Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left.
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you?
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse.
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything.
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly.
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere.
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it.
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe.
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words.
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought.
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go.
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own.
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back.
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms.
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you?
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru.
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him.
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by.
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend.
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core.
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra.
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you.
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him.
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker.
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now.
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down.
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity.
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor.
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts.
And it was so unfair.
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were.
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt.
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used.
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now.
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you.
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything.
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance.
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier.
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close.
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer.
But it wasn’t fast enough.
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat.
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard.
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time.
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-”
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth.
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything.
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of.
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue.
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes.
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild.
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then.
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time.
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum.
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive.
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice.
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick.
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy.
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs.
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…”
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t.
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him.
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks.
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face.
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting.
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow.
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet.
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut.
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it.
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty.
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind.
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain.
And then it’s black.
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so.
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel?
Plagiarism not authorized.
fracture v
ran x reader
ran x reader w bonten sprankled in
summary: old friends become enemies. ran shows a bit more of his hand. so does mikey.
cw - drugs, smut, guns, murder, praise, degradation, dub!con, reader is a sex worker w a sick brother. ran likes you!!! likes you a lot!! too much probably, probably far too much. a/n extra long because i made you wait.
minors dni
prev
“Listen,” he says, “Kakucho said this shit to me once, that the only things in life that matter are the things that bring you happiness. I like the girl, so I’m keeping the girl.” A small spark burns in your chest as he speaks. “I like Mcallan 25 so I drink Mcallan 25. I like my Bentley, I like my penthouse, I like workin’ hard but not too hard. You overcomplicate things,” he wrinkles his nose at the very idea of it. “You,” he says, “Get stuck between duty and happiness, and expectation, which, is a fuckin’ minefield considering our line of work.” Ran shrugs. “Me, I just go with the flow.” The car slows to a stop. “I gotta go have dinner with a beautiful woman and talk a bit about drugs over the best bolognese in the city. Try not to get your panties in an existential twist, maybe try finding some of that bratty pussy you like so much.”
“Ugh.” Rindou groans. “Call me when you’re done.”
“I won’t.” Ran grins, reaching for the door. “But you can call me. You can always call me.” Years flash in Rindou’s eyes, Izana, Juvie, their last halcyon days in Roppongi.
“I know,” Rindou says. “I know I can.”
Ran hangs up and sighs before wrapping an arm around you, and rubbing your shoulder. He presses his lips together before speaking.
“This could get rough.” He says quietly and then brightens. “Big day for you, though, huh?” You nod, nuzzling closer to him. “It won’t be like this all the time,” he explains, “But we’ll need to sort out this mess.”
“I’m so sorry,” you look up at him, “I’m so sorry about your friend.” A muscle in Ran’s jaw tightens, and he nods.
“I’m alright, sweetheart.” He looks over at Yuuta, “Didja bring it?” Yuuta nods, palming him a box wrapped in white paper. “For you.” Ran grins, and you open it carefully, lifting the object out of tissue paper with reverence. It’s a purple leather holster, so dark it’s nearly black, with a short buckle, clearly meant to be worn around your thigh, and tucked inside is a tiny, adorable silver gun. “It’s a 4.25 Lilliput pistol.” He explains, “And I want you to have it everywhere we go.” You nod.
“Yes, sir,” you run your fingers over the leather seam, and look up at him, eyes wide, “Thank you.” He shoots you a wolfish smile.
“You don’t use it without my permission.” He says, and his stern tone flies you back to one of your teachers, nearly ten years ago. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” You repeat. Yuuta looks away, fidgeting as Ran pulls you closer.
___
“Heard you were in a bit of trouble,” Rodrigo Alfizi shakes Ran’s hand, standing up from his chair at the restaurant. He’s tall but still shorter than Ran, and his dark eyes sparkle in the candlelight of the private dining room. It’s luxe, with soft white tablecloths, adorned with votive candles and lush greenery. The hostess ushered you back here without asking any questions and Ran only drops your hand when Rodrigo offers his.
“Nothin’ I can’t handle.” Ran pulls out a chair for you, and you sit, delicately dressed in an outfit he chose, hands folded in your lap. “This is my assistant.” Rodrigo nods, reaching a hand out to you. You look to Ran, who nods, and you take it. Rodrigo brings it to his lips and then releases it quickly.
“I’m afraid my wife was feeling under the weather.” He says, and you see Ran cock his head just the slightest degree.
“Sorry to hear that.” The two men sit at the table and Ran glances at the menu and answers before the waitress opens her mouth. “We’ll have the Chateau Mouton red blend, and start with the carpaccio.”
“Yes sir,” she stammers and then looks to Rodrigo, who shrugs.
“I’ll stick to a negroni,” he smiles, “And the eggplant crostini.” She nods and disappears, and when the door closes he leans forward, leaning on the table. “So, Mr. Haitani,” he says, “I hear I owe you my condolences.” Ran shrugs.
“Thank you.” He says, and it strikes you how he doesn’t engage in his usual banter, eyes flicking to the closed door. “I wanted to talk to you about the docks.” The other man raises his bushy eyebrows.
“Yes, you’ve told me that there’s a chance you’d take your business to Sakusa.” Rodrigo leans back in his chair. “I have to say, disappointing to hear, given, of course, our long relationship.” Ran nods.
“I don’t wanna do it, buddy, but you’re forcing my hand here. We’ve had three shipments lost in the last few months, that’s more than 150K of product.” The waitress comes, holding a bottle of dark red wine. They pause their conversation as she opens it in front of you both, Ran tastes it and then nods to her, she fills both of your glasses and leaves again.
“Surely,” Rodrigo says, and you hear it now, an edge to his tone. “Surely you’re not willing to throw away years of friendship over a few lost boxes.” Ran shrugs.
“S’not me, Rodrigo, it’s Koko.” Ran takes a sip of his wine, and you notice that Rodrigo waits to speak until Ran sets the glass back on the table. Ran wipes his mouth delicately, taking his time, measuring the power he still held. “Of course, I’d like to keep you on, but I can’t justify the losses at this point.” There’s another silence, and you feel Ran relax a little.
