#when you take on a pet you’re supposed to care for it !!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 3 months

Text

Golden Boy - G.S.

Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.

The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him.

Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat.

“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.

Seconds away from a bloodbath.

You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-

Snip!

You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

It’s hard not to remember.

“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”

With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care.

Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”

So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did.

It’s so unfair.

Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago.

Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.

You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”

“I did.”

Like it was all he wanted to see.

“You never loved me.”

“I do.”

Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”

Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.

“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”

Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple.

In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to.

“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”

You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away.

“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”

And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you.

Saw - only from a distance - those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.

Always hidden.

Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful.

But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?

You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”

“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”

Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was.

Perfect.

Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips.

You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”

“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else.

A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”

The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”

Again. And again and again- like he was addicted.

He’d always been, with you, anyway.

You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before.

“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”

A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster.

And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”

You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.”

And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt.

“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”

And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.

“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”

Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”

“B-but-”

It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss.

He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”

But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely.

And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”

RIP!

With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you.

“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”

“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”

He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-

“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”

Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection.

“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length.

Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”

And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene.

Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck.

The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out.

Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”

“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”

His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.

They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine.

Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring.

“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”

And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back.

Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru.

“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds.

And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-

“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?”

That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him.

“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”

You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours.

“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”

You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-

Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.”

Fuck. Killing him?

You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive.

Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever.

To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?”

You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”

“No, that’s not what you call me.”

And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle.

“Sugu!”

A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”

Over and over.

You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.

Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.

“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”

“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”

Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.

And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure.

Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.

“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”

And something about that makes him remember.

Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”

His golden girl.

Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.

“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”

Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots.

And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”

“Mhm?”

You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”

“-s’where I belong.”

Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”

Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach.

Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”

Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now.

“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”

Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape.

Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”

And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure.

Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?

But no.

Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.

And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”

The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.

Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”

And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind.

It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock.

And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive.

Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth.

Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly.

His heaven.

And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.

But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”

A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo x reader #tonywrites

8K notes · View notes

saetoru · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six.

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four.

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.

scarily handsome, in fact.

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

#teepods.writings #fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

30K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 5 months

Note

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding.

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel.

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.”

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.”

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy.

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment.

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass.

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

5K notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 6 months

Text

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, implied non/con, mentions of knots.

Puppy!Yuuta, who catches your eye the second you step into the shelter, despite the fact that he’s not at all what you were looking for. You need a service animal, and as cruel as it feels to say, hybrids of undeterminable origins with less-than-stellar past homes aren’t known to be very consistent, let alone trainable when it comes to such a high-stakes job. You were supposed to meet a pure-bred, highly recommended husky hybrid whose previous owner was no longer able to take care of him, but it was over for you as soon as you saw those big, dark, watery eyes – nearly hidden entirely by overgrown hair and jet-black ears that seemed to droop even lower whenever you threatened to look away from him. You’re already a lost cause by the time you ask a shelter employee for his name, and the paperwork’s signed within the hour. He leaves with you the same day, eyes on the ground and tail wagging a mile a minute.

Puppy!Yuuta, who was always meant to be someone's spoiled pet. He's shy, at first, scared to talk too loudly or cling too tightly or do anything that'll get him sent back to the shelter (no matter how clear you make it that that's a non-option), but it only takes him a few days to warm up to you, a couple weeks to come out of his shell, just under a month to start sleeping in your bed and trailing you around your apartment. He almost trips over himself when you ask if he'd like to wear a collar, and soon enough, he's more akin to a second-shadow than a dog. He does have some aggression issues, particularly when it comes to human men, but he's an angel with other hybrids, and when he bows his head and pouts, you really can't help but forgive him. With a life like the one he must've had, you can't really blame him for being so quick to bear his teeth.

Puppy!Yuuta, who's more than ecstatic when you mention still needing a service animal. He might not be qualified on paper, sure, but he's already constantly at your side, constantly worrying about you - it'd just feel wrong to go out and get another hybrid for a job Yuuta is more than capable of. He says he likes that idea of being able to take care of you, too - like you take care of him. You want to ask him not to be so sappy, to think of a slightly less sentimental way to say it, but when he's so happy and so, so proud of himself, it's hard to be even that strict.

Puppy!Yuuta, who cums untouched the first time you comb your fingers through his hair. You don't seem to notice, and he does his best to hide his face in your lap, to bite back the little, pathetic whimpers that crawl up his throat whenever you scratch at the base of his ears. He doesn't want to scare you, to be so needy so suddenly when you've been so kind.

Puppy!Yuuta, whose one and only flaw is that he can't seem to stop riffling through your dirty laundry. He can't be left alone for more than an hour without stealing one of your oldest, most threadbare shirts or worse, claiming a pair of your underwear as his newest chew-toy. You really should chastise him for it, but it's such an awkward thing to talk about, and he has such a sweet face - it's hard to believe he could ever do anything deliberately wrong. You've resigned yourself to just trying to limit the damage and salvage the less damaged items, even if those mysterious stains are a little hard to get out.

Puppy!Yuuta, who wishes he didn't have such a big, bulky knot. It's too thick and too heavy and seems to swell up whenever he gets even a little hard. If he didn't have a knot, he'd be able to actually thrust into you, rather than just fucking his fist over your sleeping body and imagining how tight you'd be, how pretty you'd look, how nice it would be to make you feel as warm and as soft as he feels because of you. He does what he can with his tongue, but you don't seem to like waking up with his saliva soaking everything between your thighs, and he always gets too excited when he tastes you. If he has to rut against your thigh that desperately again, he's afraid you might wake up and scold him.

Puppy!Yuuta, who can't wait until he works up the courage to mate with you properly. He knows it's still too soon, that it'd scare you to do it so abruptly, that he doesn't deserve it yet, but soon, he'll be able to to step up and take care of you as something more than just a pet. He's not there right now, but one day, he just knows he'll be the perfect mate for you <3

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere yuta #yandere yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yandere okkotsu yuuta #yandere okkotsu yuta

5K notes · View notes

sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months

Text

Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this – cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven, creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

5K notes · View notes

bucksangel · 2 months

Text

run little bunny

pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 8.6k

summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!

tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist

Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.

And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.

Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”

He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.

Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.

James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.

Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?

You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.

The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.

“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.

You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.

But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.

You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”

You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.

“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”

You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.

Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.

“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.

“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.

The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.

Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.

But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.

The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.

“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him.

“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”

Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?”

“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.

Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.

“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”

You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up.

Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders.

“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.

“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.

“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”

“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.

“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.

It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.

But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.

You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.

You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.

Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.

You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if –

Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.

“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.

“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”

“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.

“What can I do to help?”

What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.

“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”

“Bunny.”

Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.

“Sorry, James.”

“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”

You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.

“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.

“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.

“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?

“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.

“O-Okay, I will.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.

During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.

Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”

With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.

James.

He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.

“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”

With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.

“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.

“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.

“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.

Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.

“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.

“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.

It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.

“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.

The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.

“Is this okay, bunny?”

“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”

James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”

You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.

“Come, bunny.”

With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.

“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.

What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.

“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.

James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.

The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.

“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”

You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.

“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.

“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.

“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.

And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.

For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.

Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.

“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.

“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.

“Ye-Yes.”

“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Ja–”

“Bunny.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.

“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”

“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.

You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.

“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.

This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.

“Um, where are we going?”

“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.

“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.

“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.

It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.

James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.

“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.

“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.

God, you need to get it together.

You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”

“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Bunny—“

His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.

A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.

“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”

James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”

Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?

“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”

“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?

“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”

As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.

“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”

This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”

And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.

“Yes, anything!”

James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.

“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.

He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.

His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.

“Really?”

“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.

“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.

“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.

“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”

It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.

“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.

