the intensity of his words, but his strong arm tightens around you, steadying you. You whine as his fingers rise up to weave through your hair again, tugging gently as his other hand returns to your waist, trailing down slowly before gripping your hip again.

“Mmm… but not yet,” he whispers, dripping with control. “Not here.”

You let out a soft, frustrated groan, leaning into his chest, craving more—craving him. His infuriating smirk brushes against your skin, and he hums in amusement. He pulls you back to look at you, his hand coming up the tenderly cup your cheek.

“Come now,” he murmurs affectionately, “You’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”

You exhale heavily, rolling your eyes despite the tight knot of desire twisting inside you.

“Yes...” you mumble.

His eyebrow arches as he leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… I’ll behave,” you huff in frustration.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugs at Satoru’s lips as he pulls back. He caresses your hair once more and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, the words wrapping around you like a promise. “Because if you don’t… I’ll fucking ruin you later.”

Oh, you know he will—and you’ll love every second of it.

❥

The night was going smoothly. The opulent charity gala had everything: fine champagne, crystal chandeliers, and the hum of soft conversation drifting through the ballroom. Satoru had barely left your side, his hand lingering on your waist, warm and magnetic—making you feel like the queen of the event, and every glance from the elite in attendance told you the same thing.

Together, you were commanding the room.

But then… she walked in.

Mei-Mei.

Her entrance was nothing short of dramatic—icy beauty wrapped in a form-fitting, silk gown that shimmered with every step and clung to her every curve. Heads turned, conversations quieted, and the air in the ballroom seemed to shift as she sauntered through the crowd with effortless grace.

Mei-Mei was made for these kinds of events. She exuded money, and it wasn’t just in her attire; it was in her entire demeanor—the confidence of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to buy anything she desired—including people. And more than anything, that’s exactly what she wanted to project.

Her sharp, catlike eyes scan the room slowly, as if weighing its worth, and you can instantly feel the moment her gaze lands on you—and on Satoru.

Once upon a time, long before you entered his life, Mei-Mei had been Satoru’s girlfriend. And her interest in him? Well… it had never been about love.

No, Mei-Mei was a woman who measured people by their value—their status, their influence, and most importantly, their wealth. Satoru had checked all the boxes—he was power personified, and she loved the way that power elevated her—until she overplayed her hand and Satoru had walked away.

The façade had cracked—once Satoru had realized what she was truly after, how she valued his bank account more than anything else, he was through. He had never spoken much about their prior relationship, but you’ve heard enough through whispers in social circles.

But Mei-Mei? She’d never forgiven him for it—he had stolen away the life she had always dreamed for herself.

Now, as her eyes flick over you and Satoru, you catch sight of the challenge forming behind her sharpened smile as she immediately changes her course.

You can feel Satoru’s arm instinctively tighten around your waist, his body leaning slightly into yours—he’s noticed her too. You glance up at him, offering a soft smile—your silent way of telling him, you’re fine.

She’s not going to rattle you. Not tonight.

Her heels click in rhythmic precision against the marble floor as she approaches, and once she finally reaches you, her lips curl into a smile—sharp and precise—designed to appear friendly but lacking any warmth.

“Ah, y/n, dear,” she began, smooth as silk but dripping with condescension. “You look... cute tonight.” Her gaze flicks to Satoru for a fraction of a second before landing back on you. “I suppose Satoru always did have a thing for... simplicity.”

Oh… she wants to play?

Fine. You meet her eyes without hesitation—your unwavering smile poised and steady.

“Simplicity?” you echo, letting a carefree laugh slip through. “Oh, darling… simplicity is what makes elegance effortless. I suppose that’s a skill not everyone can master, hmm?”

For just a fraction of a second, you see it—her mask slips. Her smile falters, her jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow just a little too much. It’s quick, but you catch it.

Got her.

But Mei-Mei doesn’t like being outmaneuvered. Especially not by you.

Her eyes flick away from yours, turning to Satoru with a renewed smile—wider, as if trying to reclaim control. But you see through the charm; there’s bitterness behind it.

“Well,” she continues, voice dripping with false nostalgia, “Satoru and I were quite the power couple once, weren’t we?” her gaze flicks back to you. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten.”

As her voice drops, like a private whisper shared between ex-lovers, you feel Satoru tense beside you. His grip on you tightens as though he’s silently urging you to ignore her. But nah—you aren’t about to back down. Not tonight.

Letting your hand trail slowly down the front of Satoru’s tux, your fingertips graze the fabric teasingly as you glance up at him, offering a soft, playful smile. His eyes soften immediately, and he pulls you a little closer.

“Mmm… but memories have a funny way of fading when you’ve found something far more fulfilling.”

Satoru responds immediately, his gaze melting into yours, the tension in his shoulders easing as his fingers squeeze your waist slightly—a silent declaration of where his loyalties lie. Your voice is sweet, affectionate, and though your words are for Satoru, they’re aimed squarely at Mei-Mei.

You catch sight of her reaction in the corner of your eye—the way her fingers clench around her designer clutch a bit too tightly—a crack of frustration leaking through her forced smile.

“You know,” she starts again, this time more pointed, “men like Satoru tend to... wander. He’s incapable of settling down, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”

The jab hangs in the air, and you feel Satoru stiffen beside you. He’s clearly irritated now, but it’s not her words that bother you—it’s the audacity.

How dare she throw shade at him?

Your eyebrow arches, and a light, almost dismissive laugh escapes your lips. The sound slices through her words, gentle but cutting.

“Oh, Mei-Mei…” you coo, her name slipping off your tongue with a mix of sweetness and pity. “You see, some men wander when they’re searching for something they don’t have. But when they’ve found what they truly want? They stay.”

Your words hit her like a slap disguised as a caress, and you see the moment it lands—underneath the lacy mask resting on the bridge of her nose, her eyes flash, and her smile tightens. Despite her best efforts, she tries to remain composed.

“I suppose we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You smile serenely, unbothered, and tilt your head slightly, like you’re humoring a child.

“Yes, well. Satoru’s never been one to settle for anything less than what he deserves. I suppose that’s why he left you.”

The subtle shift in her demeanor tells you everything you need to know.

You’ve won.

The frustration beneath her surface bubbles to the top, and it’s barely hidden behind the sharp scoff that escapes her lips. Her exit is quick, muttering some vague excuse before turning on her heel and sauntering away with stiff shoulders. Ahh… her movements are a bit too rigid for someone who’s pretending not to care.

Your heart swells pridefully with the satisfaction of standing your ground as you watch her go—not just for yourself, but for Satoru too. Your Satoru.

You feel his grip on you tighten the moment Mei-Mei disappears from view, and before you can even process what’s happening, he's pulling you flush against him—his body warm, firm, and incredibly close.

The heat radiating from him feels almost electrifying, and his breath ghosts against the shell of your ear.

“Fuck… do you have any idea how hot that was?”

You bite your lip—the victory was sweet, but the fire in his words make it even sweeter. A wave of heat spreads through your core.

“You were incredible,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. “God you’re perfect… so fucking perfect.”

His praise stokes the fire that’s already building within you, and you’re keenly aware of every inch of him pressed firmly on your hip—his cock twitching against you.

“Yeah…?” you grin, snaking your arms around his neck and brushing your fingers through his hair. “Do I finally get my reward?”

A low chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he pulls back just enough to hover his lips over yours, teasingly close.

“Oh, sweetheart... you deserve so much more than a reward. I want to take you apart, piece by fucking piece.”

The intensity of his gaze and the hunger in his voice sends your mind spinning and your cunt dripping, but just as your lips part, ready to respond, the moment is shattered.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Shoko’s teasing voice cuts through the haze of desire, her playful smirk and a raised eyebrow unmistakable as she approaches with Suguru right behind her. “Auction’s about to start. Unless you two plan on putting on a show for the whole room?”

Satoru lets out a frustrated growl, his forehead pressing against yours as he takes a slow, steadying breath. His grip on your waist lingers for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold.

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters under his breath, casting a mock glare at Shoko and Suguru.

“Save it for later, Satoru,” Suguru chimes in with a chuckle, reveling in his annoyance. “There’ll be plenty of time for you two to... ‘catch up,’ after the auction, right?”

Satoru rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth. Leaning down, he places a lingering kiss upon your lips.

“Later, kay?” he murmurs, “This is far from over.”

❥

The atmosphere in the room shifts as the auction begins—the hum of conversation fading to a soft murmur. A dim glow washes over the ballroom, casting a warm light that bounces off the crystal chandeliers and reflects in the glasses scattered across the elegantly decorated tables. You sit comfortably beside Satoru, feeling the warmth of his hand resting casually on your thigh beneath the table—his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your skin.

There’s a soft hum of anticipation as the auctioneer takes the stage, microphone in hand—his voice cutting through the ambient noise with practiced ease.

“And now, for our first item for the evening,” the auctioneer announces with an air of ceremony. “We have something truly special—a limited-edition necklace from the Gojo Jewelry Collection. This timeless piece showcases the elegance of infinity, adorned with rare, precious sapphire jewels, designed exclusively for this event.”

Satoru sits up a little straighter, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. The rest of the room seems to follow his gaze as the spotlight shifts to the display case. And there it is—the necklace.

It gleams under the warm lighting, the infinity pendant catching the rays in a way that makes the jewels shimmer like stars. The design is breathtaking, a perfect balance of boldness and grace, simplicity and luxury.

You’ve always admired Satoru’s designs, but this one feels particularly special. It’s more than just a piece of jewelry; it’s a statement, a testament to his creativity and craftsmanship.

You can’t help but lean in closer to Satoru, admiration bubbling within as the pendant slowly spins on its pedestal, casting tiny flecks of light across the room.

“It’s gorgeous,” you breathe.

Satoru’s lips curve into a self-satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with pride.

“Mmm, told ya it’d turn some heads,” he murmurs. “Definitely one of my favorites.”

Your gaze sweeps across the room to gauge the crowd’s reaction, and then you see her—Mei-Mei—sitting at one of the prime tables, posture immaculate, her sharp eyes already fixed on the necklace with a look of pure, calculated hunger.

Of course.

Of course, she’d want his necklace—because it’s not just about the necklace itself—it’s the prestige of wearing something tied to Satoru, a statement that she could have something rare, exclusive, and coveted.

“This necklace represents timeless elegance and endless love,” the auctioneer says smoothly, offering a subtle nod toward Satoru. “And, as a limited edition, we are thrilled to offer this piece. It’s truly one of a kind, created exclusively for tonight’s event.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

Oh? Is that what it represents?

Well then—who are you to let Mei-Mei walk away with it? The idea of her winning something tied to Satoru, of her flaunting that connection, fuels a competitive spark in you.

The bidding starts, and unsurprisingly, Mei-Mei is quick to raise her paddle, her face smug with satisfaction as she bids confidently.

“Six thousand!” the auctioneer calls out, voice booming through the ballroom.

Leaning back slightly in your chair, your fingers casually brush over Satoru’s hand on your thigh. He looks at you, his curious gaze meeting yours as you offer him a knowing smirk, and he quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you lazily raise your paddle.

“Seven thousand,” a soft smile graces your lips.

Satoru’s grip tightens slightly on your thigh, and you feel the low hum of approval rumbling from him. Mei-Mei’s eyes snap toward you, narrowing in disbelief—she clearly hadn’t expected you to join in. But there it is—that flicker of annoyance. Her paddle goes up again, just as you knew it would.

“Ten thousand,” Mei-Mei counters.

The auctioneer nods in her direction. “Ten thousand! Do I hear twelve?”

Without missing a beat, you lift your paddle once more, your smile growing. “Twelve thousand.”

Satoru’s eyes glitter with amusement as he watches the subtle tension building between you and Mei-Mei. His hand slides a little higher on your thigh, fingers pressing with a bit more intent as he leans in—breath warm against your ear.

“Fuck… this is seriously turning me on way more than it should…” he mutters. “You’re going to make her lose her mind.”