“I think I may have a solution,” Rodrigo says, just as the waitress comes in with his cocktail. “I may be able to track a few of those boxes down.” Ran hums, leaning forward and drumming his fingers on the table. “And I could offer you something more valuable, as, let’s say, a token of gratitude.” He brings the cocktail to his lips and Ran hums, it’s a deep, grumbling sound.
“Whatcha thinkin’,” He says, and you’re struck by how fluid his speech patterns are, how he can go from high falutin and prissy to talking low and dangerous.
“About that trouble you’ve been having.” Rodrigo says, “I might know something.” Ran sighs, taking another sip of his wine. You bring your glass to your lips and have to stop yourself from reacting. It’s the strangest thing, deep and sweet and rich, grounded in bitterness. Ran notices in his peripherals and rests a hand on your bare thigh. “I heard you had a regrettable loss.” Ran nods.
“Knew Shion a long time. The service is on Thursday if you’d like to make an appearance.”
“Of course,” Rodrigo says and he clears his throat before continuing. “I’ve got a lead for you, about the Silver Dragons.” You stiffen next to Ran and he feels it but squeezes your thigh tightly. “You were thinking about Daito Yagami, weren’t you?” Ran’s face remains impassive. “And I assume Mikey might have been wondering if a certain Osanai had any living relatives, and I wonder if Kakucho even remembers Honda Amaya.” Ran withdraws his hand from you. “You’ve been in the game a long time,” Rodrigo says, and you swear the room drops two degrees in temperature. You watch Ran’s hand fly to the waistband of his pants. “You’ve all left a trail of bodies in your wake, and you thought the day would never come where you’d have to answer to that?” He leans forward, but Ran doesn’t back down. “All men must answer for their sins.”
“Is this the part where you monologue and feel self-righteous?” Ran says, hand flicking the safety off on his gun and you swallow nervously, mentally calculating how fast you could run, how far away Isami and Yuuta were outside. “Because I’ll skip to the part where I put a bullet in your head.” Rodrigo balks, and Ran puts the gun on the table, eyes narrowed. “You wanna fuck me over, Rodrigo Alfizi?” Ran says. “Go ahead.”
“Easy,” Rodrigo purrs attempting to regain his composure, “Easy, Haitani. You know I’m not dirty, or you wouldn’t have shown up here. I’m just providing you with,” he trails off, thinking, you can see the flicker of the votives in his dark eyes, “Information.” Ran doesn’t frown, but the slight downturn of one corner of his mouth is enough. He squeezes your thigh and stands.
“I won’t be played with.” His tone is short and clipped. “Come on.” You stand, pushing your chair in.
“Wait,” Rodrigo sputters, “You don’t-”
“Did you consider,” Ran says, whirling around, one hand on your wrist, “That we came here because we knew you were dirty?” There’s a silence, you can hear the clang of pots and pans in the kitchen nearby. “And I was offering you one last chance?”
“I’m not-” Rodrigo starts, but Ran doesn’t let him speak.
“Did you consider?” Ran says, tone frigid, “That I’m a dangerous fucking man, Rodrigo Alfizzi?”
“Of course I did,” Rodrigo’s eyes narrowed, “Which is why I’d never cross you.” Ran doesn’t move. “I’ll, I can give up my contact.” He says, shoulders slumping a little. “If you won’t go to Sakusa.”
“We’re already going to Sakusa,” Ran snaps, “You lost 150K of product, even if it was a genuine mistake which,” Ran shakes his head, “You’re far too smart to think I buy that bullshit. You’ve been skimming off the top for years, but this time you took it too far, so we’re going to Sakusa.” A vein in Rodrigo’s forehead pulses. “Give me your contact and I won’t have my men kill your fucking family.” He drops your hand and takes a back towards the table. Rodrigo looks frozen, your own hands are trembling in a way you hope isn’t visible. “I know where your wife gets her nails done,” Ran says, eyes narrowed, “I know which window in your apartment your son sleeps underneath. You’ll give me the contacts.” A bead of sweat rolls down Rodrigo’s face. “Coulda played nice,” Ran coos, which is somehow more terrifying than his anger. “Coulda had a nice dinner, but you decided to push me. Was that smart?” Ran takes another step forward, Rodrigo is looking anywhere but at him. “I said, was that fucking smart?” He darts around the table when Rodrigo doesn’t respond and the other man speaks quickly.
“No, sir.” Rodrigo manages, and Ran breaks into a wide smile, drawing his weapon and whipping it across the man's face, blood spurting into the white tablecloth.
“What was that?” Ran repeats, still sounding like a teacher reprimanding a child.
“I said,” Rodrigo doesn’t look up, his voice small and broken, “No sir.”
“This isn’t fucking amateur hour.” Rans's eyes darken. “There is one fucking way you walk outta here with a heartbeat, and it’s if you give up who you’re working with.” Rodrigo is sweating, you can see it glistening on his cheeks in the candlelight. Your heart thrums in your chest. “I just wanted to have one normal night out with my girl,” Ran sighs. “Sorry, sweetheart, that daddy’s friends don’t have any manners.”
“That’s alright.” You chirp, you’re settling into a strange cool calm as if you’re far away from your body. Ran can handle this. Ran can handle anything. You know he can. “I can go outside and get Isami and Yuuta?” You offer.
“Nah,” Ran shrugs, smiling widely, lips pulled back over sharp teeth, and he shoots the gun, the silencer doing little to help with the immediate popping sound, the bullet entering Rodrigo’s shoulder, blood spatters on the tablecloth. “We got what, three minutes before your men get here?” Ran says, as Rodrigo swears violently, “‘Cept, are they coming? Because,” he shoots him again, this time in the thigh, blood staining the man's white shirt, “Maybe I got to ‘em first.”
“Fuck you,” Rodrigo spits some blood on the floor, “I’m not saying shit.” Ran sighs deeply, cocking the gun again. “You’re all fucked,” he spits again, “Bonten is over, you just don’t realize it yet.”
“Do I look over ?” Ran snarls, and in one short movement, he shoves the table over, wine staining the white carpet, glasses shattering. “I’m not fucking around,” he moves so quickly you’re not entirely sure you even saw him go, but when you blink he’s got the barrel of his gun pressed to Rodrigo’s forehead. “150K of missing product and you think I came here without backup? Without suspicion?”