“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.

“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.

Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.

You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.

“Gonna take these off too.”

Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.

“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.

“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.

“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.

“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.

With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.

He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.

“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.

He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.

“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.

“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.

“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”

James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.

“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing.

“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”

You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.

The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.

“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.

And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.

“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.

“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”

You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.

“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”

When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.

When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.

And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics

#let me know what yall think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #james barnes #james barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #dark!bucky #james barns #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #my writing #my stuff

2K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 3 months

Text

truth serum

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.

tw/cw. Seungcheol gets truth-serumed and a little beat up, unprotected sex, dirty talk, dominant Seungcheol, power dynamics, praise, one hint of degradation that’s quickly squashed, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral, foreplay in the kitchen, bdsm subthemes, spanking as a punishment, pain kink, multiple reader orgasms, creampie/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) angel eyes.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.6k

🍭 aus. Secret agent au, handler reader, coworker au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you for being patient with me this month on my svt posting for June! My birthday is on the 25th and your smiley has been busy- so grateful I could get this out, even without a teaser post :) I don't know anything about actual secret agents, but this was a fun fanfic idea I had and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did :)

“I’m just going to go talk to her.”

You hate how nonchalant Seungcheol sounds, hate how easily he can be swayed by pretty women, even while out on jobs. It’s your responsibility to keep him in check, the little angel on his shoulder, and in his ear. “Don’t do it,” you warn him.

“Her husband’s the target, from what I’ve seen, she’s harmless,” the agent counters.

“How easily swayed you are by pretty women, and need I remind you this isn’t the first time you’ve let a person of interest’s wife become your focus.”

“Careful, Honey, for a moment there it sounded like you were jealous.”

You’re watching Seungcheol through the casino’s live footage, a stream you’d easily hacked for the operation at hand. He’s leaning against the bar, all suave in dress pants and a white button-up that he’s left open just enough to show his prominent chest-

“That’s your third drink,” you note, changing the topic, “don’t let it cloud your judgment, Angel Eyes.”

“We both know I can hold my liquor,” Seungcheol insists, raising his glass and sending a wink toward the camera before he downs the Old Fashioned. “I’m just going to go talk to her, she could give good intel.”

You let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, being Seungcheol’s handler can be a pain in the ass. Does he ever listen to you? Not usually. Does he get the job done, though? Most of the time.

“Trust me,” Seungcheol says, voice lowering. “I’m not going to do what you think I’m going to do.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair while you scan the screens in front of you. “Seduce her James Bond style and compromise this entire thing?”

“Maybe only half of that.”

God, he’s such a womanizer, but with a face like his, and the perks that come with his job, he can afford to be.

“If this goes sideways, don’t expect me to bail you out of it.” you warn him.

“Honey, bailing me out is your job.”

You hate it when Seungcheol goes out of your visuals, and entering a hotel room with a target’s wife was not on the itinerary tonight. For the first ten minutes, you’d sat anxiously, listening in on his smooth-talking, when the woman had suggested they take things to the bedroom, part of you had wondered if you should call this whole thing off and let Seungcheol do what he always does: fuck the hot wife and sort things out later.

But when you hear a male voice, and a startled, “Who is this?” from Seungcheol, you’re glad you’d stayed anxiously glued to your computer.

A faint, “Friend of my husband,” said in a nonchalant female tone, sets you off immediately, and you’re grabbing your phone to get backup support before you can even think.

You try to take deep breaths while you listen to what sounds like a fight taking place on Seungcheol’s end, and suddenly, the wire goes dead. Now, there are no sounds, only the racing of your own heart and the blood rushing through you.

“What’s going on?” Your supervisor's voice makes you jump, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing there with Hansol, another handler.

“Cheol made a move on his target’s wife, went back to her room, but the wife brought friends. The wire is dead.”

“Fuck,” Jeonghan groans, “This is the third time this has happened to him.”

“I tried reminding him of that,” you say, your voice raising with anxiety.

Hansol offers you a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. He takes care of an agent named Seungkwan, and while Seungkwan gets into his own messes, he’s not the type to go after married women in the middle of a job.

Jeonghan’s leaning over your computer now, and he brings up the map tracker you have on Seungcheol. “I’m sending this location to another agent we have in the area,” he tells you, quickly taking the reigns of the fuck up that’s just happened.

“It’s Wonwoo, isn’t it?” you sigh. “It’s always Wonwoo cleaning up Seungcheol’s messes.”

“Yes, it’s Wonwoo,” Jeonghan admits. “We made sure he’d be in the wings tonight in case something like this happened.”

“God, this isn’t good-” you groan.

“No,” Jeonghan responds, “It’s not. After tonight I’ll have to have a serious talk with Seungcheol, and a serious talk with you about reassignment if we decide Seungcheol is a liability.”

Your heart lurches in your chest.

When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.

After a harrowing two hours, you find yourself in the med section of the agency compound. Wonwoo is stationed outside of Seungcheol’s room, and he stands straighter as you approach. “Hey, Honey,” he says, using your codename even though there’s really no reason for it right now.

“Wonwoo- how is he?” You anxiously look toward the door Wonwoo is guarding with his body.

Although you’d been connected to the whole ‘rescue Seungcheol operation,’ you’re still buzzing with anxiety. It’s unexplainable, and definitely bordering on unacceptable given the line of work you’re in, but damn it, you can’t help but care for the man you handle every day.

“Jeonghan’s with him right now,” Wonwoo responds smoothly.

Your heart thunders even louder in your ribcage. Jeonghan had mentioned Seungcheol being a liability- is he getting fired right now?

Part of you aches to be with him, to defend his stupid behaviour- but you know it’s not your place, besides, what would you even say? You’d told Seungcheol not to go after the target’s wife, and he’d done it anyway, which shows a lack of regard for handler instructions.

Seungcheol has become a liability, and you hate that things have come to this.

“What do you think is going to happen?” you ask.

Wonwoo shrugs. “That’s above my paygrade.”

He’s awfully stoic, even for a spy, and while it can be intriguing at times, right now, his deflections only frustrate you more.

You let out a sigh. “What if I asked you to guess what’s going to happen?”

Wonwoo looks at you for a moment. “I’d guess Seungcheol will be put on a break.”

“A break,” you repeat. “Like… a permanent one?”

The spy can only shrug again, a nonchalant motion that’s way too disinterested for your liking.

Jeonghan’s been trying to talk you into working as Wonwoo’s handler for a while now, and although you know Wonwoo would be much less of a hassle than Seungcheol, you can’t bare to tear yourself away from the spy whose messes you’ve been helping clean up for over a year.

Despite Seungcheol’s massive ego, and his magnetic attraction toward trouble, there’s something about him that makes you want to care for him. Sure, he never listens, especially when you give him advice about women, but Seungcheol has a certain something about him- something that you won’t give up easily.

Before you can talk further with Wonwoo, the med room door opens and Jeonghan steps out. He lets out a deep sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hold your breath, waiting for your boss to give you instructions.

“This is a shit show,” Jeonghan says finally.

Neither you nor Wonwoo verbally agree with him, but brief eyecontact between the two of you makes it known what you’re both thinking.

Jeonghan addresses you next. “I’m guessing you want to go in there and talk to him.”

You can only nod.

“Look, it might not be the best idea, but fuck it.” Jeonghan uncrosses his arms, looking at you with a steady expression. “They gave Seungcheol some kind of truth serum. I don’t know how long it will be in effect, but I do know he’s vulnerable right now. I probably shouldn’t let you in there- but… I’m just going to walk down the hall to get a coffee, and if you happen to slip through the door then so be it. I didn’t see anything, and since Wonwoo is coming with me, he didn’t either.”