You bite back a grin. “Mmm, well, that’s the plan.”

The bidding continues, but now Mei-Mei hesitates, the confidence in her posture starting to falter.

“Fifteen thousand,” you say smoothly, your paddle already raised.

Mei-Mei’s lips press together into a thin line. Her eyes flash with frustration as she debates whether to push higher. After a tense moment, she raises her paddle again, but her voice lacks its earlier bravado.

“Sixteen thousand,” a hint of uncertainty creeps into her tone.

You don’t even flinch.

“Twenty thousand.”

Satoru’s fingers tighten on your thigh again, his breath hitching slightly as he leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“God, you’re so damn hot when you’re like this,” he growls, shifting slightly in his seat from his growing erection.

Your heart races with satisfaction as your eyes lock on Mei-Mei’s once more, daring her to keep going. But the resolve in her eyes wavers. Slowly, with a barely concealed pout, she lowers her paddle.

“Twenty thousand, going once… going twice… sold to the lovely lady in the elegant gown!” The auctioneer’s gavel comes down with a decisive crack, and the room erupts into polite applause.

As the ripple of applause moves throughout the room, it’s Mei-Mei’s sour expression that you relish in most. Ah, victory feels sweet.

You lean back in your chair, turning to Satoru with a playful, victorious smile.

“Well… that was fun.”

He’s practically beaming, eyes dark with pride and something more as his hand slips up your thigh—teasingly close to your core now.

“I swear to God… I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the rest of this auction without pulling you into the nearest empty room and fucking you.”

His words make your pussy drip, but before you can respond, the auctioneer’s voice booms once again, drawing your attention back to the stage.

“And now, we have something special for the next event. This is one of our unique auction segments—where attendees have the chance to bid for a dance with one of our lovely participants. All the proceeds will go to tonight’s charity, of course.”

There’s a murmur of interest from the crowd, a few amused chuckles as people begin to sit up a little straighter. You, however, remain mostly unbothered, still riding the high from outbidding Mei-Mei— and the arousal of Satoru’s fingers caressing your thigh underneath the table.

But then, something pulls your attention back to the stage—a faint thread of confusion beginning to weave through your thoughts as you hear the list of names being read out.

Did you… just hear your name? Wait… what?

You whip your head toward Satoru—and his expression mirrors your confusion, eyebrows raising slightly. But before you can fully register what’s happening, you catch sight of Suguru across the table—grin wide, eyes glinting with mischief.

Oh no…

Your mind scrambles, replaying the events of earlier in the night. Suguru had been chatting with you, something about the auction—while you were busy being thoroughly distracted by Satoru's relentless teasing with the Hula beads. The memories blur together, but now you realize…

Oh god… you’d been so focused on the pleasure that you barely even processed Suguru’s words. Did you accidentally agree to this?

Before you can react, the auctioneer is already moving forward, inviting the women participating in the dance auction to step on stage. And there it is—your name again, clear as day, listed among them.

Satoru stiffens beside you, his grip on your thigh tightening as he whips his head toward Suguru. A pointed look flashes across his face, but Suguru, oh, Suguru—he’s practically glowing with amusement. Leaning back in his chair, his arms cross over his chest as if enjoying every second of this unfolding chaos.

“Suguru…” Satoru hisses under his breath. “Was this your doing?”

Suguru shrugs, his smirk widening in response to the clear irritation radiating from Satoru.

“What?” he says with faux innocence. “y/n agreed to it.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow and his grip on you tightens. There’s a moment of tension as you feel him lean in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he growls, “…you agreed to this?”

Your mind scrambles for an explanation, but before you can respond, Suguru’s voice cuts in again.

“It’s for charity,” Suguru adds with a playful lilt. “It’ll be fun.”

His words hang in the air like a taunt, and Satoru’s eyes narrow at Suguru—his possessive grip tightening on your plush thigh as his jaw clenches.

“C’mon Satoru. Let’s see how much your girl is worth.”

As the auctioneer repeats your name over the microphone, drawing the crowd’s attention to you, you feel every pair of eyes in the room turning in your direction. Satoru leans in closer—his breath warm against your ear.

“Fine then… I hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, the teasing edge in his voice betraying the simmering tension beneath it.

Your stomach flips from the intensity of his gaze, and you hesitate for a moment—glancing between the stage and Satoru. Uh oh… the heat is rolling off him in waves—it’s clear he’s not thrilled with the idea of you being up there for everyone to bid on, but… what is that mischievous glint in his eye?

That’s a bit… unsettling.

Reluctantly, you stand—your heart racing as you smooth down your dress and make your way toward the stage. The spotlight warms your skin, and the auctioneer welcomes you with an enthusiastic gesture. But before you can fully settle into the moment, you feel it—a soft, familiar pulse deep within you.

Fucking hell. Here?

The vibrations start low, teasing, but enough to make your knees wobble slightly as you stand in front of the crowd. You glance down at Satoru, who remains seated, his eyes locked onto you with an almost predatory gleam. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk as his fingers tap lightly against his thigh—a silent admission that he’s the one behind the sudden wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

He is cruel—doing this while you’re on stage.

The auctioneer wastes no time, diving right into the event as he begins introducing each woman on stage, one by one. The crowd’s attention is fixed on the participants as the bids for each woman slowly climb higher, some reaching $5,000 before being closed off with a cheerful crack of the auctioneer’s gavel.

But as you stand there—your heart thudding in your chest as you wait for your turn—the vibrations pulsing deep inside you are a constant, teasing reminder of Satoru’s hold over you.

“And now, for our next participant—y/n!” The auctioneer’s voice rings out, and the crowd’s attention immediately shifts to you. A murmur ripples through the ballroom as you stand in the spotlight, trying to maintain your composure—but the slow, torturous vibrations leave you dripping in front of everyone.

You swallow hard as the auctioneer begins at a low price, and before anyone else can react, Satoru’s hand shoots up.

“Five thousand,” he calls out, voice steady, eyes locked on you.

Before you can process it fully, another voice cuts in, smooth and confident—Suguru.

“Seven thousand,” his gaze flickers briefly to Satoru—daring him to up the stakes.

Satoru clenches his jaw, but his gaze never leaves yours. His hand goes up again.

“Ten thousand.”

Your breath hitches—this bidding is escalating so quickly it’s making your head spin, and the relentless vibrations are driving you wild.

Suguru chuckles as he raises his paddle, enjoying every second of this. “Twenty thousand,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair.

The crowd murmurs, a few gasps here and there, but no one dares interrupt this battle of wills between the two men. You bite your lip, feeling the pulse of the beads inside you grow stronger. Fuckfuckfuck… your body reacts involuntarily, and a soft gasp escapes your lips.

Satoru notices immediately and the corner of his lips twitch up slightly. His gaze darkens, and without missing a beat, he raises his paddle once more. “Fifty thousand.”

The room falls silent, and your heart drums in your chest, racing alongside the vibrations tormenting your body. Shifting your weight slightly, your pussy hums in pleasure under the spotlight—struggling to hold yourself together.

Suguru, leans back, arms crossing over his chest as he studies Satoru, clearly impressed by his boldness. Then, just as it looks like he’s about to raise his paddle again, Satoru leans forward and his voice drops even lower.

“One hundred thousand.”

The crowd gasps. The entire ballroom seems to shift—stunned by the sheer audacity of the number.

Raising an eyebrow, Suguru lets out a low amused whistle. Then, with a smirk, he raises his hands in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath. “Well, well, Satoru… looks like you win.”

As Suguru places his paddle down, the grin plastered upon his face makes it painfully obvious –he’s thoroughly enjoyed how far this has gone, and the auctioneer, momentarily speechless, quickly attempts to recover.

“One hundred thousand, going once… going twice…” he slams his gavel down with a sharp crack. “Sold to Mr. Gojo for one hundred thousand dollars!”

The applause that follows feels distant—entirely drowned out by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your wet cunt. This is torture. Your legs are weak, your pulse racing, and Satoru’s eyes are locked on you, burning with intensity.

Leaning back in his chair, a slow possessive smirk spreads across his lips.

He’s told the entire room—and you—that you belong to him.

❥

The applause disappears into background noise as Satoru grabs your hand—a grip that’s firm and relentless. There’s no time for conversation, no time for teasing words—he’s already pulling you away from the auction, weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides.

The way his body is practically humming with urgency, tells you everything—it’s an urgency that matches the pulsing throb still lingering in your clit from his playful torture during the auction.

You stumble slightly to keep up as he moves through the dim lights of the ballroom—everything blurring together as he maneuvers through tables. Once you reach the edge of the room, he guides you into one of the shadowy hallways leading away from the event.

“Satoru…” the moment his name leaves your lips, he shoots a glance back at you, dark and filled with unbridled need.

“Not a fucking word,” his grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you along. “If you say another word…” his breath hitches, “I’ll fuck you right here, against this wall. I don’t care who sees.”

Oh, he’s barely restrained—it’s a hunger that’s been building all night.

Everything fades into the background as he guides you down the empty corridor, and the moment he reaches a single door hidden at the end, he’s shoving it open and dragging you inside.

The room is dimly lit, but he doesn’t give you the time of day to take in your surroundings—no—he’s on you in an instant.

“I can’t fucking wait any longer,” kicking the door shut with his foot, his hands immediately find your waist as he presses you up against the nearest wall. “Fucking finally…” he growls, rolling his erection against you, making you gasp. “Feel that?” his lips brush against your ear as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass tightly. “That’s what you’ve done to me all night.”

“Satoru—” he cuts you off with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

Your head spins as his hands rampantly roam your body. He’s desperate for you—grunting as he pins you—the wall against your back, his cock between your legs. His forceful friction makes your body arch, and you can feel his smug smirk curling against your lips as you let out a soft, needy moan.

He pulls away—his lips grazing your jawline as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

“Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to sit there,” he accentuates his words with a ruthless thrust, “seeing you squirm, knowing you were soaking wet and no one else could tell?”

His lips crash back into yours, devouring you before he pulls away again.

“…watching you tell Mei-Mei off, knowing you’re mine,” his cock twitches at the memory as he grinds into you again, “fuck when you outbid her…all I could think about was bending you over that damn table to fuck you right in front of her.”

The filthy image he paints in your mind sends a surge of heat through your body, “fuck, that’s so hot…” you let out a breathless moan, your legs trembling as your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “Need you, now.”

Another bruising kiss follows, his teeth grazing your lower lip, biting down gently before releasing it. He pulls away, and your cunt drips the moment he commands,

“Turn around.”

You oblige—moving on instinct as you spin around. Your palms press flat against the cool wall and your back arches just slightly as you present yourself to him.

Completely at his mercy—exactly how you both want it.

“Fuck, you look so perfect like this."

You hold your breath as his fingers purposefully slide over your ass, and the moment his hands find the hem of your dress, he gathers the fabric in his fists and urgently bunches it up your thighs, allowing the cool air to hit the wet fabric between your legs.

“Look at you,” he coos, tugging the dress up higher. “You’re fucking dripping, baby,” your heat intensifies as his fingers trace an outline on your pussy. “Jesus, you’re fucking soaked… wearing these beads all night… so wet for me.”

As he tugs your drenched panties down in one fell swoop, his fingers trace the slickness of your cunt—curling between the thin string of the Hula beads.

“You took them so well… now let me show you what comes next.”

You shudder as he slowly, torturously starts to remove them—the device dragging against your sensitive core, making your knees tremble. He hums in approval as the last of the Hula beads slip out.

But as you exhale shakily, Satoru doesn’t give you a moment to recover.

“—‘toru!” his hands grip your hips firmly as he forcefully guides to towards a nearby vanity—positioning himself behind you as he pushes you down in front of the mirror.

“You’ve had your fun baby, but now it’s my turn,” as the words leave his lips, you hear the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down—the urgency is evident in the way his hands work to release himself. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”

You gasp the moment his free cock presses against your bare skin, and your pussy grows more wet from the sound of him stroking himself, mixed with the shallow breaths escaping his lips.