“You-” Rodrigo is struggling to breathe at this point, frozen, his eyes flick to you, “You brought your-”
“She can handle herself,” Ran says, and his tone cuts like a knife. “Don’t you even fuckin’ look at her, you goddamn coward. Jesus Christ,” he presses the barrel harder, “Tell me. You’re gonna tell me right fucking now.” You hear movement, a crash in the hallway, but Ran ignores it. “Tell me who’s coming for us,” the noises get louder, and you hear Yuuta shout. Ran leans forward, “You think I won’t kill you,” he hisses, “You think I would hesitate to get your brains all over this pretty white room, but I don’t give a shit .” There’s another moment, and you hear Rodrigo choke out a sob, you stand up as he says,
“It’s, it’s not just,” the tears fall from his eyes, “Please, don’t fucking shoot me, Haitani, I, if I give them up they’ll-”
“I will sleep so fucking well tonight,” Ran says, ice cold, fully calm. “I don’t care what happens to you.”
“I, it’s not just Yagami,” He says, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, “It’s, it’s all of them-” The doors burst open and you let out a gasp of pain as Yuuta plucks you up off the ground and throws you over his shoulder.
“We gotta go,” He says, and Ran sighs. “Car’s out back.”
“Fine.” Ran shoots Rodrigo one more time, in the opposite shoulder and this time the man yells. Yuuta turns on his heels and in the hallway you watch Isami’s hand collide with a man’s face, his blood flecking the white walls of the restaurant, and nonsensically your mind flies to the thousand-dollar bottle of wine that was now pooling on the carpet. The three of you leave quickly out the back, Isami following, you leap into the car and the tires squeal as Isami drives off. Yuuta hands you immediately to Ran, who fumbles with his Juul, angrily taking a puff, and yanking you half into his lap.
“Fuckin’ liked that restaurant.” He grumbles, annoyed. He tosses the Juul in a cupholder as the car speeds through the city. His phone rings in his pocket. He answers without a greeting.
“Alfizzi’s fuckin’ dirty, have Koko officially move us to Sakusa.”
“Shit,” you hear Rindou’s voice on the other end of the phone. “What the hell happened?” Ran digs his fingers into your hip.
“Weirdest fuckin’ thing, he essentially confessed,” Ran says, shaking his head, “Dangled information in front of me like I wouldn’t shoot him in his own goddamn restaurant for crossing me.” He rolls his eyes.
“You shot him in his own-”
“We got out already.” Ran says quickly, “I’ll lay low for a bit but he’s not stupid enough to go to the cops,” he holds you tightly, “You at the offices?”
“Yeah,” Rin says, “Hold on, Mikey and Sanzu are still here.” You hear some muffled movement on the end and the click of the phone being put on speaker. “Alfizzi crossed us,” Rindou explains, bursting into the room where Mikey and Sanzu are working, or more accurately, Mikey is clicking through emails and Sanzu is napping on the couch.
“Oh shit?” Sanzu rubs his eyes.
“Ran got out,” Rindou explains, “But he said Alfizzi’s in bed with the Silver Dragons.” You tug Ran’s sleeve in the limo, having something to tell him, but he brushes you off.
“Yeah,” Ran jumps in, “He brought up uh,” Ran hesitates, and you see an emotion you’re unfamiliar with cross his face. “He brought up Osanai. And Honda Amaya, and uh, Yagami of course.”
“Haitani,” You can picture Mikey frowning. “Did you have to make a scene?” Ran rolls his eyes in the car, squeezing you affectionately.
“In this case, I actually minimized the damage boss,” He shrugs, taking another puff of his Juul, “My fault for not just putting a bullet in his head the second I thought he’d turned on us a few months ago.”
“I didn’t know you were capable of restraint,” Mikey says dryly, and Ran laughs, you look down at the red spots on your dress, unsure if they’re blood or wine.
“I’ve got a girl to come home to now,” Ran quips, “I’m a changed man.” You hear a rush of static on the other end of the phone. “You want me to come by?”
“No.” Mikey stares out the window. “No, go to bed. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ran says, and Mikey hangs up. Ran turns his attention back to you, tugging your soft body into his lap protectively. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “But you weren’t afraid there, were you?” You look up at him, twisting in his arms to meet his cool gaze.
“No, sir.” You whisper.
“Why’s that?” He says, hand settling on your hip, as always he touches you with little regard for the other men in the car. You think about your answer, before taking his free hand in both of yours, and bringing it to your chest like a child might hold a security blanket.
“As long as you’re here,” you hold his gaze, “I know I don’t have to be afraid.” Surprise breaks over him for a moment before it melts into a smirk and he leans down and kisses your forehead.
“That’s my girl.” His hand slips from your waist to push your skirt up, and your breath hitches in your throat, was he about to touch you in front of his men, did he want- your thoughts are cut off when you realize he’s touching the gun strapped to your thigh. “Safety’s still on.”
“You said to ask permission before using it.” You answer, feeling Yuuta’s eyes on your back.
“I did.” He shrugs, withdrawing his hand. “Just surprised you listened, since you grabbed Rin’s gun.” A thought bubbles to the surface of your mind, but you don’t speak it. Ran reads the hesitation on your face. “You can say it, sweetheart.”
“I, I don’t belong to Rindou.” You say softly, so quietly it’s almost lost in the hum of the engine. Ran chuckles darkly.
“No. No, you don’t.”
_________
The next few days are calmer, you don’t have any missions or any work at all. You tail Ran at the office, doing your best to be invisible. He doesn’t let you stray far, he keeps you close whenever possible, tucking you against his chest when Sanzu’s eyes linger on your body, when Kokonoi scowls in your general direction. You spend the nights in his bed, and that’s where you are when you can sense his mind drifting far away from you. You scoot up on his chest, twisting your body in a way you haven’t been able to since you met him for the first time, feeling only a morsel of the previous pain that would have accompanied such a movement.
“I,” He starts, rubbing circles in your back. “I like having you here.” You hum softly, holding onto him tightly. “Sit up for me.” He pats his thighs and you straddle him obediently, “Pretty girl,” he coos, reaching up and cupping your face, and you nuzzle against his hand affectionately.
“I like being here.” You whisper, and he pulls you down, crushing you against his chest, “Thank you.” He hums.