You stare in shock for a moment, unsure what to say. There’s nothing to be said, and when Jeonghan dispurses, Wonwoo is quick to follow.

You turn to the door, and after a deep breath, you slip inside the med room.

Seungcheol is lying in a hospital bed. His lip is battered and there’s a blossoming purple bruise around his left brow, but other than that, he looks remarkably well.

“Honey?” He sits up when you enter, eyes widening in shock.

“Cheol-” Your voice cracks as you take the seat next to the bed, and while part of you wants to reach for his hand, you hold yourself back.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, and those are two words you’ve never heard from him before. “You were right… about the wife.”

“That’s not important right now,” you sigh.

“It is. You’re my handler, and I didn’t listen to you, and that was wrong. If I had listened, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.”

You study him. You know he’s vulnerable, Jeonghan said as much, and with a truth serum impeding his ability to lie or evade questions, you want to be careful- but you also want answers, answers that you can only truly get right now.

“Why’d you do it?” you ask finally. “This time, and all the other times. You always go after the women, and I thought it was because you found it easy- seduction is what you’re good at, but- I don’t understand how you don’t see how dangerous it is.”

“Honey-”

“They’re thinking about reassigning me to Wonwoo, and before that happens, I just need to know why, Cheol. When you have the potential to be the best agent in this company, why are you always so ready to jump ship and fuck any rich married woman even though you know it will fuck everything up?”

“They can’t reassign you to Wonwoo!” Seungcheol sits up abruptly, and the heart rate monitor next to him beeps a sign of warning at his increasing pulse.

“They can do whatever they want, you should be worried about your own job. You don’t even listen to me as your handler half the time, maybe you should be with someone you actually respect.”

“I respect you,” Seungcheol blurts out.

“It doesn’t feel like you do.”

“I do,” he insists. “I-” Seungcheol’s voice cracks. “I get with women to distract myself.”

“Distractions in this line of work can be fatal.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snaps, making you go silent. “Maybe I have a death wish.”

“Cheol-”

“Stop calling me Cheol.”

“Stop calling me Honey.”

“No.”

You glare at him, anger bubbling and inspiring you to dive deeper into your questioning, despite the fact that you know this isn’t a morally good idea. “Why do you need a distraction?”

“Because you’re a distraction. Your voice in my ear- it distracts me.”

“Maybe reassignment is a good idea.”

“You’re not being reassigned.” Seungcheol’s voice is practically a growl, and you’ve never seen this side of him.

“Why not?”

His expression breaks. “Because I need you.”

“You clearly don’t.”

“I do,” he insists. “I know I’m not good at showing it- but I do, I need you.”

“Cheol-”

“Honey.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because-” Seungcheol lets out a sigh, and he punches at the hospital bed. “Look, I’m scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.”

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. You’re staring at this lady killer agent, the sexiest man you’ve ever met, and you can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “But- all the women you go after-”

“Distractions from you, from the voice in my head.” Seungcheol swallows thickly. “That night in Paris…”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you hold your breath for the next words about to leave him.

“That night- fuck, I’ve never met someone like you before. I’ve never felt-” he bites at his lip, and you wince, knowing it must hurt to put pressure on the wound there. “I got with those other women to try to convince myself that I didn’t need you. I didn’t need your guidance, I didn’t need your care, I didn’t need you- but… I do need you.” Seungcheol meets your gaze. “I’ve needed you more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and it scares me.”

Aside from the heart rate monitor beeping through the room, you swear you could hear a pin drop as you stare at Seungcheol, trying to register everything he’s just said.

“I-”

“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” Seungcheol says. “How do you feel about me?”

“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I never understood why I stayed working with you after everything, but… maybe I understand now. Maybe I need you too.”

“Maybe?” Seungcheol flashes you a sexy smirk, and it makes you look away, hating how he makes you feel, hating how inappropriate this whole thing is.

“I’m definitely going to have to be reassigned now,” you tell him.

“What? Why?”

“You know why. This,” you point between the two of you, “this has been the liability the whole time. We’re the liability, Cheol.”

He sits and thinks about it for a moment. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You let out a laugh.

“Just… don’t work with Wonwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You can’t help but laugh at the request.

“Because I think he’s into you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” you tease, standing up so you can sit on the bed, wanting to be closer to Seungcheol. “Besides,” you pinch at his chin, inspecting the wounds on his face, “Wonwoo might actually listen to me.”

“Honey,” Seungcheol slaps your hand away, instead grabbing at the back of your neck to bring your lips dangerously close to his, “don’t test me right now.”

“Or what?”

He lets out a shaky breath, his gaze dipping down to your lips. “Jeonghan’s putting me on a two-week mental health break or some shit, this isn’t even a question of ‘or what’ anymore. While I’m on leave, I’m going to fuck you stupid. I’m going to make it so you can’t even leave the fucking bed. I’m going to show you that I’m not the kind of man who receives instructions, I give them. Think you can handle it?”

God, your core is throbbing from his words alone, and you can’t muster up any for yourself. You can only nod, staring at the beautiful, bruised, stubborn man in front of you.

“You should get out of here before I bend you over this fucking bed and get us both fired.” Seungcheol releases you, leaning back to put distance between your lips.

“Do you think you’ll be released tonight?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Are you that eager to see what I’m made of, honey?” Seungcheol lets out a laugh.

“Maybe.”

“Yes, I think I’ll be out of here soon, after this stupid serum wears off. You know, this whole interrogating me while I’m vulnerable thing isn’t going to go unpunished.”

“I hope you do your worst,” you challenge him.

The agent scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”

“Hypocrite,” you grin, standing and heading to the door. “Call me when you’re out, then you can take me home.”

You’re waiting by Seungcheol’s car in the parking garage when he comes out of the elevator. He’s dressed in black dress pants and the same white button-up he’d been wearing hours earlier. The collar is speckled with blood, the buttons undone to reveal his broad chest- his suit jacket is held in a fist, and he’s never looked sexier.

He doesn’t say anything as he approaches, closing the distance between the two of you. His hand finds your cheek, and his eyes stare into your own, your lips only inches apart. Then, he’s kissing you for the first time, a desperate, needy kiss that sets your entire body on fire.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest flush to his own. Your mouth opens instinctively, accepting the tongue that strokes by your teeth.

Seungcheol’s hand moves down to your ass, and he squeezes you roughly, pushing you back against the black jeep wrangler he’s been driving recently. The motion has you moaning against his lips, and Seungcheol breaks the kiss with a grin. His forehead rests against your own, and you both struggle to catch your breath.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he tells you.

“Me too,” you admit, swallowing thickly. “So… your place?”

“My place,” he confirms, reaching behind you to open the door to his car. He grabs your hand to help you up into the tanked-out jeep, then gently shuts the door behind you.

Your heart is racing. You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

A couple of hours ago, you’d feared the worst, and now, you desperately need good, dirty, wet sex with Seungcheol to take your mind off the anxiety that’s still coursing through you.

“So,” you clear your throat as he pulls out of the parking garage, “did you talk to Jeonghan?”

Seungcheol laughs, reaching to hold your hand while he drives. “Yes, I talked to Jeonghan.”

“Did you mention me?”

“I mentioned you a lot. Mentioned you the first time he came in to talk. He asked the same kinds of questions you did, turns out you’re the only one who was completely oblivious to the way I felt about you.”

“Well… I mean… you’re the agent, not me. Figuring out secrets is your job, I just do handler stuff.” Your skin heats at the idea that others saw his affection for you, but you’d been so blind.

“He agrees that this thing between us, whatever it is, it’s the liability, not either of us alone. He’s putting me on rest, like I said, and when you’re up for it, he’d like to reassign you to some new hire, this wizz kid named Dino or something.”