Once you catch sight of his reflection in the mirror—cock in hand, eyes dark with lust, jaw clenched with restraint—fuck you know. He was feral.

His weeping tip lines up against your entrance.

“Look at you, trembling already…” he coos, rubbing your combined slick with his dick. “So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Your head drops down and your legs quiver as he teases your entrance—fucking hell what is he waiting for? It’s maddening. You want to be filled, to finally feel the sweet release you’ve been tortuously denied all night.

Glancing up, you catch sight of his infuriating smirk in the reflection.

“Satoru, please hurry up,” you whine as his cock brushes against your clit.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Patience princess.”

You can’t wait.

Without his permission, you rock your hips back, and he slides in effortlessly as you take him in with one swift motion. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as his thick cock becomes soaked in your wetness, stretching you full.

Satoru sucks in a sharp breath—his grip on your hips tightening as he struggles to hold back the urge to burst inside you the very moment he bottoms out, right then and there. Your cunt is too fucking good.

"Fucking—wait, wait, wait," he hisses through clenched teeth—his cock twitching and his eyes fluttering shut as he quickly tries to steady himself.

You bite your lip, trembling as you watch his reaction in the mirror—the way he’s flexing…shuddering… oh god. How can you wait?

“Satoru… nngh,” your hips roll against him in slow deliberate motions, “haa—can’t wait anymore.”

His eyes snap open at your words, watching your reflection as his jaw clenches with unbridled restraint. He pursues his lips and exhales through his nose—and in that instant, there’s an immediate shift in him—a moment of pure unadulterated lust.

“Needy little thing…” his grip is, forceful, bruising as he growls, “goddamn it, princess…you couldn’t fucking wait. Fine.”

Oh, you’ve done it now.

Pulling back, he removes his dick just enough to slam forward with a brutal force that makes you cry out in pleasure. You drop your head on the vanity surface, gasping as he buries himself deep inside you.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He sets a brutal pace, each thrust harder as your pussy stretches around his thick pulsing cock—it’s too much, too perfect. The pleasure courses through your veins like fire as he drives into you with a relentless ferocity, leaving you shaking.

The vanity dresser rattles under his force, and the mirror reflects every delicious second of it—your body arching, your mouth falling open, the glazed-over look in your eyes as he ravishes your cunt. But most of all, the way Satoru watches you fall apart for him—possessive and proud.

His hand moves from your hips, sliding up the curve of your body to grip your chin. You whimper as he shifts deeper, leaning forward and forcing your gaze to peer directly in the mirror.

“C’mon now, look at yourself,” he pants, ragged as his hips slam into you with an unrelenting force. “Look how fucking pretty you look taking me like this.”

The pressure coils tight between your legs and your body hums as the pleasure becomes immeasurable. You don’t even realize how your eyes begin to flutter shut—not until his grip tightens on your chin, directing it forcefully to stare at your own reflection.

“No, no. Don’t you dare look away,” he slips two fingers in your mouth and you whimper at the intrusion. “Want you to see what a good girl you are for me.”

God, your head is spinning—the sight of watching him fuck you was so… erotic.

His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smirk as he takes in the sight of you completely fucked out—desperate, needy, sucking his fingers as you try to keep your eyes open, teetering on the edge of bliss—oh his cock twitches inside you.

“Haa—yesss… that’s my good girl…so fucking pretty. Takin m’ so well.”

The rhythm of his hips becomes erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper, each one sending jolts of ecstasy rippling through you. His breath becomes labored as his chest heaves against your back, and you can tell—yes, you can feel it—you’re both so close. So fucking close.

Each plunge pushes you further toward the edge, and your moans are muffled against his fingers. The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter until you can hardly breathe.

“This what you wanted?” his fingers slip out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting them before he brings his hand down, wrapping around your throat. “Tell me,” he pants, “say how fucking good I feel inside you.”

“—haa, so good…” you gasp, “’toru I’m—"

Your words are cut off by a shuddering cry as your body spasms, the intense pleasure crashing over you like a violent wave as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls tighten around him, coating his cock with your sweet slick as your body trembles uncontrollably in bliss.

“Fuuuck—that’s it, yes baby… squeeze me just like that,” his grip tightens on your throat as his hips slam into yours with reckless abandon. “So tight… fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He’s panting, his chest pressed against your back as the wet slaps of skin against skin fills the room.

His pace quickens and the overstimulation pushes you further, prolonging your orgasm. You feel your legs begin the weaken as you can barely hold yourself up against the vanity—his cock relentlessly hitting that spot deep inside you.

“’toru—fuck,” you cry, reeling from your climax, “need you to cum… please—”

His jaw clenches, and his breath shudders as he tries to hold back, but the sight of you, completely undone and begging drives him absolutely wild. With a low deep groan, his hands grip your hips as he rapidly chases his own release.

“God—fuck—anything for you… just for you, baby,” he rasps as the tension coils tight in his gut. “Shit—I’m gonna fill you up… fuck, take it all.”

His cock twitches violently as he buries himself deep with one final, brutal thrust. Your name falls from his lips in breathless broken murmurs as he erupts inside you—warm sticky cum filling you to the brim and painting your walls white.

“Haaa—yess… good girl… good fucking girl,” his hips stutter erratically and his head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut.

You feel his grip on your hip loosen as he finally comes to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you move, and neither of you speak—just the sound of your heavy breathing as his chest rises and falls heavily against your back.

His fingers begin to gently brush against your waist, tracing slow soothing patterns—a touch so tender compared to that relentless grip he held on you just moments before, and a warm shiver shoots through you as you feel his lips brush against your shoulder in a soft, lingering kiss.

“I fucking love you, y’know that?” he murmurs affectionately.

A warmth blooms deep in your chest, spreading outward from his words.

“I love you too,” there is both exhaustion and endearment in your voice as you turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, wearing a grin.

His still heavy-lidded eyes lock onto yours and a lazy, adoring smile spreads across his lips.

“Y’know…” he leans down to press a kiss to the curve of your neck, “I dunno what I did to deserve you but…” he nuzzles into your neck and his arms wrap around you, “I’m never letting you go.”

You lean into his touch and hum pensively, “Good. Cause you’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles softly, holding you close and basking in the moment. Then, he grunts as he lifts himself up—wincing slightly as he finally pulls his spent cock from you. The sensation makes you both involuntarily shudder.

You sigh, leaning forward on the vanity, and with a surprising tenderness, he leans down and uses his handkerchief to begin cleaning you up carefully—wiping away the evidence of your shared pleasure.

But as his fingers brush delicately against your still oversensitive sex, a small whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks at the sound and his eyes glint with amusement, clearly pleased by your reaction.

“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, though his touch remains gentle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to hide the smile tugging at your lips by burying your face into your arms—resting against the vanity.

“Well, what’d you expect?” you huff with mock exasperation—breath unsteady as he finishes cleaning you. “After the way you were teasing me all night?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as his fingers linger a moment too long on your inner thighs, grazing dangerously close to where you’re still tender.

“Couldn’t help it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping a register. "You make it impossible to keep my hands off you…"

You suck in a sharp breath and glance back, giving him a playful but pointed look.

"Careful," you warn. "Or we’ll never make it back."

That devilishly charming grin curls upon his lips as his hands slide up and down your legs. “Mmm… well maybe I don’t want to make it back.”

Your breath hitches as his fingertips graze your skin one last time—then, he reaches down for your panties, and you watch through the mirror how he pockets them before finally smoothing down your bunched-up dress.

You glance back and shoot him a look, earning you a wicked grin.

“You’re hopeless…” you mumble, shaking your head as you straighten up, but before you can fully stand, his chest presses against your back, and you feel his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

A soft sigh escapes him as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply.

“It’s not fair... I don’t wanna go back,” he whines. “I just want to hold you… keep you all to myself tonight.”

"We’ll have all night after this," you murmur, turning to kiss his cheek softly. "C’mon… just a little longer and I’m all yours."

He groans, and you try to break the embrace, but suddenly he spins you around and his hands drift to your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

"But I dunno if I can behave for that long…" he whispers, tenderly caressing your cheek. "You say that… but I’m already thinking about sneaking you away again. Can’t help myself."

Stifling a smile, you roll your eyes as you place a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back so you can get a better look at him.

"You're lucky I love you," you say with a mock sigh, reaching up to fix the collar of his shirt and smoothing down the wrinkles in his tux.

He watches you with that same lazy, adoring smile.

"Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it, princess."

❥

As the gala comes to a close, the party moves to the outside garden, with the warm autumn night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The chatter of guests mingles with the soft rustling of the trees, and the leaves have started turning shades of orange and red, but there’s still that lingering hint of summer in the air—a warmth that keeps the chill at bay.

There is a sense of awe in the way that the string lights twinkle above the garden, casting a soft glow over the crowd—and you stand beside Satoru amongst the masses, the warmth of his hand in yours.

But… for some reason there’s a certain energy radiating from him—something… different. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this last hour—a muted tension, almost like he’s… distracted?

“Satoru,” you ask softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “You okay?”

He blinks, pulled out of whatever thoughts were clouding his mind, and turns to you with a soft smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” leaning in, his lips peck your temple, “just thinkin’.”

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

Thinking about what?

But before the words can leave your lips, the auctioneer from earlier approaches you, a bright smile on his face.

“Ah, Miss y/n, there you are,” he begins. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the event this year. I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your win tonight. Here is your necklace—it truly is one-of-a-kind.”

He holds out a sleek black box, and your eyes light up as you take it from him.

“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You accept the box eagerly, your fingers moving quickly to open it, and the moment the necklace comes into view, your eyes widen. The jewels glimmer under the soft glow of the garden lights—with the intricately delicate curves and sparkling stones exuding an elegance that immediately captivates you.

“It’s even more stunning in person,” you breathe out, running your fingers over the smooth, polished metal.

Satoru peers down at the necklace in your hand, his lips curling into a subtle smirk.

“Mmm… well you fought well for it,” he teases lightly.

The auctioneer chuckles, nodding in agreement. “It was quite the bidding war. Congratulations once again, Miss y/n.” With a courteous nod, he steps back into the crowd, leaving you and Satoru alone under the twinkling garden lights.

As you turn to face Satoru, a victorious grin tugs at the corner of your lips. Holding the necklace up, you boast proudly.

“Told ya Mei-Mei didn’t stand a chance”

You’re relieved how the comment seems to make your typical Satoru return—his lips curl into a deep smirk and amusement dances in his bright eyes.

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow, “You certainly went to war for this, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you playfully huff, lifting your chin proudly. “But, let’s be honest—you did an amazing job designing it. So of course, there was no way I was letting it go. It was all mine from the start.”

He hums softly, and just as quickly as it appeared, his cocky edge easily fades into something more tender. His gaze lingers on you, making your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah well… what can I say?” he tilts his head, “I know my girl’s taste.”

My girl.

You can’t help the gentle smile that breaks across your face, your heart swelling

“You do,” you whisper softly. “I love it.”

For a moment, the world fades away as you hold his gaze—a tenderness swirling in the familiar blue depths of his eyes. Then, he takes a small step closer.

“Here,” he murmurs, taking the necklace from your hand, “let me help you put it on.”

You nod as he moves behind you, and you hold your breath as his fingers delicately brush your skin—gathering your hair to one side. A soft shiver shoots down your spine from his touch, and he lingers while fastening the clasp around the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace settles against you, but it’s the warmth of his hands that hold your attention.

After fastening the clasp with a quiet focus, his breath fans lightly over your ear as he leans in.

“There. It’s perfect.”

You raise your hand, lightly touching the pendant now resting against your collarbone, and turn to face him. His eyes aren’t on the necklace though—they’re entirely on you.

He takes a moment, letting his gaze travel over your face before meeting your own.

“You’re absolutely stunning,” he says softly, “I think it looks even better on you than I imagined.”