“You feeling better?” He asks, and you nod. “Good ‘cause uh, Mikey’s insisting you learn how to fight.” You stiffen against him, eyes wide. “Yeah, it’s par for the course. I know you’re a good shot,” he pats your back, “But uh, I don’t like it. I got overruled.”
“Oh.” You whisper.
“Rin’s gonna be real gentle with you,” Ran grumbles, “Or I’m gonna kick his fuckin’ ass.”
He shakes his head. You realize this is an admission of sorts, that he seems more present after sharing it. That worries your physical safety was enough to keep him awake.
“You want me to get you a pill,” you offer, and he nods, kissing your cheek.
“You take one too.” You reach into his nightstand and brush past his loaded Glock, taking
two purple pills, placing one of them in Ran’s mouth, and the other on your own tongue. He pulls you down again, and rolls half on top of you, burying his face in your neck.
“Hate it when they look at you.” He mutters. “I fuckin’ hate it. You’re so goddamn lucky we didn’t meet while you were working, I’d have killed everyone else scheduled to see you that day.” You shiver, and he ignores it.
“Daddy,” you whisper, and fuck, your soft little voice in the darkness drives him insane. “I, I wouldn’t want you to hurt anyone on my behalf, and I know it’s not my choice and you’ll do what you want, I know.” He nods, half opening his eyes to look down at you. “But I don’t, if it’s ever up to me, I don’t want you to.”
“Okay,” he breathes, “Okay, baby.” He squeezes you. “Okay.”
____
“I,” you swallow, even though he’s shorter than Ran, Rindou towers over you, eyes narrowed and impatient. “Are you sure this is necessary?” He nods, a single tendril of purple hair flopping from his headband onto his forehead as he crouches into a fighting stance. You’re at a gym that Bonten owns, and you’d assumed you’d be able to stretch, maybe run on a treadmill, but Rindou had immediately ferried you right to a back room with a mat on the ground.
“You need to learn how to fight for your own good.” He says. “If you’re not gonna listen to me when I tell you to run,” you bite back your response, that he didn’t in fact, tell you to run. “If you’re gonna be reckless you gotta learn to handle shit.” You nod. Your hair is tied away from your face, and for the first time in days, you can stand without pain.
“O-okay, am I, am I standing right?” You ask, and he softens a little, moving to correct your stance. His hands only briefly brush your hips. Sanzu and Mikey are in the corner, Mikey’s stretching and Sanzu’s curling a barbell, but you feel like you have their attention.
“So if I swing at you,” Rindou says, “What are you going to do?” You press your lips together.
“Um, duck?”
“Sure.” He nods. “Let’s try it.” He swings a fist at you slowly, and you drop down underneath his hand before your heart breaks into a sprint and instinct overrides you. You spring up, pushing off the ground and punching Rindou under the chin with a hard uppercut. He looks at you, shocked, for just a second, before the life leaves his eyes and he crumples to the floor.
“Oh god!” You cry out, and immediately Sanzu and Mikey are at your side, Mikey pulls you backward and Sanzu kneels and presses his fingers to the side of Rindou’s neck. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just instinct took over, I-” Sanzu cuts you off with a high-pitched cackle.
“Have you ever been in a fight,” Mikey says, turning to you, his grip on your arm iron. He watches you swallow and fidget.
“I, I, my dad went to jail and it was, it was in the news I, people, um, they tried to, tried to say things to my brother about it, they'd um, they’d find me at recess but it’s been years, I, god Rindou I’m so sorry,” Rindou struggles to a seated position. “Sorry, sorry, sorry-” Sanzu snorts.
“Nah,” He grins, his scars rippling around his mouth. “Nah, C’mon, get up Rin.”
“Fuck off.” Rindou snarls, pushing to his feet. “I was going easy on you.”
“I, I know,” you stammer, “I’m, I’m sure, I’m sorry, I-”
“Stop apologizing.” Mikey snaps, and your mouth shuts. “Like this.” Mikey adjusts your stance. “Rindou, back off.”
“I can-” Rindou starts and Mikey scowls. Rindou matches his expression but flashes his palms and steps away.
“You won’t be able to hit me,” Mikey says quietly. “Let’s try this.” He moves in front of you on the mat, and sees your hands shaking. “You won’t, you won’t be able to.” You nod, still unsure. You take a deep breath, and Rindou and Sanzu watch, equally trepidatious.
“Ran’s gonna blow his lid if anyone lays a hand on her,” Rindou mutters. “Even if it’s Mikey.”
“He didn’t say shit to me,” Sanzu says, smirking, and Rindou’s fist clenches in his pocket. “Course, how could he? And he won’t say shit to Mikey either.” Rindou rubs his sore jaw. “Because he knows his place, and you do too.” Rindou doesn’t respond, watching the way you square your hips, leaning onto your heels.
“Hit me,” Mikey says quietly. “Go ahead.” You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and instinct overtakes you once more, you reach one hand out like lightning, and for a millisecond Mikey’s not sure if he’ll be able to block it, for a fraction of a breath he wonders if he’ll let you hit him, wonders if he wants to feel the pain you could cause him before he knocks your hand away effortlessly. Your jaw sets, you knew it, knew you couldn’t be that good. “Interesting.” He says softly, glancing at Sanzu across the room, and you see the scarred man break into a wide smile, blue eyes practically glowing in the shadow of his brow. “Again,” Mikey says, and the two of you square up, sparring for the better part of an hour, before your chest is heaving and your thighs start to ache. He seems unphased, if you didn’t know better you’d swear the corners of his mouth turn up in almost, amusement. Rindou takes his phone out.
Rindou: your bitch packs a punch
Ran: not my sweet little baby
Rindou: your sweet little baby practically dislocated my jaw Ran: LMFAO NO FUCKEN WAY
Ran: god thats hot
Rindou: yeah well you know who else thinks its hot? Mikey.
Ran: ….
Rindou: they’ve been sparring for almost an hour, she looks like she’s about to collapse.
Ran: well fucking say something she’s still recovering Ran: or should I come down there, if you can’t handle it? Rindou: I can! I can handle it. It’s not about what I can handle.
Ran: if Mikey wants her he’ll take her and then lose her like he loses his keys. She’ll be back in my bed in a week, I’m not concerned.
Ran: she knows what’s good for her.
Rindou: She asked me on the way over here when she can see her brother
Ran: shit yeah
Ran: I wanna take her but Mikey doesn’t want any of us leaving town.