Although you know reassignment is the best thing in this situation, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Can you really trust someone else to be Seungcheol’s handler? God, you’re feeling downright territorial of this man already-

“Yeah, I’m not too happy about it either,” Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his thumb along your hand. “Some new kid getting you in his ear- he better not fall in love with you.”

“Did you fall in love with me?” you ask.

“Truth serum has worn off, honey,” Seungcheol grins, grinning and bringing your hand to his lips. “But yes, as cliche and stupid as it sounds, I did. And don’t worry, you don’t have to say it back, I know you were all hot and bothered by me too.”

You scoff loudly.

“What was it you said earlier? I ‘find seduction easy’? Don’t pretend we’re not in the same boat here, honey.”

“God, I hate you.” You try to tear your hand away from him but he’s unrelenting.

“Liar. You love me. Love me so much you’re going to let me rearrange your guts.”

“Don’t be so vulgar,” you chastise him.

Seungcheol casts you a sideways glance. “You’re not my handler anymore, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Your pussy throbs at his words. The dynamic between the two of you has always been a push-pull. You were supposed to be the one giving orders, but it never felt… correct. You’d bet your life that soon, when Seungcheol has you pressed to his bed, whispering all sorts of dirty commands in your ear- well, you have no doubts that will feel more natural.

“As dominant as you like to pretend you are as a handler, I think we both know you’d rather be the submissive,” Seungcheol points out. “I can’t wait to see how good you’ll be for me.”

“Cheol-”

“Look at you, honey, a little dirty talk and you’re already a blabbering mess. Can’t find the words, can you?”

“Fuck.”

“You’re adorable,” he grins, shaking his head a little. “You’ll be good for me, I know you will be.”

You’re kissing Cheol the moment you get into his penthouse- or… is he kissing you? It’s hard to tell who moved first, all you know is that one thing leads to another and suddenly he’s hoisting you onto a kitchen counter, his hands already unbuttoning your pants.

You break your heated kiss to take a breath, looking up at the ceiling while he quickly attaches his lips to your neck. “Cheol- this is going a bit fast.”

“Is it?” He tugs your pants down, grinning against your throat. “Do you want me to slow down?”

His thumb finds your clit through your panties and you let out a whimper, clinging onto his strong shoulders.

You can’t even think right now, especially not when he begins to draw small circles against your sensitive bud, pulling away from you so he can watch your face. You open your eyes to look at him, loving the intensity in his expression.

“Tell me to slow down,” he says.

You take a breath, trying to process his words. They’d sounded like a command, so, begrudgingly, you whisper, “Slow down.”

“Too bad, I don’t listen to what you tell me to do, remember?”

He’s such a shit-

A shit that gets onto his knees to immediately burry his face between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side roughly so his tongue can make direct contact with your already throbbing pussy.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper loudly, threading your fingers through his silky dark hair, your legs already shaking around his head.

“Been thinking about what you’d taste like,” Seungcheol muses, pressing a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh. “Knew your pussy would be perfect for me.”

God, his words are getting to you, your mind completely blank of a comeback as Seungcheol dives back into his task, his lips wrapping harshly around your clit.

All you can do is gasp and whine for him, writhing on his kitchen counter while he works you closer and closer to an orgasm with his tongue alone.

When he pulls away to drag two fingers up your slit, your body tenses in anticipation.

“Relax,” Seungcheol chuckles, looking up at you with that handsome grin of his, “It’s only me, honey. You’re comfortable with me…” he pushes his digits into your core, cocking a brow, “right?”

“Yes, fuck-”

“Yes, what?” He crooks his fingers, hitting your gspot and making you cry out.

“Yes, I’m comfortable with you!” you belt out, falling back onto the table so you don’t have to hold yourself up anymore. You want to feel everything he’s giving you- want him to have your full focus.

“Good girl. I think you deserve a reward for admitting that, don’t you?”

You can feel Seungcheol’s breath on your clit while he pumps his fingers, abusing the sweet spot that already has you close to the edge.

“Yeah, yes- I deserve a reward-”

Seungcheol pulls away abruptly, landing a slap to your pussy that has you squealing, your thighs closing around his hand. Your eyes snap open and you stare at him in shock.

“That sounded like a command, honey,” Seungcheol says, prying your legs apart. “Thought we agreed I’d be in charge tonight, and you know I hate being told what to do.”

“I-” you swallow thickly. “Please? Please let me cum?”

“Let you cum?” he taunts, thumb finding your clit but not applying nearly enough pressure.

“Please… make me cum?” you suggest, wanting - more than anything - to say the right thing for him.

“Because you asked so nicely.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink, and then his fingers are slipping into your wet core again, picking up where he left off. His lips return to your clit, which is practically buzzing from the slap, and before you even know it, he has you at the edge.

“Please make me cum,” you whimper desperately. “Fuck, I’m so close- please make me cum, I’ve tried to be a good girl for you- please-”

He hums a sound of confirmation, and the buzzing vibration on your clit is enough to get you there. Your pussy clamps down hard on his fingers, your back arching as waves of pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl against his broad shoulders, sounds leaving you uncensored as you fill his apartment with cries of relief.

You’re throbbing, your pussy practically dripping at this point, but Seungcheol doesn’t let up. Even when you tug on his hair to try to pull him away, he refuses to move. He finger fucks you and sucks on your clit, ignoring the way your thighs close around him, working you through your high all the way until the end.

Seungcheol finally relents when your pussy stops contracting around him, and you let out a massive sigh when he pulls away. You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet, not when you’re still feeling the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm.

You feel him begin to unbutton your shirt and his lips find the swell of your breasts as soon as it’s open. He’s soft in his kisses, gentle, tender even. “Have you come back down to earth yet, honey?” he asks, nuzzling up to your throat.

“Yeah- that was just, really good,” you let out a small laugh, threading your fingers through his hair to keep him tucked to your chest.

“That was just the appetizer, you still haven’t had the main course.”

“God, you’re so-”

“So what?” he teases. “Handsome? Charming? Lovable?”

“Sure of yourself,” you breathe.

“Let me show you something,” he prompts, reaching for your hand. He pulls away from your chest to stand up straight again, guiding your fingers to the front of his pants. His cock is straining against the fabric, and you open your eyes to see Seungcheol grinning when you gasp at how large he is. “When a man has a cock like mine, he can afford to be sure of himself.”

You shiver at his words, and it makes Seungcheol laugh. “Come on, let me take you to bed.”

He hauls you up before throwing you over his shoulder, landing a gentle spank on your ass.

“Remember when I told you I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to leave the bed?” Seungcheol prompts as he tosses you onto the mattress. “You better get comfy, honey.”

“I think…” you feel your daring side beginning to surface, eyes dipping to watch Seungcheol’s skilled fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt, “I think I also remember something about you telling me my truth serum interrogation wouldn’t go unpunished.”

The agent pauses, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re cute, honey.”

“Yeah?” You reach behind your body, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slip to the wayside. “How so?”

Seungcheol’s pupils dilate, his eyes becoming dark, lustful pools.

He doesn’t bother to answer your question, shrugging his shirt off before leaning over you, his hands pressing into the bed to box you in while his lips find yours. It’s a needy kiss, his tongue gliding out to meet your own, but you don’t mind at all.

You cup his face, moaning against him, fingers teasing over his strong shoulders.

Seungcheol is built, even for an agent. Certain men who work with you have leaner physiques, and Seungcheol is not one of them. He’s all big and broad, with lines of muscle that you could trace for hours if given the chance.

His lips begin to trail down to your throat, and you let out a whimper of anticipation when his breath fans across your pebbled nipples.

However, when he gets to your breasts, Seungcheol avoids sucking on the most sensitive spots. He looks up at you, grinning. “I think it’s time for that punishment now.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help the excitement that bubbles through you.