Your heart flutters wildly and his fingers tuck a stray lock of your hair gently behind your ear. Leaning in slightly, you melt as he pulls you in for a tender kiss. The warmth of his lips moves slowly, languidly against yours, and your hand comes up to rest against his chest—feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Just as your lips part, your eyes flicker up to meet his. There is an intensity in his gaze that catches you off guard, making your breath hitch.

Why? Why does it feel like there is something simmering beneath the surface with him tonight?

But before you can sit on that thought any more, the speakers crackle to life, breaking the quiet intimacy and drawing your attention back to the event.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your incredible generosity tonight!” the announcers voice echoes through the garden. “I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s charity gala has raised an astounding amount—thanks to your support, we’ve reached over two million dollars to benefit our causes!”

Applause erupts from the crowd below, and you turn your head, listening, but your eyes flicker back to Satoru, whose demeanor shifts ever so slightly as he listens. His jaw tightens, and his gaze turns distant for a moment. It's like he’s suddenly lost in thought.

What is up with him tonight?

“And now,” the announcer continues, “to wrap up this wonderful evening, we invite you to stay and enjoy the grand firework show, which will begin in just five minutes. Thank you again for attending, and have a magical night!”

The speakers cut off with a soft crackle, and the garden fills with clapping and cheers. Yet, as you glance at Satoru, he remains in his own world. Just as you’re about to open your mouth, Suguru suddenly swings into view, his arm draping casually over Satoru’s shoulder—oblivious to the lingering tension.

“There you are!” he chimes in with a grin. Satoru clears his throat, and they exchange a quick knowing glance between each other and your brow furrows as a subtle tension begins to crackle between them.

“Mind if I steal Satoru for a quick minute?” he turns, grinning to you—but there’s an undercurrent of something more serious beneath his demeanor.

Okay… is there something going on? Whatever it is, it feels like you’re being left out of the loop.

“Uh, yeah… sure,” you watch them step a few paces away, murmuring quietly to one another—catching glimpses of their expressions. Satoru looks unconventionally nervous as Suguru’s lips move quickly. Unusual…whatever they’re discussing, it’s clearly important to have Satoru on edge.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow as you watch the two of them.

What on earth are they plotting now?

After a few moments, they return. Satoru’s still got that charged energy, but there’s a determination in his eyes. Suguru, on the other hand, is grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“What’s going on?” you ask, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Oh, y’know, charity event stuff. Nothing too serious.” Suguru shrugs.

Riiiight… he’s clearly not going to give you any more information.

You narrow your eyes at him but before you can press further, Satoru reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Suguru, catching the subtle tension, clears his throat and flashes you both a wide grin.

"Well, see you guys around," he says casually, waving flippantly. "I’m gonna grab one last drink before the fireworks start."

As he turns on his heel and walks away, Satoru’s hand gently tugs at yours, pulling you in the opposite direction—away from the crowd, away from the noise.

"C’mon," he murmurs, voice soft, almost hesitant.

You follow him, his hand gently guiding you towards a quiet stairwell that leads up to the venue’s balcony. But just as you approach the stairs, an event organizer steps into your path, clipboard in hand. She looks frazzled, her brow furrowed with stress.

"Oh! Mr. Gojo," she says, breathless, walking right up to the two of you. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’re finalizing some last-minute details regarding the auction earlier, and we really need—"

Before she can finish, Shoko appears seemingly out of nowhere, sliding up beside the woman with a smooth grin.

“Ah, don’t worry about them,” Shoko interrupts flawlessly, throwing an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “I’ve got it handled.”

The event organizer blinks, clearly taken aback, but Shoko doesn’t give her a moment to protest. Instead, she steers the woman gently back toward the crowd, already launching into some topic you can’t hear.

As they walk away, Shoko glances back at Satoru, giving him a subtle nod and mouthing “go” before disappearing into the crowd.

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can process the exchange, Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile as he tugs on your hand, already leading you up the stairs.

“What was that about?” you ask, glancing back down at Shoko’s retreating figure.

“Oh y’know… Shoko being Shoko,” he chuckles with a shrug, but there’s a nervousness to his laugh—something you’ve never heard from him before.

You narrow your eyes playfully, about to ask more, but the view from the top of the balcony cuts off your train of thought—leaving you breathless.

It’s draped in soft, glowing lights, casting a warm amber hue over the garden stretching out below. Elegant vines with autumn-colored leaves weave through the steel railings, and a gentle breeze carries with it the scent of the distant garden flowers—chrysanthemums, marigolds, and asters—a lingering warmth of late summer giving way to autumn.

The night sky sprawls out before you like an infinite canvas—stars twinkling faintly—but it's the stillness and beauty of this shared moment that makes your heart flutter. Then, the first firework shoots up into the air with a soft whistle.

It arcs gracefully against the night sky before erupting into a dazzling cascade of golden sparks, raining down like glittering stardust. You marvel how the garden below transforms into a dreamscape of warm, glowing embers. Then, another follows, this time a burst of deep red. The colors ripple and shimmer, fading into soft blues and purples, mixing like watercolors against the canvas of the night sky.

But as you stand there, entranced by the beauty of the fireworks, you slowly begin to realize that Satoru isn’t watching the sky at all.

He’s watching you.

You shift, turning your attention to him now, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous at the way he’s looking at you. Your breath hitches as he steps closer, taking your hand into his own. He lifts it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Why aren’t you watching the fireworks?” you murmur.

The sound of the next firework shoots into the sky, cutting the quiet between you and painting the night in a burst of blue. He lowers your hand from his lips and his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion—as if memorizing the feel of you.

“Because they’re not what I want to see tonight.”

The weight of his words makes your heart swell, and the softness in his voice sends a shiver through you—but before you can respond, he reaches into his pocket, and your eyes widen as he pulls out a small velvet box.

Just as he drops to one knee, another firework explodes in the sky behind him, casting a colorful hue of violet and silver over his features.

“y/n…” he smiles steadily, eyes fixed only on you. “I know I mess around a lot, and I don’t always take things as seriously as I should, but this… this is the one thing I’ve never been more sure about in my life.”

Your breath catches as he opens the small velvet box—revealing a ring inside that is nothing short of breathtaking. The centerpiece is a brilliant-cut diamond—flawless, sparkling, and catching the light from the fireworks above—shimmering in a thousand dazzling directions. The diamond is set within a delicate band of platinum, but what makes it truly special is the intricate design surrounding it.

The band curves into an elegant, infinity loop—symbolizing the eternal bond you share. Small diamonds are delicately embedded along the loop, creating a river of light and wrapping around your finger like a never-ending promise. But the Gojo family’s infinity design isn’t just in the band—it’s in the very shape of the setting, which cradles the diamond in a way that feels both secure and limitless, a perfect balance between strength and grace.

It’s more than a ring—it’s a reflection of your love, infinite and unbreakable, meant to last forever.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ve loved you from the moment we met, and every day since has been better than the last because you’re by my side. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to.”

Your chest tightens and tears begin to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. As his words sink into your heart, time seems to slow.

“So…” he takes a deep breath, his smile widening, “will you marry me?”

Another firework explodes overhead, filling the sky with shimmering gold and blue, but you barely hear it.

The only thing that matters in this moment is him.

Your tears spill over as you choke out the words, nodding quickly.

“Yes… yes, of course.”

And in that moment, the joy that spreads across his face is radiant—a pure, unfiltered happiness that lights up his entire expression. His hands, normally so steady, tremble ever so slightly as he slips the ring onto your finger.

With the ring in place, Satoru stands, and before you can say a word, he pulls you into his arms—lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in celebration. The sky explodes with bright colors as your shared laughter sings alongside the symphony of lights.

Your face buries into his shoulder as you laugh through the happy tears spilling down your cheeks—overwhelmed by the sheer joy of it all as you cling to him—as if nothing else in the world matters.

“I love you,” you whisper, muffled by his shoulder.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes shimmer with emotion. Then, his smile softens, and a thumb comes up to gently brush away a tear still clinging to your cheek.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, “for infinity.”

The words wrap around you like a promise, as real as the ring now on your finger. His lips find yours, and the rest of the world fades away. The fireworks are coming to an end, and while the final bursts fill the sky behind you, painting the horizon in brilliant shades of color—it’s the warmth of Satoru’s arms, his love, and the promise of forever, that truly lights up your world—like none other.

a/n. i feel like i went through all the emotions writing this fic lol! i was in a very smutty mood, but also in a very fluffy mood 🥰 anyways, this was super fun to create—it's not entirely halloween-esque but i guess it kind of is at the same time? 😛 i do wanna thank my amazing friend @strychnynegirl for sparking all the inspiration and helping me with this 💕 she's amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without her. thanks so much for reading ya'll ✨

tags: @fushitoru @lovebittenbyevans @genshingeeksworld @myahfig4

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anto-pops · 27 days ago

Text

Just a Taste - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: From the moment you’d set foot in his residence in the N109 Zone, Sylus had been suffering. Being around you always tested his restraint and control, but with the new addition of The Spatium Core’s energy thrumming through your veins, he was struggling to hold himself back. His self-disciple crumbles little by little, until finally his need to devour you in more ways than one takes over.

After you realize what’s been afflicting him in the wake of escaping the collision chamber, you decide to let him indulge his unquenchable thirst for you.

Alternatively summarized as Sylus progressively losing his mind over how delicious you smell during the Zoion Hunt, which is then followed by desperate, animalistic sex.

Word Count: 11.2k

Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, blood/injury, explicit sexual content, animalistic behavior, obsessive behavior, size difference, rough sex

New Sylus oneshot is also up on Ao3 (with more specific tags)

Sylus saw red as the metallic tang of your blood filled the decrepit room. Figuratively and literally.

The withered hag was looking up at you with warring looks of regret and determination, her wrinkled, trembling hands wrapped tight around the handle of a smooth knife. It was so quiet that he could hear the steady drip, drip, drip of your blood hitting the floor, and for a few tense seconds, he could only watch the scene unfolding before him.

You, on the other hand, looked shocked. Part of him wanted to berate you for your naivety; in the N109 Zone, you couldn’t let your guard down around anyone. Not even feeble old women hiding out in abandoned buildings. But just as Sylus’ nature was to shoot first and ask questions later, yours was always to leap to the defense of the defenseless.

The fact that the old crone hadn’t been defenseless in this case was simply a… miscalculation.

Sylus’ less than stellar opinion of the old woman only worsened when she wrenched the knife free from your abdomen, your choked gasp breaking him out of his momentary stupor. “I– I didn’t mean to… I was trying to kill the Wanderer… you’re the one who got in the way!”

If he didn’t know any better, he would say the wench was lying. But the way her voice shook and her time-worn heart kicked up in her chest told him otherwise; she really was just a pitiful fool who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Zoion Hunt didn’t wait for the ordinary denizens of the Charon District to clear out before beginning. That the crone was still alive was a miracle in and of itself.

The knife fell from the woman’s hands as she backed up a step, at which point Sylus advanced forward. His imposing figure closing in sent the old woman scurrying for the front doors of the building, not once looking back to check if he was following her. As much as he wanted to physically rend her soul from her body, he had more important things to worry about.

Namely, you.

Your shallow intakes of breath were laced with pain, and as you attempted to stand straight to brace your hand on the shelf in front of you, your knees buckled. Sylus was there in a flash– catching you in his arms before you could hit the floor– and the sight of you suffering made him reconsider annihilating the culprit responsible. A tendril of blackish-red mist materialized behind the Onychinus leader as he willed it towards the fleeing woman, but your weak grip on his bicep tightened a fraction and stopped him.

“It’s not worth it,” you gritted through your teeth. Jerking your chin at the first-aid cabinet mounted to the wall, you managed to wheeze, “I need to take care of this before anything else.”

Sylus didn’t wait for you to protest; he supported the brunt of your weight and began walking you over to the ratty couch in the lobby of the building, all too amused by your attempts at digging your heels into the ground. Did you really think he would let you meander around with a gaping knife wound in your side? Please.

“Sylus, I can handle it, it’s not that bad– hey!”