Rindou: can you send her with Isami and Yuuta?
Ran: yeah if I wanted them both dead lmfao i could do that
Ran: she’ll wait. I’ve got a surprise for her, anyway. She’s gonna be tired yeah?
Rindou: If she doesn’t sleep the whole way home I’ll be shocked.
Ran: that’s a good girl.
While everyone showers up, Sanzu takes out his phone, standing in just a white fluffy towel in the mens locker room. Sanzu: yo hakkai
unknown number: what the hell do you want
unknown number: I thought I told you if I ever saw you again you'd be dead.
sanzu: I need a favor
unknown number: fuck straight off
sanzu: better turn that frown upside down
sanzu: unless you want everyone to know what I know.
warnings/tags: minors DNI, f. reader, DUB-CON, age gap (10 years), underage (for a time), unreliable narrator, depressed!reader but we never address it, oblivious!reader, naive!reader, icky!Gojo, freak!Megumi, Royal!AU, ward!reader, adoptive father!Suguru, pseudo-incestuous vibes, obsessive!Gojo, obsessive!Megumi, sexual deviancy, hinted somnophilia, isolation, murder, forced intimacy, these tags are not exhaustive. word count: tba summary: In the ten years you've been married to Gojo Satoru, you can count on one hand how many times you've seen him. With the end of the war, your dear husband has made his way back to your side, intent on winning your affections. Well, winning them is a formality. You're his wife. There's not much you can do to escape your fate.
if all goes well, the chapters should be relatively short (~500 - 2.5k words) and not necessarily in chronological order (this is subject to change bc...I am not a good planner lmfao). it's an AU that has been heavy on my mind <3
I
II
III
IV
V
divider by @/saradika
lim·er·ence
noun
the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.
ONE SHOT
summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ exes au | Y2K | grunge┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
warnings: TBD. angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26]
COMING SOON
[ song inspo : do I wanna know — arctic monkeys {crawling back to you, ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?}]
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
…
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog g @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover r @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling
everything matters… Aurora
natures joint… (((O)))
mans world… Marina
everybody wants to rule the world… Lorde
crossfire… Stephen
playing with fire… Sam Tinnesz
the fruits… Paris Paloma
walk through the fire… Zayde Wolfe
ivy… Taylor Swift
lover. fighter… SVIRCINA
shum… Go_A
churchyard… Aurora
which witch… Florence + The Machine
in flames… Digital Daggers
labor… Paris Paloma
run boy run… Woodkid
spectrum… Florence + The Machine
too far gone… Hidden Citizens
seven devils… Florence + The Machine
towards the sun… Rihanna
artemis… Lindsey Stirling
carry me… Eurielle
ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.
୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
let’s get one thing straight.
not all daddy’s girls are dumb.
on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.
but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.
perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older half sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.
it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.
and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.
“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked.
it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree.
you were such a good person.
turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…
“can i come?”
with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.”
“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.
rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.”
you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).
however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banger the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with.
instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried.
“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?”
“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips.
megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him.
you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan.
he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice.
fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and longing them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.”
he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too.
you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it?
megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time.
finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”
the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.
the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.
your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress!
the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi.
he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head.
“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.”
like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be.
“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.”
fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?”
“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.”
“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.”
flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips.
“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly.
you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.
everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal.
this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body.
“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“
he lets go of your wrists.
tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twist against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree.
“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.
you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company.
“quite staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…”
he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.”
fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”
it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now.
“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.”
his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.
“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?”
the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.”
heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly.
“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze.
the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.”
you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more.
“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?”
“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.
he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.”
fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing yo i to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.”
he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him.
because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all.
“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.”
the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later.
pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?”
he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease.
they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you.
“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers.
he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.
tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.”
you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.
you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last.
“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs.
a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.
“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.
you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless.
now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today.
your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself. “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.”
his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand.
“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself.
this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?”
you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there.
“fuck…yes.”
“and you won’t touch me?”
“not until i’m satisfied, princess.”
and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs.
“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”
he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.
even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.
“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”
megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.
one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.
each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.
“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.
sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.
“s-shut up.”
“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.”
he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.
you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.”
you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.
you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs.
clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much.
“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?”
nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.
he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi.
your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.
there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb.
“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”
your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.
“f-fuck, g-gumi!”
fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you. “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.”
your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.”
fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.”
the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.
he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you.
“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit.
“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.”
megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response.
“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”
“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”
the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hardly that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.
your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.”
despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.
“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you fish all fucking over me.”
that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.
“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.”
he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.
“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect.
“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.
he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.”
your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?”
“really. if it means that much to you.”
sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chest kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.”
“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?”
“maybe.”
“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest.
you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight.
except this time, you’re not as clueless.
you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
— SERIES MASTERLIST.
PAIRING. aki x bff fem!reader
LENGTH. 46.7k words | coauthor @akitachi
PLAYLIST. nightdrive + sesh
SYNOPSIS. after a string of casual dating mishaps leaves you unsatisfied, you find that the grass is greener in the front seat of your best friend’s car.
GENRE. best friends to lovers, mutual pining bordering mutual obsession (they are down horrendous), catching feelings/getting together, not canon compliant: modern/no-devil/post-college!au
SERIES WARNINGS. heavy adult content. this series is not suitable for minors. refer to all individual chapter warnings.
CHAPTER INDEX
join the series taglist to be notified when the series is complete series completed 13/11/22 <3
01 | genesis (5.5k words)
SUMMARY. stood up by your date at the last minute, you end up on a long, aimless drive with your best friend instead.
02 | elements (11.7k words)
SUMMARY. smoking at midnight beside the lake, with the heavy rains of a summertime thunderstorm pelting the windows of aki’s car, he ruminates over the past, and you grasp at the future.
03 | blue dream (29.5k words)
SUMMARY. reciprocated feelings come to a sudden head in a dizzying haze of frustration and desire.
view asks / discussion relating to this series here [ contains spoilers ]
tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, established relationship, pro soccer player kunigami, closet sex, fingering, making out, penetrative and oral sex hinted, jealousy and possessive themes, mention of unwanted flirting and physical touch - let me know if i missed something !
synopsis: what is kunigmai rensuke’s is kunigami rensuke’s, and nothing will change that even your stupid co-worker who can’t keep his hands to himself.