“I want you on your knees, ass up, and take off your panties while you’re at it.”

You know what’s coming when you follow through with the command. The cool air in the room feels nice on your newly exposed, hot core, and you make a show of everything, arching your back.

You can hear Seungcheol let out a deep breath, his hands ghosting over your ass.

“If this hurts too much, let me know.”

“Do your worst,” you counter, wiggling your hips and resting your face against the bed sheets, exhaling deeply in preparation.

You expect a harsh smack, but instead, Seungcheol presses a soft kiss to your right cheek. “I’m punishing you because you took advantage, you know that, right?”

“Uh huh, part of me knew I was being bad interrogating you while you were truth-serumed, but part of me needed to know what your answers would be.”

“Between us, I’m glad you asked the questions you did, or you might not be in my bed right now.”

“I’m glad too,” you confess. “Now, come on Angel Eyes, punish me.”

“I love a woman who takes what she deserves with grace.”

“After this, I deserve your cock.”

“Do you now?” Seungcheol lets out an amused chuckle, grabbing your ass with both hands and squeezing.

“Maybe you deserve my pussy,” you muse thoughtfully.

“Now that’s something I can definitely get behind,” he agrees. “Count these out for me, honey, I’ll give you ten.”

The first smack makes you recoil in surprise, the sound flooding your senses before the sharp pain that blossoms across your skin.

“One,” you announce, balling your hands into the bed sheets.

“How did that feel?” he asks, gently smoothing his palm across the still-burning flesh.

“Good.”

The next hit is a little harder and it makes you whimper, but you do your best to stay steady, unmoving, ready to take what you deserve. “Two.”

Three and four come on your other cheek, and you’re thankful for the reprieve, but smack number five returns to the first side he’d battered, and it stings even more now. However, it’s a pleasantly hot sensation, and your core throbs knowing you’re halfway through your punishment, all the more close to your reward.

“You look like you’re enjoying this too much,” Seungcheol muses, groping your ass again, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

“Maybe I am,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder at the agent.

He grins down at you, lifting a hand- your body flinches involuntarily, and Seungcheol’s smile widens. “Getting sensitive already, huh?”

“Yes,” you admit.

The next slap lands on your pussy, something you hadn’t been expecting, and a squeal of delight erupts out of you at the sensation on your clit.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Seungcheol asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, clenching the bed sheets even tighter.

“How's your clit feeling after one orgasm?” he prompts, thumb finding the sensitive bud and rubbing it in small circles.

“Feels so good,” you whimper.

“You’re practically dripping, honey, didn’t take you for a pain slut.”

“Be nice,” you chastise him.

“Oh?”

Another smack lands on your ass and you dutifully call out “Six.”

“You don’t like being called a little pain slut?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “Please call me nice things.”

“Okay, honey, I can do that,” he concedes, and the next spank isn’t as hard as the last. “You’re being so good for me. We’re almost done.”

“Can’t wait for you to fuck me, I’ve been waiting so long-”

“We’ll get there,” Seungcheol promises, leaning down to press a kiss to your lower back. When he pulls away, number “Eight” comes quickly thereafter.

Your skin is buzzing with anticipation now, and you’re nearly writhing against the bed, but you do your best to be as still as possible while Seungcheol completes this punishment focused foreplay.

After smack number nine, you hear Seungcheol undo his belt, and it takes everything inside of you not to turn around and get a good look at his cock.

He smacks his length gently against your ass, and you let out a small, “Ten?”

He laughs. “No, honey, this is ten.”

The sound of the slap echoes through his room, the hardest of them all so far, and you release a strangled cry, your ass on fire from where he’d hit you.

“That was the pain, now here’s the pleasure.” He rubs his cock through your wet folds, and slips the tip inside, stretching you out wonderfully. The sensation distracts from your sore bum, and your whimper becomes a moan as he drives deeper and deeper into you. “Tell me you like it.”

“I love it,” you blurt, already pushing back toward him in an effort to feel everything.

You’re not sure how big he is, only that he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, but after the tension of your punishment, and the orgasm before that, your pussy greedily swallows up everything he has to give until he’s flush to your still stinging ass.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol cusses, gently grabbing at your hips. “How’s that feel?”

“I feel so full,” you tell him, pussy fluttering around his cock.

“I’ll make you feel fuller,” he promises.

“Yeah?”

“You’re on birth control?”

“Uh huh.”

“Then I’ll definitely fill you up, mark this pussy as all mine, are you okay with that?”

“More than okay with it,” you moan.

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol praises you, beginning to thrust.

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the feeling of his cock dragging along your inner walls.

Your eyes are closed, your focus entirely on Seungcheol as he starts to fuck you, rougher and rougher until his balls are slapping against your clit with each motion.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he tells you, grip tightening on your hips. “It’s like you were made for me, honey.”

The idea causes a visceral reaction, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. You can only moan in response, beginning to move back so you can meet each one of his thrusts.

“And this ass-” One of Seungcheol’s hands moves to cup your sensitive flesh, making you groan even louder. “Fucking perfect. Rub your clit for me, want you to cum again.”

Your hand is shaky as you bring it between your legs, finding your sensitive clit. Your core clenches desperately around Seungcheol and he lets out a deep moan of appreciation.

“That’s my good girl, being so good for me. So good at taking orders.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. It’s as if things were always meant to be this way, you were meant to let him be in control, not the other way around. This feels so much more natural than you telling him what to do ever did.

“Don’t laugh,” Seungcheol chastises you, fucking you even harder. “I’m trying to be nice to you, like you wanted.”

“I just-” you groan when his cock slams into your gspot. “It was never supposed to be me telling you what to do.”

“I’m glad we agree on something,” Seungcheol muses, his motions slowing ever so slightly. “Fuck this, I want to see you.”

He pulls out of your pussy, flipping you onto your back. The contact of the bed against your ass makes you groan, but the sight of Seungcheol’s perfect body looming over you has you distracted less than a moment later.

His cock is big… cut, curving slightly to the left, with a prominent vein that you want to trace with your tongue-

He presses the head of his length to your pussy, easing himself into you while he positions you in missionary. When he’s fully inside of you again, he meets your gaze, then he looks down at your lips.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers before pressing his mouth to yours.

You grab at his strong shoulders, getting lost in the kiss as he begins to fuck you again, the whole bed shaking with the power of his thrusts.

You’ve never made sounds like this in bed before. You’re moaning like a whore, but Seungcheol eats up every whimper, his tongue gliding against your own.

Your fingers thread through his hair, keeping him close as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

The agent pulls away, breathing heavily. “I can feel you clenching, honey, gonna cum again?”

“Gonna cum on your big cock,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit.

You whimper loudly, back arching off the bed. Seungcheol takes the opportunity to finally draw your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing over the sensitive bud.

You gasp, body on fire from all the wonderful sensations. “I’m so close-” you tell him.

“Then cum for me,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit even harder. “Cum on my cock.”

It only takes a few more seconds for you to follow through with his command, the cord snapping in your stomach as your release takes over. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol, and when he lets out a groan, you know your body is milking him for every drop of cum that he has.

His thrusts have become sloppier, more erratic, deeper- and each one has him kissing your cervix, which is a delightful feeling.

You hold him to your breast through your high, and he diligently sucks on your nipple, fucking you until he can’t fuck you anymore.

Finally, Seungcheol slumps down against you, applying some of his weight over you like a weighted blanket.

He’s panting hard against your breasts, cheek pressed to the center of your chest.

“Your heart is going wild, honey,” he muses after a moment.

All you can do is laugh, unable to find the words just yet after the power of your release.

Instead, you stroke his hair, and Seungcheol lets out a murmured moan, nuzzling closer to you. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know.”