As amusing as your independence was, now wasn’t the time for you to argue. Using his Evol, Sylus whisked you into the air by your arms, taking exceptional care to move you gently onto the sofa. He situated you across his lap, then extended his power over to the cabinet to fetch the first-aid kit. It landed beside him shortly thereafter– but since you were evidently unwilling to be outdone by him, you stubbornly snatched it and began thumbing at the latch.

After three failed attempts at opening it, Sylus sighed and shook his head. “You’ll break it if you keep doing that.”

“Whatever…”

“No need to show me your claws, kitten,” he mused with a smirk, sliding the kit out of your reach so he could take over. “You can save that for any more old ladies lurking around in the shadows.”

The huff of humorless laughter you let loose was strained thanks to the gaping wound in your side, so Sylus diligently got to work treating it. His movements were cautious and methodical– soft enough that you didn’t flinch or hiss– and after roughly three minutes of wiping away the blood, he moved to set down the ruddy cotton pads.

He froze, however, when he picked up on the scent that intermingled with your blood. It was power; raw, undiluted, and ever so alluring. That Aether Core you had absorbed had changed you on a molecular level, and from the moment you had walked into his house the day prior, Sylus had been doing his damndest to ignore the way it called to him. It was too tempting– too enchanting– and the effect it was having on him bordered on dangerous.

He was always in control of himself, but this? This was… uncharted territory.

Swallowing thickly, he was quick to toss the soiled cotton towards the edge of the couch and focus on plucking up the bottle of saline solution. He wasn’t nearly as mindful as he dumped a good amount over the fleshy bit of your skin, and Sylus noticed your brows draw together as you silently endured the stinging pain. Your eyes remained fixed on the ceiling all the while, which he couldn’t help but feel proud about.

You were a resilient little thing. You always had been, and he didn’t think you would ever stop impressing him. “Are you counting how many cables are up there?”

You shushed him lightly, drumming your fingers against his thigh. “Don’t interrupt me… I only got to twenty-seven.”

His smile was tight as he grabbed a roll of gauze from the box of medical supplies, the smell of your wound making rational thinking precariously difficult. It wasn’t your blood specifically that was giving him a hard time. Mostly it was the dissolved energy of the Spatium Core that resided within it now. It was unbelievably potent, and Sylus decided then and there that if you got injured again, he probably would let you handle it yourself.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what prolonged exposure to such a tantalizing aroma might do to him.

—

“Name your price. If I can afford it, then we have a deal.”

Sylus really wished you hadn’t said that. On one hand, the delivery of the comment back in the abandoned building had been lighthearted. A jest made in the midst of the total pandemonium that came with the Zoion Hunt. He always found the ease with which you adapted to stressful situations to be rather remarkable, and more often than not, your candor was amusing.

But every measured, controlled breath Sylus drew into his lungs was laced with your fragrant scent, and he was having a difficult time finding much of anything amusing at present. A repressed part of himself that he kept under lock and key when he was around you was quickly manifesting at the forefront of his mind against his will. Since he was currently trying to shake off the pursuers giving chase behind his stolen car, now really wasn’t the time for him to lose his inhibitions.

The lingering, phantom feeling of your forearm pinning itself to his throat was almost enough to distract him from the task at hand, but Sylus managed to keep his eyes trained on the road ahead as you leveled your gun out the window and fired off a quick succession of shots. You were pressed so close to him that the hair at the top of your head tickled his nose, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled another whiff of the potent, delicious Aether Core you had absorbed.

That was the only payment he could see fit to take from you. That was the only thing the beast within him yearned for.

But you were right about one thing; Sylus did want you to get stronger. As addictive as the Aether Core’s energy was, it suited you in a way that made his head fucking spin. He would never take it from you– would never dream of rending your soul from within you– but he couldn’t help but entertain the idea of a small taste.

If your blood and body as a whole emitted the alluring scent so easily, would the rest of you be the same? A choked laugh bubbled up in his throat, but thankfully it came out sounding more like a scoff.

The row of fluorescent lights lining the inside of the tunnel the two of you found yourselves traveling through whizzed by at rapid speed, creating something of a strobing effect as Sylus narrowed his eyes and pushed the Slyvernos to its limits. He was already putting the car through its paces– and he was none too pleased with the array of bullet holes that now decorated it– but there would be time to mourn the damage later. The EVER assailants recklessly pulled up alongside him, and Sylus heard you swear under your breath when your gun clicked harmlessly. It was a bold move that only served to brutalize the rare car further, but to buy you some time to reload, he swerved sideways to ram against the vehicle full of attackers.

Your hands slapped around blindly for the spare magazine near the center console, but the Onychinus leader beat you to the punch. He swiftly plucked it up from within the cup holder, pinching it between two fingers so you could eject the spent clip from your gun before sliding the new one in. “Need a change of perspective?”

Your brows furrowed at him questioningly, your flushed cheeks conveying your bewilderment well enough, so Sylus jerked his chin up towards the ceiling of the car at the same time he slammed his fist into the button that controlled the sunroof. The glass panel began to slide open, and without any hesitation, you sat up to hoist yourself through it. Watching you fight had no right to be so arousing, he thought to himself.

Sylus damn near crashed the fucking car when you perched your knee on his shoulder, though.

“I’m charging extra for this,” you purred coyly, the toned length of your thigh on full display in his periphery. The wickedly short skirt the Association had the gall to call a uniform was going to be the death of him, he realized.

Instinctively, Sylus wrapped his right arm around your leg to stabilize you, pressing your thigh against the side of his head as he took to steering with one hand. Shots rang out overhead as you unleashed an unforgiving attack with your twin pistols, the sound of tires screeching and glass shattering echoing throughout the tunnel. Sylus did his best to keep the car moving straight so you weren’t at risk of flying out of the sunroof, but you still found yourself leaning heavily into him. The smokey scent of gunpowder and car exhaust wasn’t strong enough to mask the smell of you– and between the Spatium Core you had absorbed and the natural sweetness you exuded, Sylus was quickly coming undone by your bewitching aroma.

The car remained steady as he dug his fingers into the bare skin of your thigh, turning his head ever so slightly so he could sigh hotly against your leg. Nails and teeth scraped against your flesh– the primal urge to bite taking root– but he refrained as he reminded himself where the two of you were. His cock twitched in his pants at the unique form of torture he was currently being subjected to.

An explosion shook the entirety of the tunnel, sending you diving for cover within the sanctity of the car once more. The animalistic fog that had been creeping into the edges of his vision vanished, but the mounting pressure between his legs persisted. Your windblown hair and dazzling smile made sure of that.

“Look at us,” you remarked proudly, holding up your fist to bump against his. “Sometimes I forget what a great team we make.”

Sylus shook his head and laughed, grinning smugly to himself as he took in your delectably unkempt appearance. “Then perhaps I should endeavor to remind you more often, sweetie.”

Your reply was interrupted by a bullet piercing through the back windshield, flying directly over your touching hands far too close for comfort. Sylus heard you gasp in alarm, but he only glared into the rearview mirror and whipped out his own sidearm. “Someone’s eager to die…”

It was your turn to gape at him as he threw open the driver’s side door and leaned out, firing off a few shots before his body transformed into a wraith-like mist that carried him on top of the assailant’s car. Sylus made short work of the enemy before returning to his place behind the wheel, complimenting your improvised driving as he picked up your forgotten milk tea from the cup holder.

Despite the utter chaos you found yourself fighting through, you smiled at him and wrapped your lips around the straw in a way that was way too sensual to be excused as an accident. Sylus narrowed his eyes as he watched your throat bob around a sip, and then you smacked your lips appreciatively. “Yummy. Has anyone ever told you that your driving stability needs some work?”

Grunting noncommittally, the silver haired man decided to focus his attention on the road ahead. If he didn’t, the discomfort between his legs would quickly teeter on the brink of becoming painful. “Any suggestions I don’t consider are filed under ‘never heard of it’. Besides, you managed well enough. You didn’t fall out of the car, did you?”

“Maybe because someone decided to hold me in place with his teeth.” Sylus pursed his lips guardedly, watching through the corner of his eye as you grazed your fingers over the spot he had nearly bitten down on. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.”

Desperate times, huh? That was a phrase for it. Sylus could only hope that his restraint lasted until the two of you saw your insane plan through to the end. Until then, he wasn’t particularly keen on losing control of himself and acting like a deranged lunatic.

Smothering his internal desires around you was difficult enough without the evidence of a powerful Aether Core intermingling with your natural scent.

—

By the time the car had come to a screeching halt within the epicenter of Charon, you had nearly finished your milk tea. Your contented sighs and lip smacking had done sorely little to quell the growing hunger in Sylus’ gut– his cravings for both the Spatium Core and you making his head feel heavy. It was a nuisance for him to feel so out of sorts. Ordinarily, he was the picture of confidence around you.

But that Aether Core you had absorbed was messing with his mind and his morals. The smell was driving him ballistic within the confines of the tiny Slyvernos. He yearned to taste it for himself, and part of him was all too willing to throw caution to the wind and indulge his craving here and now.

You hadn’t seemed to pick up on his rigidity, however, so Sylus prayed to the Gods that had forsaken him long ago to keep you oblivious to his inner turmoil. Either they had heard his pleas or you were actually just too comfortable to notice, because you kept your eyes trained out the window as you scanned your surroundings with your lips wrapped around that damn straw.

It was hard to tell given how trashed the entire area was, but your eyes landed on what could have once been a bakery. The windows were smashed– broken wood and bullet holes covering every inch of the scorched interior. Sylus had no idea what you were thinking, and the only sound that came from you was a loud, bubbling slurp as you polished off your drink.

“You didn’t actually go for a joy ride earlier, did you?” You muttered the question evenly, breaking the silence that filled the car. “I mean, it’s a total war zone out there. Where could you have gone?”

“I just grabbed a bite to eat,” he replied vaguely, but the teasing way he delivered the remark was telling enough. You turned to stare at him curiously, your jaw moving slowly as you chewed up a tapioca pearl, then narrowed your eyes.

You jerked your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the dilapidated bakery. “Where the hell did you manage to find a place still serving food in the middle of the Zoion Hunt? I’d be surprised if anything in Charon is left standing after this.”

The aroma of your newly absorbed Aether Core greeted his nostrils for the nth time today, and Sylus did his best to appear nonchalant in the face of the brutal torment. His crimson eyes fixed themselves on you pointedly as he explained, “I couldn’t get what I actually wanted, so I had to settle for the next best thing.”

He watched the cogs in your mind spin and click into place as you processed his flippant confession. You looked back outside at the wasteland surrounding the beat up vehicle, taking in the unnaturally quiet streets. There were no Hunt participants in this part of the district at the moment, nor were there any other threats looming around in the shadows. Sylus had made sure of that.

Aside from not wanting you to run into any unnecessary trouble earlier, he’d been in desperate need of staving off his hunger for you. His efforts weren’t doing him any good at present, though. If anything, it had only made things worse. The meager Wanderers he had dealt with were nowhere near as appetizing as you were.

“Ah, I was wondering why my job seemed so easy earlier…” Instead of disgust or fear appearing on your face, Sylus was pleasantly surprised when you quirked a brow at him playfully. “So, how were the Wanderers? Delicious? Finger-licking good?”

The question made him scowl. Thinking about the sour, earthy taste of the pitiful Protocores he had absorbed was hardly something he recalled with any fondness. Especially not when he was currently seated next to the most delectable soul to grace the planet. Sylus watched as you failed to fight your knowing grin, and the frown tugging at his lips deepened. “They were so unpalatable that it’s not even funny.”

“Aw,” you drawled mockingly, shaking your empty cup of milk tea in his face. “Poor little Sylus couldn’t get a tasty treat. I don’t know how I never realized it before, but you’re kind of a picky eater, aren’t you?”