If Kunigami had it his way, he’d make it so you would never have to lift a finger. He’s overpaid doing what he lives for - going pro was everything he wanted, and it soothes an ugly green part of himself that knows he can provide for you. But you are too kind for that kind of life, you still try to pay for things despite how he always pre-pays for dinners or straight up takes your cards out of your wallet when you go out shopping. You work a normal job, something usual and consistent. You like it that way and he tries to respect that very much.
He thinks he’s done an excellent job of it until you bring him to a corporate party and all that goes out the window. It starts normally enough, you show him around your office and it makes him smile that you have a framed jersey with his number on it, a poster of his team, and a framed photo of him holding you at a championship game - the first one of his pro career. It’s sweet, it fills him with such pride to know you carry him with you each day you clock into the office. He meets your co-workers - most are older than you as you are one of the newer hires and they all gawk over him with wide eyes and gasping lips.
Keep reading
Hi guys!
Hope you are all doing well, I have a really good feeling for October and I hope you do too :)
I recently made a Patreon and it's under review, once it gets approved I can officially post my teirs.
Right now here is what I am thinking;
$10 USD for Beta reading + Early Access
$5 USD for Early Access
So beta reading entails access to my works in progress, and you get to help me! I often need ppl to bounce ideas off of, as well as just overall another set of eyes to catch grammatical errors and so on. Right now I'm leaning towards just giving these people commenting abilities on my WIP, as well as starting a little discord chat for brainstorming!
Early access is for when the chapter is completed and fully beta-read. Before I upload it on Tumblr, you will have access to the chapter a full two weeks before it's uploaded on here. Also, I'm thinking of adding some scenes just for the early-access people. Most likely smut, but I don't know that yet as I go where the story takes me lol.
Okay, onto what you've all been waiting for... The Unsaid Vow
I currently have 4.7k down for the first part, so this would be the perfect time to get some beta readers on the doc. And then yes, when it's fully finished, I'd like to provide early access.
Then maybe next month (since teirs are billed monthly), I will do the same for These Things Take Time or Quarter Quell or even Unsaid Vow again, depending on what my patrons want.
So if this is something you'd be interested in, please stay tuned~
pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader
word count: 2.2k
warnings: stuckage kink, reader gets stuck in a window & it has nothing to do with weight or size or whatever and everything to do with Kats being unable to help himself when you find yourself trapped, praise kink, mild degradation, light teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism sorta, daddy kink, nicknames used: princess, baby, & sweetheart, uhh if I missed any lemme know politely pls <3
notes: so..yeah. here’s another Kinktober post. even though it’s August lmao. maybe I’ll finish these by November ajdhdhs I’m sorry. these are all literally sitting in my drafts fully formatted, so I'm not changing them 😂
“Hey, babe?” You call in your sweetest voice to Katsuki, who is not-so-patiently waiting for you to retrieve the set of keys that you were so sure were right here in your bag.
“Yes, baby?” His tone borders on mocking as he stands there with his arms crossed, leaning against the car that he was hoping would’ve been open by now.
“What would you say if—hypothetically—the keys weren’t in my bag aaand I already locked the door on the way outta the house?”
“I would say that’d probably make you look like a pretty big asshole, considering that you swore they were in your bag. Hypothetically,” he adds with a shrug.
“Yeah..s’pose it would, huh?” You frown and stick your bottom lip out in a pout to answer the heavy sigh that falls from your lover’s lips.
“You’re not allowed to be in charge of the keys anymore,” he grumbles while strolling back over towards the door to lift up the plant where your spare key should be, but it isn’t there.
“We, uh..took that in to make an extra copy to give to your parents,” you gently remind him, physically feeling the frustration radiating off of Katsuki.
He closes his eyes and splays his hand over his face to pinch his temples, dragging his digits together as he rubs them over his eyes.
“And both of those keys are still sitting on my fuckin’ desk where I left ‘em.” He heaves a sigh and looks at you, shrugging against as his hands settle on his hips. “Whaddya wanna do? Should we call a locksmith?”
“Is this all it takes to put you in full blown dad mode?” You giggle, unable to help yourself as you take in his stance and all too serious demeanor, not that your boyfriend was much of the carefree type anyway. He narrows his eyes, rolling them while his mouth moves in a mocking gesture.
“It’s daddy to you, princess,” he teases, not-so-lightly swatting your behind and making you yelp as he strolls past you and starts walking around to the side of the house.
“Hey, wait! Where ya goin’?” You call after him as you scurry along.
“M’gonna check the back door. Maybe we left it open,” he explains with a shrug. It was doubtful, but worth a shot.
“Fuck,” he curses, trying the obviously locked back door one more time like it might make a difference. It doesn’t. He tousles his hair and goes to head back to the front of the house. “Locksmith it is, I guess.”
“Wait!” You bounce a little on your feet and he turns around to hear your bright idea. “What about a window? I bet the one in the kitchen is still unlocked. I can climb through it.”
“That could work.” He nods and pivots to head further into the backyard, making his way over to the aforementioned window with you on his heels.
He grabs the bottom and lifts up and, much to his relief, you were right about it being unlocked. He pushes the window up plenty high enough for you to crawl through and onto the counter that sits below it inside.
“Alright, c’mere, baby.” He curls his fingers, gesturing for you to come closer before he bends his knee and taps the outside of his thigh. “Grab the sill and step on my leg. I’ll help boost you up.”
You nod and step in front of the window, placing both hands on the windowsill and putting your foot up on his knee to help propel yourself up and through the window. Everything’s going according to plan. Until you lose your footing on his leg trying to give yourself enough of a push to crawl through. That awful feeling of falling washes over you for half a second before his strong hands find your hips, keeping you from falling backwards onto your ass when your feet touch the ground again.
“Motherfucker,” you sigh, closing your eyes as you take a moment and a breath to collect yourself. “Okay, let—ahh!”
You’re cut off by the sound of the window closing. Again, thanks to his heroic reflexes and reaction time, you’re spared from injury as he catches the window before it hits you. You breathe a massive sigh of relief, practically wilting in the window, which now you can no longer simply slip back out of.
“Babe, can you lift it back up, please?”
“I’m trying,” he mutters.
“What?”