He chuckles. “You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Take me on a date first,” you tease.

“Tomorrow, if you can still walk, I’ll take you out.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He presses a kiss to your sternum. “If you can’t walk, I’ll bring the date to you.”

“How romantic,” you say sarcastically.

“Don’t start with me, honey,” he warns.

“I’m not starting anything,” you defend yourself with a giggle.

He looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “Sure you’re not.”

You lean down to kiss him gently, loving how domestic this whole thing has turned. But of course, ever the sex fiend, Seungcheol quickly ruins it. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll fuck you again.”

You can’t help but shake your head. “You promise?”

“If you’re going to talk back like this, make it five.”

He’s such a fuck, but you kind of love him.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know recently I've been doing a lot of short and sweet fics, hoping for a longer one next month :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “We tried letting you be in control,” he responds, pushing your legs together as he straddles you from behind. “It wasn’t as fun as me being in control though."

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, dom/sub themes, powerplays, Seungcheol tries to be a little submissive, he’s not great at following directions, dirty talk, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, mention of deep throating, nipple play/nipple pinching, creamipie, cumming together, etc… I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 175

🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

“Hey, big guy,” you grin as you enter the apartment, eyes finding Seungcheol sitting on the living room couch. “How was your day?”

He pauses his show to look at you, flashing a tired smile. “It was okay.”

“Yikes,” you immediately go to join him on the couch, cuddling up to his side. “The new handler still being a bit of a dick?”

“Joshua was hand-picked by Jeonghan, it’s not like I can do anything about it,” Seungcheol sighs. “How about you, still enjoying the wizz kid?”

“Dino’s a good one,” you insist. “He follows instruction very well.”

Seungcheol scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You still jealous that I’m in his ear and not yours?” you tease, poking your boyfriend’s chest.

“Don’t go there, honey,” he warns.

“Come on- it could be fun. I think having someone who listens well has built my confidence… you know, we could try it out a little, if you want.”

“You want me to be submissive?” Seungcheol’s brows raise in a sort of shocked amusement. “Not a chance in hell.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000

@anothershorthuman - @notbeforelong - @darthlunaa

@chogiwapadada - @meowniee - @pandabur666

@just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono - @lovelyhan -

@grilledbananas - @quennlenn - @zezedoesshit

@unlikelysublimekryptonite - @wonwoothinker

svt taglist

@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird

@xcynthiaaa

thank you to those who interacted with the micro-teaser

@lovinth8 - @sngcheollliee - @smileydk

#seungcheol #seungcheol smut #svthub #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #seungcheol svt #svt seungcheol #scoups svt #svt scoups #s coups #s coups smut #scoups smut #s coups svt smut

2K notes · View notes

taeyongdoyoung · 1 month

Text

hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

“Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids #chan #writing

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

i loove the way you characterize the marauders! is there any chance i can request a drabble of protective! marauders when their s/o wears something very revealing to like a girls night out 🙈

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol, men (the ones who aren't our loverboys)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 843 words

Although he doesn’t think of himself as the confrontational type, Remus has no qualms at all with letting his stare bore relentlessly into the man standing against the wall. It takes a minute for the bloke to feel it, but when he looks away from you and catches Remus’ eye, he decides to ogle his drink instead.

“Fuck,” Sirius sighs, longing woven into the threads of his voice, “that skirt is right dangerous.”

James hums emphatically, both of their eyes glued to where you’re off dancing with your friends.

When you’d pulled it on earlier and your boyfriends’ tongues had just about fallen out of their mouths, you’d described it as a “low rise miniskirt.” Remus thought it might more accurately be called a “strip of fabric.” He’s fairly sure you own headbands that are thicker than what you’re wearing now. Pairing it with one of your little tops had all but ensured James wouldn’t be getting a full, intelligent sentence out all night, and you’d covertly asked Remus to take your boyfriends to the bar for a drink when Sirius wouldn’t unstick his hands from you long enough to let you actually dance.

“She’s alright,” Remus says, turning his stare on another man eye-fucking you from near them at the bar. “She knows how to take care of herself.”

(And you do, though he doubts you’d mind him offering you a bit of help.)

“I meant for me.” Sirius’ expression is theatrically pained. He looks like he couldn’t rip his eyes away from you if he tried. “Look, you both know I don’t like to get too steamy in public—” James snorts, and Remus coughs into his drink “—but if one of you doesn’t kiss me passionately within the next few minutes, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from dragging all three of you straight home.”

“I thought Moony was supposed to be the one with the irresistible urges,” James jokes. Sirius doesn’t seem to hear the joke, but Remus accepts the quick cheek peck James offers him in recompense. “Hang on, I’ll snog you in a bit. Angel!”

He waves his hand until you look over, gesturing for you to come to the bar. If you’re disappointed to be taken away from your girlfriends you don’t show it, though Remus thinks you might be the sort of tipsy where you’re happy with just about everything regardless. You’re beaming as you make your way over to them.

“Hey, lovie,” James says. He kisses your cheek while his fingers find the hem of your skirt, giving it a firm tug so it covers more of your ass. Sirius watches its descent with torment in his eyes. “Do you want another drink?”

Your smile goes crooked. Remus thinks you’re trying to be sly, which is just fucking adorable. “You’re gonna get one for me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at James.

James grins back at you just as contentedly. “If you want,” he agrees, grasping the fabric of your top to shimmy it up an inch. “Another dirty shirley?”

“Please.” You peck him on the lips.

While James turns to speak to the bartender, Sirius steals you away. He takes your hips in both hands, manhandling you closer until he can wrap his arms around your waist and drop his chin on your shoulder. You look happy to be manhandled.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Sirius laments, putting his lips to your skin so his voice is a mournful mumble. You bring up a hand to pet his hair, and the look you give Remus says that you do know, actually. “I think we ought to go home.”

You appear unsurprised at this request. You turn your head to reply, “I’m having fun, though. Aren’t you?”

“I was,” Sirius groans. “Let me come back out there with you, please? I promise to behave this time.”

You hum thoughtfully, sending Remus a playful look. “I don’t know. Do you think he can manage it?”

Remus suppresses a smile. Sirius does love to dance, but Remus knows he sees dancing with you as an opportunity to prove to onlookers that you’re taken as much as it is a chance to grope you himself. And with the mood his last few cocktails have put him in, Remus wouldn’t be surprised if “dancing” turned into a very public makeout session in record time.

“Doubtful,” Remus says, impervious to Sirius’ pout, “but why rob us all of the show.”

Sirius’ grin spreads like a sunrise.

“Alright,” you say as James hands you your drink. “Ready?”

Sirius agrees enthusiastically, and you start back towards the dance floor, shouting a quick “Thanks, Jamie!” over your shoulder as you lift your drink above the crowd.

“Think we ought to worry about her taking that out there?” James cranes his neck to keep track of you. “You know, uncovered and all?”

“No,” Remus says placidly as Sirius snaps at a bloke who happens to glance at your drink as it goes by. “He’s got her just fine.”

1K notes · View notes

bellatrixscurls · 1 year

Text

exquisite weather today, no? | part i

warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.

summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?

a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3

“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.

“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.

Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.

When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.

Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.

“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”

Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.

Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”

Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”

Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?

“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”

Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”

This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”

“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.

“He towers over me?”

The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.

“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”

At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.

In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”

And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.

His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.

Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.

“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.

When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”

Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.

“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.

“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”

At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.

He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”

Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.

Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.

“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”

“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.

He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”

“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.

“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.

“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.

“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.

You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.

A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.

#anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

litchifaerie · 3 months

Note

hii! i hope you’re doing well!!

can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens

pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader

warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD

word count: 1.8k <3

masterlist

a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!