“I have my preferences,” he conceded with a casual wave of his hand. Huffing out a laugh, you polished off the last few drops of your drink before sticking the empty container in the cup holder, then double checked your pistols with professional diligence. All the while, Sylus’ right eye flared to life– the Aether Core he possessed zeroing in on the power coursing through your veins.

The biggest, baddest Wanderer in existence could fall gift wrapped at his feet, and still Sylus knew that he only had his sights set on one thing. There was only one, singular entity in this entire cursed world that he hoped to sink his teeth into.

She just so happened to be sitting right beside him, none the wiser to his growing appetite for her.

—

It didn’t surprise you in the slightest that you were starting to remember everything. After all, it had been your great idea to head into Charon in search of answers. There was exposure therapy, and then there was imitating a traumatic moment from someone’s past and making them live through it a second time. Dimitri trapping you in the collision chamber hadn’t brought back your memories so much as it had smothered you with them.

Sylus knew it would take time for you to sift through it all, and he vowed to do everything within his power to offer clarity when it was needed. Now was one of those moments as he listened to you recount the hazy memory of the two of you fighting for your lives in the interstellar arena. It all seemed like a distant, fictional dream to you, but Sylus’ bitter expression intensifying as you spoke told you that what you had seen was true. What did he remember from your shared past? Would he tell you if you asked?

Now wasn’t the time, though. He looked upset in the wake of hearing about the two of you being made to fight to the death as children, so you wisely cut the discussion short by gingerly placing your hand against his cheek.

“We’re pretty special, huh?”

Entering his space so suddenly seemed to overwhelm Sylus’ senses. His head instinctively leaned into your touch in a bid to chase the feeling, his nostrils flaring briefly before his eyes darkened. It was a curious reaction, made even more so when his gaze fell to your throat.

“You are,” he murmured gruffly. The arm he had wrapped around your waist tightened a fraction, pulling you closer so that your chest was flush to his. It had never escaped your notice that ever since you’d met Sylus, you somehow fit him like a glove. The soft parts of you meshed perfectly with the harder parts of him. He was the missing piece of your soul that slotted into place with stunning ease– as if some inherent sliver of your consciousness knew you belonged with him.

You knew he would never make that choice for you, though. Sylus had always patiently waited for you to come to him on your terms, and even if he wanted more like you assumed he did, he would never force the issue. It was a heartwarming quality of his that just endeared you to him more.

“You’ve always been there.” Your wispy voice drew his attention away from your neck, and you felt his heart stumble through your touching chests when you swept your thumb affectionately over his cheekbone. “Back then before I came to the Research Center, and then afterwards when you helped me escape. You stayed here all this time because of me, didn’t you?”

“I see modesty is still a foreign concept to you,” he teased. But his husky tone betrayed just how true your accusation was.

“Modesty, manners, poise– I never have to worry about those things when I’m with you. You’re Sylus. When we’re together, I can just be myself.”

“So you’re implying that I condone naughty kittens who kick me under the table and steal my belongings?” Sylus dexterously reached up to the other hand you had braced against his shoulder, plucking the biometric key from the Research Center out of your loose grip and waggling it in your face for emphasis. “You’re awfully comfortable misbehaving around me. I don’t know if I should be proud or offended.”

You rolled your eyes before unconsciously glancing at his mouth, and Sylus’ small smirk evaporated like smoke. The look on his face was positively, utterly, undeniably hungry. Your half-lidded eyes and wine-flushed cheeks seemed to nullify his higher brain power, and when your lips parted around a soft exhale, Sylus swallowed thickly. The ravenous glint in his eyes reminded you of how he had looked in the car earlier after almost biting you.

You were grossly curious to discover what he was thinking. What did he want?

Sylus was an expert at goading people into sating their more selfish desires. But now, faced with the prospect of indulging his own? He seemed indecisive. It was almost like he was afraid to find out what came next for the two of you, and you already knew he wouldn’t dare to toe the line and run the risk of crossing your boundaries.

So, you decided to take the initiative.

It felt like time was moving in slow motion as you gingerly rested your forehead against his. You could see every streak of color in his irises and the subtle way his pupils dilated. You could see the rosy hue on his cheeks– left over from either the wine or put there because of you. Most prudent of all were the innermost thoughts you could practically see reflected in his eyes. While you didn’t have power like his that clued you in on a person’s desires, Sylus depicted his plainly on his face.

When your lips captured his, there was no resistance. Instantly you melted into him, your entire body going slack as relief and desire twined together in your very soul. You moaned into the kiss, your arms coiling around the back of his neck so you could get closer, and Sylus swallowed up the tiny sound greedily. His hands delved under your shirt, raking up the length of your spine as he eagerly drank in the feeling of your smooth skin beneath his palms, and when his nails scratched lightly at the areas beneath your shoulder blades, you hissed softly and arched into him.

Pulling back to pant against his lips, the expression on your face was one that sealed his fate. “Sylus…”

He was gone.

Sylus dove back in too fast for you to track, and your startled gasp was smothered by his tongue sweeping through your mouth. The taste of him– God– it was stronger than any aphrodisiac and more powerful than any weapon. It was intoxicating. The fervor with which he kissed you led you to believe that he couldn’t get enough, and you were inclined to agree. You wanted more, and you hoped against all odds that Sylus felt similarly.

His body moved of its own accord as he stood from his chair, leaving one arm wrapped around your waist while the other gripped the underside of your ass. Relieved that he was on the same page as you, you quickly hooked your ankles together around his narrow hips– squeezing him so tight that an animalistic sound reverberated from deep within his chest. He broke away from the kiss at the same time he started for the staircase, grinning sanctimoniously when he caught sight of the dazed expression you bore.

“I like that look on your face, kitten,” Sylus rumbled. The hand on your back slid up to your neck, pressing your head against his shoulder so your throat was within reach of his lips. He had been fixated on that spot from the moment you’d woken up earlier– constantly glancing at it while wetting his lips– and you felt arousal pooling in your gut when he finally made contact with it. He peppered light kisses against your thundering pulse, nipping softly at your skin as he began his ascent to the upstairs bedroom, and you mewled all the while. “What other faces can you show me?”

“All sorts,” your airy voice set the man’s blood alight in his veins, and Sylus tightened his hold on you as he moved faster up the steps. “What do you want, Sylus?”

“All of you.”

Your fingers dug into his back in response, and the next thing you knew, he was kicking open the door to his bedroom. The familiar sight of his private space created a new sense of urgency that drove him forward quicker– wisps of his Evol darting out behind him to shut the door so he wouldn’t have to waste time on such a trivial task. After all, he had more important matters to attend to.

The instant your back hit the mattress, Sylus’ lips were on yours again. His hands were demanding as he trailed them under your shirt, cupping your breasts and kneading the mounds with dizzying possession. He groaned when you released his neck to yank insistently at his belt, pulling his hips against yours with force that spoke volumes of your true strength.

Like him, you were powerful. You were sure of yourself and never hesitated to use the tools at your disposal to get what you wanted, and Sylus chuckled darkly as he took note of the needy glint in your eyes.

“You’re a force of nature,” he found himself saying once he had pulled away to haul your shirt over your head. Your hair fanned out around you like a halo when you settled back against the bed, and Sylus obeyed his body’s desire to briefly card through the soft strands. “You’re capable of so much more than you know, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next.”

Sylus snuck his Evol under your sides to release the hooks of your bra, taking care to remove that article of clothing with more finesse than he had with your top. The cool air of the bedroom had your nipples hardening before his very eyes, and as though he was spurred forward by an inaudible siren’s song, Sylus ducked down to latch his lips around one of the peaks. He rolled the bud between his teeth, laving his tongue over it a heartbeat later, and he was rewarded with the sound of your moans ricocheting off the walls of the room.

It felt sublime. His hands, his mouth, his strength– all of it being dedicated solely to you was amplifying the lust coursing through your veins.

“Y-You’ll be there to pull me back from the edge, right?” You raked your fingers through the shorter strands of hair at the nape of his neck, prompting him to fix those burning red eyes on you through his lashes. “Like before? I don’t want to lose control.”

Sylus smirked before burying his face between your breasts, licking and mouthing his way up your sternum on his way back to your lips. The kiss seared you from the inside out, and your wanton moan of pleasure made him shudder and shift his hips. Evidently he was as wound up as you were. “Always,” he murmured into your mouth. “I’ll help you get used to wielding devastating power. It’s something of a speciality of mine.”

Instead of voicing your appreciation, you opted to coil your mischievous fingers under the hem of his shirt, pulling the material up enough to expose the muscled expanse of his stomach. Ever the courteous gentleman, Sylus obliged your silent demand and sat back on his haunches to rip the attire off and discard it to the floor. His belt went next, and he got as far as unzipping his pants to offer himself some reprieve before pausing and narrowing his eyes at your skirt.

Surely he wasn’t going to strip you bare and leave himself clothed, right?

“Hey, that’s not fai– ah!” Your objection was silenced by Sylus hauling your skirt down your legs in one swift motion. The bottom half of your Hunter uniform was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder as though he found it somehow offensive, and then his long, skillful fingers were ghosting over the wet spot saturating your panties. Something akin to a growl sounded at the back of his throat when he got close enough to scent you, and it took every ounce of self-control you possessed not to visibly shudder.

He looked gluttonous. You found it hard to believe that your dampening sex could singlehandedly put a look like that on his face. Moreover, there was a manic glint in his eyes that had you regarding him with faint concern.

His control was still there, if only barely.

Sylus seemed to force himself to take his time lifting your underwear to the side, his hands shaking with restraint in a way that proved your assumption that he was losing his damn mind. A strand of moisture stretched between the fabric and your glistening folds, the palpable heat emanating from you prompting the Onychinus leader to inhale deeply. Whether it was to smell you again or to calm himself down, you didn’t know, but it didn’t seem to quell the fire burning in his eyes.

Sylus, on the other hand, wanted to cover the entirety of your cunt with his mouth and drink up every last drop of your arousal. He wanted to plunge his tongue so deep inside of you that his jaw would ache and the taste of you would be seared into his memory for the rest of his life. He wanted to hear you crying out his name over and over again like a prayer, your every thought revolving around him and him alone as he gave you over two decades worth of pent-up, carnal pleasure.

Sylus wanted everything you had to offer, and when he glanced up at you for your consent, he was met with a shaky dip of your chin.

“Y-You don’t have to,” you muttered shyly, feeling incredibly exposed on the receiving end of his bestial stare. Without your shirt in the way, you could see the flush staining your cheeks stretching down your neck to reach your chest, and the sight of you so thoroughly wound up almost made Sylus’ legs give out. God, he was actually losing it. You cleared your throat and shook the bewilderment from your mind as you nervously added, “I know some people don’t like doing… that.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, kitten, I’m not just anyone.” With newfound fervor, Sylus sensually slid your panties down your outstretched legs. He was quick to dispose of them over the side of the bed so his hands were free to stop you from clenching your knees together. That only served to make you whimper– a sound that seemed to please Sylus to no end. Gently, he pushed your legs apart and lowered himself onto his stomach, never once looking away from your lust-dark eyes as he made himself comfortable between your thighs. “I think I’ve made it clear that I have refined taste. If I don’t like something, I won’t eat it.”

Oh, God–

Without waiting for your reply, Sylus flattened his tongue against you to lick a broad, heavy stripe up your slit, collecting an obscene amount of your wetness on his tongue in one go. Your back arched off the bed when he lingered over your clit to apply cruel, addicting pressure there, and Sylus’ eyes fluttered shut at the thrill your potent taste imbued him with.

“S-Sylus,” you gasped breathlessly.

His hum of acknowledgement was the only sign he gave to confirm he’d heard you. He had only just started to sate his selfish cravings for you, and he had no plans to stop now. Brazenly and without restraint, Sylus covered the entirety of your cunt with his mouth, lapping and licking and sucking at whatever parts of you he came across. You were beyond soaked. The copious amounts of slick seeping from you created a symphony of sinful noises against his lips, and Sylus groaned unabashedly before hitching his knee up the bed to grind against the covers.