“I said I’m trying,” he repeats, sounding frustrated, though you know it isn’t aimed at you. It’s aimed at the window that suddenly won’t budge an inch. “Damn thing’s fuckin’ jammed,” he gripes, heaving a sigh before his hands are on you, soothingly rubbing your back. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you reassure him. “I’m fine I just,” you sigh. “Don’t know what to do now. Who the hell do we call for this? I’m not letting the fire department find me this way,” you state as you shake your head and briefly imagine what an interesting interaction that might make for.
“I’m not either,” he scoffs, his eyes being drawn to your backside, which he had to admit looked especially great with you in this position.
“Try opening it again. Maybe you loosened it,” you suggest, turning your head to try and look over your shoulder at him, but the angle is rather awkward with how you’re trapped.
He tilts his head thoughtfully. It couldn’t hurt to try, but it certainly felt pretty well stuck. He leans over you and places his hands beneath the window again, trying in vain to lift it while his crotch presses right up against your backside.
“Are you really getting hard right now?” You can’t help but giggle, wiggling your ass against the bulge that you can feel growing in his pants.
“You’re bent over in front of me,” he mutters, grunting as he attempts again to shove the window upwards. “And looking pretty vulnerable, I might point out,” he adds with a smirk as he relents his attempts and instead runs his hands along your sides. “How the fuck am I not s’posed to be hard right now?”
His hands seize your hips, bringing you flush against him while he grinds his hips forward, You close your eyes and let out a quiet groan, feeling a pulse between your thighs.
“You wouldn’t take advantage of me in a position like this, would you?” You ask in a sultry tone, no doubt implying that you sincerely hoped that he just might.
“I wouldn’t say that, princess. You know how much I like seizing opportunities and this one seems too good to pass up.”
“Katsuki,” you whine his name, knowing full well that it makes all the blood in his body redirect to his dick.
“Fuck, baby,” he gruffs, already feeling his breathing shallow from the pure sense of need that you can still feel pressing into your backside. “You want it that bad, huh? Want me to take you just like this, where any of our nosy fuckin’ neighbors could peek over and see me drillin’ ya?”
“Yes, baby. Don’t just want it. I need it, daddy. Please,” you insist, writhing as much as you can in your compromised position.
“Shit,” he huffs the curse as he bunches your dress up over your hips, only pulling his hips away from your to appreciate the view.
He hooks a finger underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs, letting it snap back against your skin while his other palm takes a greedy handful of your ass.
“Still can’t fuckin’ believe someone as hot as you puts up with me,” he snorts, delivering a swift smack to your cheek before he soothes the ache with his palm.
“I could say the same,” you reply, shaking your ass and grinning when you hear him groan at the sight, but you’re growing impatient, so you poke at him a little. “Have you even got your dick out yet? I want you so bad, baby..”
“Patience, princess. M’gonna take care of ya. Lemme just look at’cha for a second, yeah?” Both of his hands grope your behind before he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your panties and pulls them aside. “Wanna appreciate all this before I ruin ya.”
His thumb parts your folds and you shiver, juices gushing onto his digit as he snickers.
“That worked up already, huh? Guess ya really do need me.”
You don’t need to see him to know he’s wearing his signature smug grin. His thumb finds your clit and he begins drawing it in slow circles, making you clutch to the wall inside the house.
“I do, I do. Please, daddy,” you whine, rocking your hips to chase the friction he offers you.
It’s gone a second later, but you hear the jingle of his belt coming undone and clench in anticipation while he frees his leaking cock.
“All this beggin’ sounds real good, baby. Gimme a little more and then you can have this,” he promises, letting you feel his rock hard erection as the head teases through your lips.
“Please,” you blurt the plea out, instantly complying in order to get what you need. What you crave. “I’ll do anything, baby. Want you inside me. Need you to fuck me. Want you to ruin me, daddy. Take this pussy. S’all yours. Always all yours.”
“Such an overachiever. S’what I love about you, princess,” he chuckles, giving you no notice before he lines up and bottoms out in a single thrust, stuffing you full with his impressive length.
“Fuck!”
You claw at the drywall beneath your fingers, pressing your hands to the surface to hang on as he begins to thrust, showing little mercy to your drooling cunt.
“Goddamn you feel good. You’re really into this, aren’tcha? Like being stuck and lettin’ me use your pussy like I wanna?”
“Y-yeah. Oh fuck, yeah, daddy. U-use me. Oh my God, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”
You’re babbling now, too far gone already with the way his cock moves inside you, deliciously dragging along your walls as the tip finds that special, velvety spot inside you and starts knocking into it over and over and over again.
“M’not gonna stop, sweetheart. Not ‘til you’re creamin’ on my cock. You ain’t gonna last long, are ya? Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight already. Shit.”
“Mm-mm. N-no. Feels too—haa—s’too good, baby.”
And he’s right, of course. That white hot heat burns in your belly, searing you from the inside out as it builds and spreads, spiraling out of control as he continues to snap his hips, offering you no mercy now as you rocket towards your orgasm.
It hits you like a freight train, making you scream as you slump over the sill of the window, simply trying to hang onto the structure as your cries echo around the empty kitchen. You don’t even notice the way that the window seems heavier on your spine now.
“Good girl,” he grunts, breathing labored from his efforts as he keeps it up, sprinting towards his own undoing. “So fuckin’ good. Pussy’s too fuckin’ good, baby.”
He doesn’t even falter when he finds his release. If anything, he moves faster, willfully pummeling your poor, abused cunt as he fills you to the brim until the mixture of your essences begin to seep out as your own name falls from his lips, ringing in your ears through the haze you find yourself floating through. He looks down, entranced by the vision of his cum being pulled from and pushed inside of your again and again.
“Fuck,” he pants, sweat dripping from his brow and landing on your exposed lower back. He watches the bead trail along your heated skin to mingle with the rest of the fluids joined between your bodies.
A whimper is all that you can manage as he withdraws himself and leans over you, a decisively more gentle touch skimming along your sides before he begins rubbing your back and feathering kisses along your spine.
“You okay, baby?” His tone is as soft as his touch as he restores your modesty, dipping down to return your panties to their rightful place before he reaches for the hem your dress and pulls it back down.
“Mhm,’ you hum, blissfully content as you continue coming down from your soaring high.