You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?

“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.

“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”

“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.

“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.

You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.

Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.

The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.

“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.

“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.

You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.

“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.

Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.

“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?

The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.

You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.

You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.

“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.

“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.

What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”

One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.

“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”

Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.

As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."

Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.

You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.

But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.

#jia.writes ♡#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys #jace targaryen #jace velaryon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you

1K notes · View notes

gojoest · 10 months

Text

“KEEP YOUR PRETTY EYES SHUT” — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship, somno, fingering, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, pretty, my love), 1k, being sent on a mission out of town satoru agonizes over the fact he has to spend another night without you in his arms, therefore he comes back home earlier than planned — in the middle of the night, while you’re sleeping soundly, dressed only in his shirt

satoru endured exactly 46 hours away from you, almost two whole days — which to him felt like two months, or even more. the higher-ups had sent him to a mission out of town, on the pretext that, as the strongest sorcerer, he was the only one fit to deal with it. the case required his presence, the higher-ups had said, which eventually, not to his surprise, turned out to be out of true. at times like this it felt like sending him on away missions was a way for the higher-up to take revenge on him for always meddling with their decisions. those bastards had certainly found his weak spot.

when he came back, it was the middle of the night. the lights in the house were off, indicating that you were already sound asleep, which he already knew — you were dozing off during your hour-long call earlier to say good night. he was supposed to return in the morning but hearing your sweet sleepy voice on the other side of the line, telling him you love him and how you were wearing his shirt to sleep again tonight, made his stomach in knots from longing to see you, and he missed you all the more. agonizing over the fact he had to sleep another night without you in his arms, he found himself already packing to leave and go back home, to you.

and there you are at last — right before his eyes, a sleeping beauty in his bed. despite the darkness filling the room, satoru could see you clearly — lying on your back, lips slightly slick with spit, chest moving up and down, nostrils slightly flaring and matching your breathing pattern, hair messy from all the tossing and turning, and a pinkish hue on your cheeks. were you thinking of him, too? in your sleep? is this why your cheeks were all red? did you miss him as much? — he thinks while creeping forward, careful enough not to make any sound as his feet move on the wood, not to let any of it creak.

he slowly sits on the bed, hooking two fingers underneath the edge of the blanket covering your body and pulling it back, cautiously peeling the cover back from your legs and setting it aside, to take a good look at what’s hiding beneath.

he was only supposed to tuck himself in, next to you, take you in his arms and fall asleep to your scent filling his lungs. but you, although unintentionally, were working against him. the shirt of his you were wearing had sometime along the night ridden up while you were sleeping, revealing your beautiful skin up to your belly which allowed satoru a perfect gaze between your legs.

“come on, baby. really now? so unfair…”, he huffs under his nose, his cheeks starting to burn hot, “just my shirt — and no panties?!”, lips parting slightly as he’s taking in the surprise before his eyes, your bare pussy stirring ideas in his head. both heads, actually.

“fuck”, he whispers; he’s getting hard.

he sucks two of his long digits into his mouth, getting them wet enough before putting them between your inviting legs. his free hand unbuckling his slacks to rub his palm on his growing cock, spreading the precum already gathered at the tip along the entirety of it. getting himself all wet and sticky for you before he does the same with you, too.

satoru starts from the bud of your clit, touching it very carefully, pressing on it with the tip of his finger.

“nghh…”, you sigh in your sleep, eyelids still closed but legs parting further at his touch.

“shh…”, he hums, “it’s okay, my love”, stroking down the sides of your cunt before pushing a digit in, and then slowly — another one, too, spreading your lips, exposing the openness of your hole and the wetness glistening there.

“keep sleeping, my love”, he speaks quietly. his fingers pushing themselves deeper in your cunt, playing and rubbing at its walls and earning sweet sleepy moans from the low in your throat. his mouth hangs open, goes dry at the feeling of your warmth inside, the way you welcome him and clench around his fingers, even in your sleep. “shit, baby. now i have to do it”, he groans quietly, his other hand now stroking his throbbing cock more furiously. he wants his dick to feel it, too; his hand is not doing it for him anymore, he needs to sink it deep inside of you.

“i just wanted to come home to you and cuddle you to sleep, but now…”, satoru huffs through a hearty pant, stopping his ministrations to slowly climb on top of you, between your legs, moving them apart with his hands sticky from your both of your fluids, one covered in you, and the other — in him.

“but now i want to cuddle myself in and come in you, too”

satoru couldn’t handle the temptation that is you anymore; his cock so fucking hard, he couldn’t stand it any longer. and you’re just right there — open and easy for him, eager for it even, despite not being awake. “shit, it’s all your fault, you know?”, he growls, slowly rubbing the tip against your wet entrance, up and down the length of it a few times — “messing with me like this..” — before thrusting into you, hands pressing and sinking into the plush of your thighs, whimpering at the tight clutch around him, that wonderful heat, the sweetness and wetness of your pretty pussy; his pussy.

“aghh..” you choke out and your eyes flutter open, suddenly overwhelmed and awakened by the fullness filling your cunt, “s-satoru.. nghh.. what are you d—”, you gasp in surprise, “are you fucking me?”

“shh..”, he presses your lips shut with a finger, “keep your pretty eyes shut and leave it all to me”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

3K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 3 months

Note

love love LOVEE your toji/sukuna fics, mean big guys have me in a chokehold, but even more so if there’s aftercare right after destroying u , I’d like to see how you write that! No pressure, just a suggestion lol

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: no but you're so valid, idk why i keep forgetting about after care, ughhh!! ty for loving my tojikuna stuff <3

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (kuna got 2 dicks) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - biting/nibbling - dacryphillia - unprotected sex - aftercare; taking a warm bath together + tending wounds - pet names (baby, [little] dove, pet, princess, sweet thing) - tojikuna being snarky partners; good luck, lmao - mention of blood, drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

“Ahaaahhn! T-Tojii, t-too fast, going too fas—Shhaaa!!”

“Heh, y’re complainin’, but y’re the one squeezin’ my dick like crazy.”

“Hmph, right, like some dirty whore…Shit, ass’s so tight…”

You were the partner of both Tōji Fushiguro and Sukuna Ryōmen—a fact that many would be astonished to know and for you to go dizzy thinking about.

How does one lure in the deadly, cursed being proclaimed the King of Curses and a cold-blooded assassin dubbed the Sorcerer Killer? You couldn’t even think of a quick answer to such a question. What you do know is that being a spouse of the terrifying two in this polyamorous relationship was the definition of intense. And that would go for tonight as well.

Being bent and forced to be taken advantage of by your two lovers was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, it’s almost a daily occurrence when either of them comes and pulls you aside to appease themselves. Nonetheless, what else was a little cute wife like you supposed to do: sit there and look pretty? Not tonight, at least.

You were all confined in your shared quarters, all three bodies atop the futons pulled to the tatami flooring—three bodies stripped from their discarded attire, now nude and meshed together in hot and wanton passion.

Toji was beneath you, yet that didn’t diminish his control over you. You may be straddling him and moving your hips to take in his erect cock into your aching cunt. However, his hands are stationed firmly on your waist, influential to your pace as he bucks into your wetness stuffed on excessive come. The fast ruts make it grueling to find the rhythm—but that’s what the dark-haired man wants, to see you all desperate and wailing from up above. “How ya feelin’, sweet thing?”

As if you had any room to speak, so winded that wails were the only words you could say.

“Oi, pet, answer when you’re being talked to.”

And the voice behind you doesn’t make this scene any better.

From your backside, Sukuna’s massive frame hovered over you and Toji’s, his gigantic frame easily dwarfing you both. His lower arms hold you down by the calves, and his upper left keeps him upright from easily squishing his partners. And the upper right crawls up to your throat, suffocating your airways lightly with just his thumb and forefinger.