His self-control was slipping– escaping through his fingers like sand despite his best efforts– and the sight of him coming undone against you almost made you pass out. It was an unholy scene. Absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt the most immoral thing you had ever seen in your life, and you relished in it.

Your hands flew into his hair when he tongued over your clit again, your fingers clenching around fistfuls of the silvery locs so you could hold him in place. He almost laughed, and you were sure if he could speak, he would tell you that he had no intention of going anywhere. But even so, he let you force more of yourself into his mouth, his tongue delving inside your quivering walls at the same time his nose pressed against your clit.

“Oh, God, Sylus–” you cried out, unconsciously bucking your hips against his face. His crimson eyes cracked open to find your expression contorting into one of pure rapture, your bottom lip clenched bruisingly between your teeth. “Feels– feels so good.”

Sylus feasted upon you like a man starved. Your clit was trapped tight beneath his nose, the sensitive nub sliding and catching against the tip repetitively as he moved his jaw to dig deeper inside of you. If he were physically capable of reaching all the way to your heart, you knew he would. It was like he was trying to consume every inch of you– his groans of satisfaction deluding you into thinking that you tasted good. It was obvious he was deriving some kind of bizarre, personal pleasure from fusing his mouth to your cunt.

The intensity of his movements increased in the wake another throaty moan sounding from him, and before long, your own noises turned shakier and needier. Your wet, pulsing walls clenched hopelessly around his tongue, your climax looming before you temptingly, and Sylus’ fingers digging into your thighs told you that he was well aware of how close you were. Your pleasure was his pleasure, and he was all too eager to have you falling apart with his mouth sealed to your most intimate place.

His nails bit into your skin as he pressed more of himself against your cunt and began shifting his head from side to side. The action drew more moans and cries of his name from your lips, your legs quaking as the pressure mounting in your gut reached its peak, and Sylus let loose a shaky laugh. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

“Sylus, I– I–” you stammered brainlessly, his ministrations persisting despite your writhing. “I can’t–”

His voice was ragged– all guttural as he pulled away just enough to utter, “You will.”

Your grip on his hair tightened so aggressively that it had to sting. Your shapely thighs on either side of his head suddenly squeezed together and smothered him completely– trapping him so fiercely that if you had any ability to dwell on it, you would worry about suffocating him. Sylus hardly seemed to mind as he groaned wantonly, your raspy cries of his name prompting his gaze to land on you once again. Through the lustful fog clouding your mind, you could see his control over himself diminishing into the abyss.

Only once he felt your muscles relax did Sylus release your legs and sit up, watching unblinkingly as your chest rose and fell with panted breaths. He drank in the sight of you greedily, licking the remnants of your arousal from his lips as something dark and possessive overtook his handsome features. It wasn’t until you noticed his right eye beginning to glow that you realized just how frantic Sylus actually was.

That was when it dawned on you. The Spatium Core. Sylus had been plainly affected by it from the moment you’d let yourself into his house days earlier. Knocking back liquor, his ceaseless comments about food and eating.

The fact that he had bitten you in the car.

The addition of the new Aether Core in your body was driving him to devour you– possibly in more ways than one.

Before you could sit up and question him about your hypothesis, his Evol lashed out with wicked precision. You were still relatively boneless against the bed– your legs about as sturdy as a newborn fawns– so when the cold, silky tendrils of his power wrapped around your waist to flip you over, you were unable to stop it. Your startled yelp was cut short when your face connected with the mattress, the duvet cover muffling your voice. By the time you had pushed yourself onto your elbows, Sylus was already straddling your legs from behind and raking his nails up your bare back.

His touch was domineering. The pressure from his fingers pressing into your spine stilled your movements, and you blearily looked at him from over your shoulder. “Sylus, how badly is the Spatium Core affecting you?”

“Bad,” he growled, sounding so far removed from himself that it made your stomach lurch. “It’s intoxicating. You were already ravishing enough on your own, but that extra energy… you’re irresistible, kitten.”

Shit. “Sylus, you can’t eat me. You don’t have my permission.”

Well, he couldn’t eat your soul. Other parts of you, though… you wouldn’t mind if he ate those again.

Sylus inhaled sharply through his nose, the incessant touching against your back halting as he warred with his own mind for the right thing to say. You weren’t afraid of him per se, but you were worried that he was losing himself to his hunger. If it came down to it, you would beat the sense back into him. He would thank you for it later down the line, and knowing Sylus, he would probably enjoy it.

“I have no intention of eating you in that regard, sweetie,” Sylus purred, running his palms up the curve of your spine so he could wrap his large, burning hands around your shoulders. The way he dwarfed you so completely had you rethinking your assumption that you could beat much of anything into him. Something about him in this state seemed stronger– albeit in a rash, uncontrollable way.

It had no right to be so arousing. The poor man was clearly suffering under the effects of some second-hand high thanks to your absorption of a second Aether Core. This was a delicate situation– you needed to think with your head, not your loins.

With his hands possessively curled over your shoulders, Sylus leaned in so he could bury his nose directly against your throat, sucking in a deep breath that made him shudder against you. His pants were still on, but that didn’t stop you from feeling the way his cock twitched against your lower back. “What… what are you feeling, exactly?”

“Too much,” he murmured vaguely, his warm breath fanning across your clammy skin. “I just know I want more of you. Your taste, your touch– I want to know if I can feel your power the same way I can smell it.”

Sylus moved his hands then, one skirting around your front to grip your chin, and the other delving lower to wrap around one of your breasts. The precarious position he had you in left you entirely at his mercy. There was no way for you to move and nowhere for you to go. That fact was emphasized heavily when the imposing man angled your face towards him, kissing you from over your shoulder while the hand against your breast took to toying with your nipple. You couldn’t stop the shaky sigh you expelled from your lungs in response to his touch, selfishly wanting more despite knowing that Sylus wasn’t necessarily in his right mind.

His mouth moved against yours with bruising strength, wringing tiny, breathless little noises from you as he drank his fill once more. When he pulled away with a gentle nip against your bottom lip, you had to dredge up the dwindling remnants of your willpower to ask, “Are you in any pain?”

“No.” He moved back so he could bite softly at your shoulder, more of his weight settling against the backs of your thighs. “Just… restless.”

“Should we stop?” The last thing you wanted was for Sylus to do anything he would lament over. Whatever strange rut he had fallen into wouldn’t last forever, and if you could spare him the humiliation of waking up later full of regret, you would. As badly as you wanted to keep going with him, you wouldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to.

That was only if he was coherent enough to refuse, though. There was nothing you could do if his baser urges had nullified his higher thinking completely. You didn’t think you could stop him from taking what he wanted from you.

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to stop him.

In the wake of your memories returning to you, your affections for the crime lord had grown out of control. How you had spent so much time without him by your side, you didn’t know, nor did you want to revisit that way of living.

“Do you want to stop?” Sylus’ voice was garbled– as if just proposing the counter-offer was difficult for him. He meant it, though. You knew that if you told him yes, he would find a way to back off and sequester himself away in a dark room for however long it took for his blood to cool. Even in the midst of dealing with what you could tangibly discern as a painful hard-on, Sylus would hit the brakes and make himself scarce– if that was what you wanted.

But you didn’t want that. Not in the slightest.

It had the potential to turn disastrous, but you swallowed around the growing lump in your throat and whispered, “No. I want this with you, Sylus. But only if you’re comfortable with it.”

You heard and felt his airy laugh against your shoulder, his lips curling into a wicked grin before he moved to perch his chin in the crook of your neck. The hand he held your face with tightened immeasurably further, and then he was angling your head to the side so he could return to his earlier task of scenting your throat. Around a rumbling growl, Sylus murmured, “I’m more than comfortable with it, sweetie. But you should know that I won’t hold back. Not after I’ve waited this long to have you.”

“Good,” you sighed when you felt his tongue dart out to lave against your pulse. “I don’t want you to hold back. Give me everything, Sylus. I want you.”

His reaction to your verbal consent was a physical thing. Sylus groaned and rocked his hips down into your lower body, his fingers digging sharply into your jaw and breast for a split second before letting you go. He had to climb off of you to shed his pants and his briefs– at which point you shamelessly watched from over your shoulder as the long, hard, throbbing length of him was fully revealed. You were so turned on– so unbelievably aroused by everything he had done and said up until now– that just the mere sight of his oozing length had heat building in your core once more. The precum pearling at the head of his cock glinted against the dim overhead lighting, and you found yourself unconsciously licking your lips.

“Can… can I taste you?”

Sylus froze– his hand still outstretched over the side of the bed where he had dropped his clothes. His pupils dilated so severely that only a sliver of red was showing, and his momentary shock was quickly masked with a conniving smirk. “You can do whatever you want, kitten.”

The low, silky tone he spoke with only worsened the ache between your thighs, but you ignored it in favor of scrambling onto your hands and knees so you could crawl over to him. He met you halfway on the mattress and sat back on his haunches– not quite kneeling and not quite standing– but his taller frame still loomed over you. Without giving yourself time to second guess your impulsive decision, you gripped his cock in your smaller hand and swiped your thumb over the swollen head, smearing around the whitish liquid so abruptly that Sylus hissed through his teeth.

You chanced a wary glance up at him out of fear that you had done something wrong, but his flushed cheeks and narrowed eyes painted a different picture. “Don’t stop now, kitten. I’m fine.”

With your confidence steadily growing, you kept your eyes on his, opened your mouth, and blindly guided him home. Not looking at what you were doing resulted in the wet, leaking tip sliding against your bottom lip, but your tongue darted out to lick up the mess before curling around the violently red head of Sylus’ insane length.

It was a strange flavor, though not altogether unpleasant. Salty– maybe even a little tangy– but the almost sweet aftertaste that graced your tastebuds prompted you to seal your lips around him and suck in search of more.

Above you, Sylus groaned at the stimulation. His hands appeared against your scalp to card through the pieces of your hair that had fallen into your face, and he helpfully pulled them back before wrapping his fingers around the strands. It wasn’t an overbearing grip in the slightest, but it did give him the control he needed to gently push your head down a little farther. “That’s it– keep doing that, kitten. It feels incredible.”

Spurred on by his praise, you hummed and took to working your hands over the parts of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth. The more you rubbed and licked him, the more his precum spread across your tongue. You didn’t taste anything like what he’d described your flavor as, but the way he groaned and twitched in your mouth did imbue you with a unique kind of power.

He was putty in your hands– completely at your mercy. The noises escaping him coupled with the way he twitched every time you pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside of his shaft was addicting in its own right.

The realization made you grow bolder, and in a desperate attempt to get more of a rise out of him, you sank down deeper and stuffed your mouth with as much of his length as you physically could. His hold on your hair tightened to the point where it started to sting, but you ignored the wordless warning and kept descending until you felt the head of his cock bump against the back of your throat.

“Shit– don’t– don’t force yourself, sweetie–”

What had he said before? About suggestions not worth considering? That they were filed under the ‘never heard of it’ category?

It seemed fitting to borrow that philosophy now.

You had to squeeze your eyes shut to fend off the threat of tears as you swallowed around his tip. The urge to pull off was strong, but your desire to bring Sylus to his knees was stronger. You held out for a few seconds, repeating the motion over and over and over until he was choking out gasps of your name. His head fell back at the same time a wanton groan ripped from his chest, and when you elected to voice your amusement in the form of another hum, Sylus’ hips twitched forward.

“Damn– unless you want this to end with me jammed down your throat, you’ll quit while you’re ahead.”

The fact that his words hardly registered as a threat should have scared you. It should have made you shiver and look up at him with pleading eyes, because the thought of his girth stretching your esophagus open was daunting and liable to end in serious discomfort. But for some unfathomable reason, it only amplified the arousal curling in your gut. You wanted him to use you for his pleasure– to push you to the base of his cock with his fingers buried in your hair. The imagery was vivid in your mind, and when you peered up at Sylus through your lashes, he was already staring at you.

And he saw your unspoken desires plain as day.