As the other has you from below, the gigantic cursed man deals with you from above. His lower member is plunged into your rear hole, stretching you to the point of tears with his hefty girth while the other rubs on the crevice of your ass with every push of his hips. The hands on your legs come up to your waist, brushing Toji’s, who moves his to your chest.

His guttural purrs send shivers up to your ears, and the tongue of his stomach probes you with a lick on your sweaty back. “We need words, or else you’ll be crushed without knowing, little dove.”

Because that is what you were: their little wife tending to them as a spouse would.

You swallow spit before the grip on your throat gets any tighter. “I–I…Feel sho goood…!” You twitch when the behemoth licks and nibbles on your ear so dangerously as if he’s tempted to eat you—he just might be. “—Mmmhh! S-Shoo fuull..”

Toji notices and snickers, “Yeah, baby?” His hands on your breasts are rough, making you whimper. “Doin’ good so far,” he tweezes a nipple, earning a sharp yelp to leave your puffy lips. “Hehm, so adorable, mama…” you cry even more when he pops the other nipple into his mouth; the feel of his tongue on your bud had you hot.

“—Hnnm!! Fucking hell, this ass…!” Sukuna’s groans are felt, the vibrations rattling your bones. “Keep grippin’ me like that, princess..” He adds more weight and has you howling like no tomorrow. The nails of his fingers leave dents that you’re sure to see later on—just more to add onto the collection harboring all over your skin – bites and marks galore.

Your eyebrows screw together, drool escaping your agape lips. The laps around your nipple become feverish along with Toji’s thrusts, and Sukuna pistoning his cock so harshly; it makes you wobble, yet you maintain your balance for the older man beneath you to keep sucking and playing with your chest.

“—Taahh, uhhgg, sh-shiiit,” your hands grip the sheets as your eyes roll to the top–a sign that you were to fall into your release in mere seconds from the constant rubs of your sensitive spots.

Clamping onto their shafts, you shriek during the impending climax, the walls of your holes puckering and contracting around the limbs that graze your sensitive nerves. You finally give in and fumble atop Toji, luckily catching your expected reaction with a smirk. “Fuck, feel so good and tight,” he kisses your cheek and chortles when your arms sling around his neck. “Stay still, baby; let us finish here.”

The two men still undulate their hips, their dicks ravaging your insides even when you’re stuck in your crescendo. You nearly choke on your spit, wailing as you’re forced to submit to their frantic bucks, and the sounds of them moaning and groaning only fuel your ears to clench them even tighter. It has both men hiss and tighten their hold on you, Toji burrowing his face to bite your shoulder while Sukuna’s fangs dig into the other. And you can tell blood was drawn as the giant licks the inflicted marking.

At your scream, they simultaneously bust their loads into your trembling frame, stuffing you with more of their essence in your cunt and asshole. And Sukuna’s upper cock dispels its semen out to paint your back. The sensation of their lengths pulsating inside you has you quiver, hiccupping when they sneak in short yet fierce pounds into your sore holes until their sweaty frames succumb to tranquility. Then, they remove their limbs with a blissful groan to your sob, come sliding and dripping down to your thighs.

Finally, you sigh into Toji’s chest as he kisses your forehead and kneads your ass lovingly. I can finally rest now…

However, you squeak when your body is pulled upward so quickly, and you’re now being held by Sukuna, who straightens up and stands up. He scoffs, “Relax, dove.” The hand under your legs squeezes the flesh of your thigh.

Leaving Toji to the futon, the cursed ancient man thunderously strides out to the room two rooms down from the shared room. He slides the shoji door open after the changing room, and you’re instantly met with a wave of humid air from the bathing area. Ripples from the humongous stone bath become more evident as Sukuna closes in, and the water climbs when he gets inside with his massive volume.

He sits, the water sitting above the mouth of his abdomen. He has you sitting on his lap, yet his lower arms still hold you close to his chest. With the upper left, he brings the wooden bucket the servants left behind to scoop with water and pours it gently above your head.

Your hands wipe the water from your face, but a washcloth and a colossal hand wipe it down for you. “Y-You know, I can clean myself,” you inquire with a scrunched expression as Sukuna wipes your cheeks a little too rough.

“With your shaky legs, I’d be amazed if you’d even make three steps out of the room.” You pout at his tease, and it only has him want to poke fun at you more. “Like a baby deer trying to walk.”

You snatch the washcloth with a heated face. “Quit it!” Humiliated, you sigh and raise your left arm to dap on the markings decorated on your skin. However, he takes it away from you, his lower left gently grabbing your arm for the lower right to compress the damp cloth on your sore markings.

“Let me.” He wasn’t asking, leaving you no space to interject his company. He pulls an ointment from the other wooden basket into the washcloth; the lavender scent pleases your nostrils while the minty sensation cleanses your skin. “Sit back,” he orders you, and you allow your back to rest on his torso, watching the man tend to the wounds he and his partner inflicted on you. It almost puts you to sleep, sighing pleasingly and relaxing to the monster’s touch.

Speaking of, “Wow, so ya leave me at the room to clean up after you two, huh?” Toji enters the bathing space, joining you and Sukuna in the warm water. “What am I, y’r maid?”

“You seem to have walked here on your own just fine.” Sukuna bends to place a kiss on top of your head while the raven-haired other approaches closer. “You have no room to complain, Fushiguro.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you observe Toji come to you between Sukuna’s legs. “Hey, mama, feel better?” You nod to him meekly while he cups your cheeks with one hand. He then brings you to a soft kiss, mewling to his lips while his wet thumb brushes your cheek. “Mmm, so cute…Stand up fr’ me.”

He takes the wet cloth from Sukuna’s grasp while you slowly rise. He helps you turn around to have your back to him, your hands clinging onto Sukuna’s thighs while the giant gives the human male a cream to place on the rag. Toji then rubs circles on the red crescents of your waist–dents marked from Sukuna’s nails–and you jerk and hiss at the contact.

“I know, sweetie, I know,” he coaxes you with whispers to the ear and a kiss on your shoulder. “Blame ‘Kuna for doin’ a number on ya.”

“Keh, I know you’re not talking,” the salmon-haired one sniggers as he grabs another dry cloth to wipe your collarbone. “I can count with three hands how many of these hickeys aren’t mine.”

The other barks a laugh. “Now I know y’r ass is lyin’.” The two men humor themselves on the trauma they just put you and your tiny body through, and you can only shake your head at their insufferableness. Yet, at the very least, they’re taking their roles as your lovers to take care of your body. Not so bad, isn’t it?

Especially when the bathing is over, and you’re all clean from the event that transpired an hour ago, sleep stops evading you, and you return to the shared room ready for slumber. To end the night, the candles are blown out, you’re adorning your yukata robe for your soft skin, and Toji and Sukuna wait for you on the futon to conclude this session.

Toji has you to his right, arm around your figure to keep you close to his warmth. This gives you the view of his easeful sleeping face; the moonlight from the opened shoji window panels makes it easy to trace his handsome features and the deft scar on his lips. To his left was Sukuna, his tremendous size unavoidable, and his strength still evident as his upper arm cages you and the other older man in proximity. The pink-haired beast purrs at the rub of Toji’s hand on his nape and hair, and you giggle at the display—like a giant cat.

Seeing the Sorcerer Killer and the King of Curses act so leisurely around someone is inconceivable; not many live to see such a picture when met with their brute force and killing instincts. And yet, you suppose that makes you more valuable than anyone, their sole and precious partner.

And as you bury your face and let the blanket of sleep take over, you rest for yet another night, knowing you’re in the best care you could ask for.

3K notes · View notes