“Very naughty, kitten. You’re full of surprises,” he purred around a half-smirk, looking equal parts stunned and excited by your innermost thoughts. Just when you assumed he would indulge your fantasy, he was pulling you off of his cock by your hair in one fell swoop, saliva and precum stretching between your lips and his now glistening shaft. “Another time, maybe. As enticing as your mouth is, my plans don’t include cutting the fun short buried in your throat.”

Your sudden intake of breath was shaky and hoarse, and you had barely managed to catch your breath before Sylus was kissing you again. The force of his lips against yours aided him in pushing you down against the bed, one of his arms coiling around your waist to keep the movement controlled and steady. The moment your back was flush with the covers, Sylus pulled back to take in the full breadth of your appearance, his chest rising and falling rapidly as carnal hunger flickered across his face.

You had never been looked at like that before– like you were the most crucial thing Sylus had ever set eyes on. The sheer longing that rolled off of him in waves was making you dizzy, and instead of shielding yourself from his piercing gaze like modesty demanded, you let your hands fall above your head in an act of complete submission. “How do you want me?”

The way he visibly shuddered seemed to shake the very walls of the bedroom. His cock– arched, solid, and leaking all over itself– twitched in response to your brazen move. Sylus shot forward faster than you could track, caging you between his sculpted arms at the same time he used his knees to knock your legs apart. He wedged them under your ass, the position pushing your lower half off of the mattress as your legs naturally hitched over his thighs, and the angle allowed for the long, thick length of him to settle directly against your wet, messy folds.

“Just like this,” he growled huskily. “I want your eyes on me at all times. Think you can manage that, kitten?”

God. You would certainly try.

Sylus shifted his hips back so the red, swollen tip of his cock was pressed against your hole, and he stayed there with infuriating stillness long enough that you started to whimper. It was torture to feel him looming at your entrance– the pressure placed there acting as a promise and a threat– but you weren’t about to back out now. Not after the man above you had lit such a tumultuous fire in your veins.

Just before you had the chance to urge him forward out loud, Sylus was moving. He planted one hand on your hip while the other gripped your thigh, and then slowly– carefully– he was feeding his length into you. The initial stretch trapped your breath in your lungs, the mind-boggling size of him making you bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a choked groan, and Sylus’ eyes never wavered away from where you swallowed him up. It seemed to physically pain him to move so cautiously, but his hunger for you couldn’t overshadow his awareness of how tight you were, so he mercifully took his time.

Once he had fully bottomed out in your pulsing core, his hands tightened at the same time he growled. “Fuck, sweetie, you feel…”

“S’big,” you hissed, eyes narrowing at the ceiling before you remembered Sylus’ instructions. You looked back at him, nearly winded when you saw how flushed his cheeks were and how dramatically his chest heaved with the deep breaths he sucked down. “Y-You can move. Just… just be nice to me.”

Sylus needed no further encouragement. He leaned forward, keeping his one hand on your hip while the other began trailing up your torso. The calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple, the stimulation making you gasp softly, and the man took that as his cue to begin moving. It was all slow, measured grinding at first– the thickness of his cock stretching you out more and more while his pelvis rubbed gently against your clit. It was perfect. It was exactly the sort of thing to help you acclimate further, and your hand blindly came to rest over the one Sylus had splayed over your breast.

“Show me how you like having them touched, kitten,” Sylus murmured huskily. He lifted his appendage from beneath yours to switch their positions, pressing your own palm to your chest to guide you. “How do you play with them when you’re alone? What do you like?”

Your vision was hazy as you blinked up at him, blood rushing into your cheeks at the sinful line of questioning. You were well past the point of being embarrassed, though. Slowly, as if your arms were weighed down by shackles, you answered him by ghosting your hand over your own flesh. Pinching your nipple, you rolled it lightly between your index finger and thumb, pulling at it delicately every so often until it hardened into a stiff bud. Every touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body that made you mewl, and it wasn’t until Sylus began withdrawing his hips slightly that you realized you weren’t nearly as tight around him anymore.

“That’s it,” he cooed in that deep, velvety voice of his. “Keep purring for me, kitten. You’re doing great.”

Sylus inched his cock back into you, the slide made all too easy thanks to the wetness seeping from your center. You continued to fondle your breast all the while, eventually deciding to give your other one the same treatment, and the sight of you shamelessly playing with yourself pulled a gravely moan from the crime lord.

It also prompted him to jerk his hips forward harder, punching the air from your lungs and causing your spine to arch off the bed. “Sylu– ah!”

The abrupt pressure against your insides was laced with toe-curling pleasure. Sylus had struck something perfectly when he’d moved– something that made your blood boil and caused your vision to flash white. He knew it, too. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and after waiting a moment to ensure that you weren’t in any pain, he did it again.

Your hands flew away from your breasts to fist into the sheets, a hot spike of arousal shooting through your body as a gaudy moan ripped from your throat. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears couldn’t overshadow Sylus’ self-satisfied chuckle, and he leaned forward more until he was draped over you completely. The closer proximity forced your legs apart on either side of his waist, spreading you open so obscenely that if he chose to look down, he would see every inch of your wet, pulsing cunt with utmost clarity.

Red eyes bored down on you– Sylus’ handsome face only a few inches away from yours– and he flashed you a smirk that reminded you far too much of the one he had given you all those months ago when you’d snuck into his room.

It was conniving. Predatory.

Without breaking eye contact, he pulled his hips back before ramming them against your ass, his cock hitting you so deep and so precisely that you wailed his name. He struck that spongy spot with such accuracy and force that your mouth unconsciously fell open and stayed open, a litany of brainless noises spilling from your lips.

“I don’t know what’s better,” he grunted around another maddening plunge of his cock. “The way you taste, the way you feel, or the way you sound. You’re a vision, kitten– I can’t get enough of it.”

Unable to formulate a response, you were left entirely at Sylus’ mercy when he gripped your chin and angled your head to the side, mouthing hotly against your throat as he set a demanding pace. The power he exerted with each jerk of his hips would have driven you up the mattress if his weight wasn’t pinning you in place. All of it left you reeling– every last one of your senses overcome with Sylus.

The feeling of him made your skin blister with heat. The spicy, smokey scent of him made your mind go numb. The only part of him you could see at present was his broad, muscled shoulder flexing as his elbow dug into the bed to lend more vigor to his thrusts. The sounds he was making against your neck– fuck– they were guttural, feral, and sacrilegious. He was wholly and completely lost to the ecstasy your body granted him, and you knew then and there that you would forever be addicted to it.

A sudden, stinging pressure broke through the fog clouding your mind when he bit down on the curve of your shoulder. It was hard enough that you moaned– the sound equal parts pained and aroused– and Sylus abandoned his hold on your chin to slap around the bed blindly until he found your hand. Lacing his fingers with yours, he pinned the appendage beside your head, digging his nails into the back of your hand as a shudder rolled over him.

It was too much. You’d never been so turned on in your entire life.

“S-Sylus– Sylus, I’m–”

His tongue darted out to lave over the bite repetitively, leaving you to wonder if he’d actually broken the skin in his determined quest to taste the Spatium Core’s energy thrumming through your veins. He pulled back only slightly, just enough to mutter into the crook of your neck, “So good… you’re so good, kitten. Don’t hold back– use me.”

The tension mounting in your gut reached new heights in response to his demand. You were so close to the edge that you couldn’t think about anything else. All you cared to focus on was the way Sylus’ cock hammered into your sweet spot, the way he bit fervently at your flesh, the way his strong, powerful body moved over yours. It was a bestial display that would come back to haunt your dreams every night until you ceased to exist. Some primitive desire to merge your being with his came over you then, and you found yourself rolling your limp head sideways so you could seek out your target.

Sylus was too busy feasting on you to take notice, but when you leaned up to sink your teeth into the flushed patch of skin between his neck and shoulder, he bellowed– so loud and so fiercely that the coil in the pit of your stomach became painfully taut.

Every last one of his muscles tensed for a heartbeat. Then, with renewed stamina, he increased his pace impossibly further. He pounded into you with alarming speed, causing you to bite down on him harder as airy moans tumbled from your abused throat. You had to be delusional, because it felt like his cock had gotten bigger, the thickness of it threatening to split you open as he rutted frantically against you.

Unable to hold on any longer, your teeth fell away from his neck. “Sylus– ah!” Your voice tapered off into a breathless wheeze when he wound his free arm under your back, crushing you to his chest with proprietorial strength that kept you locked in place beneath him. You couldn’t move at all– could barely breath through the overwhelming tension that festered and grew in your lower gut. You were close, and you wanted to dive headfirst over the edge like your life depended on it.

“Please,” you croaked around hiccuping sobs. “Please, Sylus, please, please–”

He growled, then squeezed you to him so tightly that you could practically feel the outline of his cock spearing into you. Sylus gave you everything he had with unrelenting efficiency, crushing your hand against the bed as he all but bent you in half in his apparent pursuit to fuck the life out of you. You tried to rut back into his thrusts as your climax started to creep in, but you only succeeded in writhing against his chest, his hold on you so absolute that attempting to move was pointless.

It didn’t matter. As he pistoned his cock into you with speed that bordered on inhuman, you reached that blissful, alluring peak. You screamed Sylus’ name as pure rapture overtook your body, your cunt tightening around his length like a vice and forcing his thrusts to turn shallow as you sucked him in harshly.

“Fuck–” Sylus’ shaky exhale fanned across the column of your throat, and he pulled back to watch as you came undone against him, never once letting up the intensity of his movements. His positively luminescent red eyes scorched you all the way down to your very soul, and upon glimpsing your blissfully fucked-out face, he groaned, kissed you, and let himself follow you over the edge as he burrowed deep.

Your keening mewls were swallowed up by his mouth as he ground into you, pumping every last drop of his spend into your fluttering walls. It was a surreal feeling; hot and wet, accompanied by the squelching of moist skin rubbing against moist skin. You couldn’t help but sigh contentedly as you melted into a puddle of boneless limbs against the mattress, and after shakily grinding against you a few more times, Sylus let his full weight settle over you.

You gave him a few seconds to catch his breath, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling from over his shoulder. After a while though, you wiggled fruitlessly. Not only was he ridiculously tall, but he was heavier than he looked. “Sylus, I can’t breathe.”

“Five minutes,” he murmured against your neck, then nestled his head deeper into your marred skin.

“You’ll crush me to death in five minutes,” you shoved at his shoulder as you groused. Unsurprisingly, you failed to move him, and he stubbornly stayed put. “You’re worse than a toddler, I swear…”

Adding further credibility to the remark, Sylus snaked his arms under the small of your back, hugging you closer to him as he shamelessly burrowed his face harder into the crevice of your neck. It was as if he was trying to fuse his body together with yours– he was never going to let you go at this rate. Rolling your eyes, you relented to his clingy behavior and wrapped your own arms around his torso. His back was slick with sweat, and as you took to lightly tracing shapes against his spine with your nails, you noticed that he was trembling slightly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Sylus hummed thoughtfully, brushing his lips against the tender spot beside your throat he had sunk his teeth into previously. “More than alright… but I will admit, I don’t think one taste was nearly enough to satisfy me. I could stand to whet my appetite with you again, and again, and again…”

You felt his tongue dart out to lave against your skin, and despite being physically and mentally exhausted after the events of the last few days, when arousal began to fester in your gut once more, you couldn’t help but welcome it. “Will there be anything left of me by the time you’re ‘full’?”

“Of course. You should know by now that I’m remarkably skilled at making good things last, kitten.” Sylus drew back to gaze down at you, the playful glint in his eyes speaking volumes of his intentions.

He wasn’t done with you– not by a longshot. But after a lifetime of waiting to find yourself back in his arms, you had no intention of denying yourself what you truly desired.

#love and deepspace #sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fanfiction #sylus fanfic #sylus fanfiction #sylus smut #love and deepspace smut #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x female!reader #my writing #this is a long one I didn't realize how out of control it got until I was proofreading it earlier OOPSIES

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