“Good.” He continues rubbing your back, working up to your shoulders when his hand nudges the window and he realizes that it’s finally budged. “Well, shit,” he chuckles, reaching over you to lift the window up, freeing you from your entrapment.
“Hmm?” You feel the pressure lift off of your back and step back from the window, shaking your head as a smile graces your features. “Well, I guess that works out.”
“Think you still have the strength to crawl through?” He grins, a little smug and a lot handsome as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he rubs your arm.
“Gimme a minute.” You laugh quietly, closing your eyes as you wind your arms around his and rest your head upon his broad chest, nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt to inhale his cologne.
“Take all the time you need, princess. I’m good right here,” he murmurs into your hair as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
likes, comments, & reblogs especially are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3
i feel like i have mentioned the possibility of giving y'all an erejean threesome way too many times to keep holding out on you, so now that i've finally nitpicked this fic to death, here we are!! literally living my dreams vicariously through this fic. i'm still not 100% happy with it, but eren and jean are sexy here and are doing half of the work of making this worth the read for me lolol. it's also written mostly through jean's pov which was interesting to play with.
pairing: eren jaeger x reader x jean kirschstein
wc: 6.5k
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, threesome, established relationship (eren's ur perfect bf and u guys can't stop having sex with jean lol), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, anal (fingering and fucking), swearing, use of names (slut, brat, pretty girl, good girl, angel), mean dom eren vs soft dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie, double penetration, bicurious jean and bicurious eren (tasty, they definitely don't keep their hands to themselves), polyamory implied
buckle up, this was a blast to write and i hope it's equally as fun to read. enjoy <33
-
Jean should definitely not be here.
He should absolutely not be on his living room couch with Eren Jaeger’s girlfriend’s head in his lap, playing idly with her hair. By all traditional conventions and rules of exclusive relationships, Jean’s fairly sure that letting your girlfriend rest her head on the crotch of your roommate while he strokes her hair is on the no-no list. Not for Eren, apparently, who has your feet in his lap on the other end of the couch, playing with your toes absentmindedly and making you giggle and kick him in protest. Jean should not be here, but you and Eren have made a habit of roping him into circumstances that he would never admit to, not even at gunpoint.
If Jean is brutally, painfully honest with himself, he knows he had gotten himself into this. You were just so cute, wisping around their apartment in a big tshirt and tiny shorts in the mornings, always making sure to save him a cup of coffee. Maybe he had let his lingering glances linger just a little too long, smirked over his coffee mug at you one too many times, come up behind you to help you reach something on the top shelf and leaned a little too close, Jean couldn’t pinpoint exactly what caused Eren to notice his clear attraction towards you, but he did. Instead of getting his ass kicked like he had expected when you and Eren sat down to confront him, Jean had learned something.
Eren Jaeger has a greedy, spoiled brat of a girlfriend.
That had been the first time Jean came in you, fucking into your throat while Eren watched from across the room, palming over the bulge in his jeans. The second time, the two of you had invited Jean out for a drink, which, in hindsight, he should have seen the ulterior motive from a mile away. He had ended up cumming in your pussy, bending you over in the bar bathroom with Eren’s cock in your mouth. The third time had been in Eren’s bedroom as you rode him, Eren sitting behind you and working your hips over Jean’s cock as you wailed.
Jean had stopped his ministrations in your hair as he was reflecting on how exactly he got into this situation, trying very hard not to think too far into the filthy details to prevent propping your head up with an erection. You make a little noise of discontent, grabbing at his hands and urging them back to your hair.
“Jean, don’t stop. Feels good.”
Jean’s mouth tightens into a thin line at your choice of words, words he’s heard from you before under very different circumstances, but he obliges. So much for self control. Eren raises a smug eyebrow at him from across the couch.
“You’re giving her what she wants, right, Kirschtein?”
Jesus, you two are insatiable, still managing to grate on Jean’s razor-thin willpower with all of your clothes on. Jean wonders briefly what the appeal is for Eren, if he gets off on watching you take another man’s cock, bring another man near to tears with your warm, silken cunt. Does Eren enjoy dangling you in front of Jean until he’s forced to give in? Eren’s gaze lingers on Jean’s hands, threading through your hair, awaiting an answer.
“Yeah,” Jean says, not trusting any more words to his loose lips. They’ve already betrayed him three times now, saying yes when they should have been saying no.
“Good,” Eren responds simply, offering a small smile that, to anyone else, looks innocent. Jean knows Eren better than that. He watches as Eren’s hand travels up your bare leg, coming to rest on your upper thigh. You’re affected by it, such a simple touch, such a sensitive little body; he can feel you tense over his thighs.
Jean steels his jaw and forces his eyes back over to the movie. He’s got to stop playing these fucked up games of yours, it’s bad for him and he knows it. He hasn’t dated in months, not since you’d first pulled him into your little world, can’t bring himself to look at anyone else, can’t stand the thought of feeling anyone else’s skin under his fingers. His little crush has bloomed into full-blown lovesickness, and it would be best for him if he just stopped.
All of that ironclad willpower melts away in an instant when you let out a little moan.
Eren’s hand has snuck its way up to your shorts, nudging at the apex of your thighs. His focus is still trained on whatever reality show you’ve put on, completely ignoring the way you sigh under his touch. Jean’s cock twitches in his pants; this is his opportunity to hesitate, to say no, but he stays silent, only watching as you squirm in his lap.
“Eren,” your chastisement comes out as a breath. One of your hands comes to meet Eren’s, trying to push him away, but he simply swats your hand, shooting you a stern look.
“Behave,” Eren warns, eyes dark and dangerous. Jean’s learned that Eren’s mean to you, snappy when you put on your little attitude and fight back, but Jean doesn’t have the willpower. He holds you gently while he fucks into you hard, gives you anything you ask for.
You bite your lip and turn your head back to the TV, one hand coming up to pull Jean’s away from your head, wrapping your fingers around his. Jean’s breath hitches in his throat when you squeeze tight, back arching like you’re holding back a moan; Eren’s worked his way into your panties now, rubbing little circles over your clit.
“Look, Jaeger,” Jean makes a half-hearted attempt to remove himself, pulling his hand from yours and making all the movements to suggest he’s going to stand up, “I should–”
“What?” Eren cocks his head, as casual as if they’re discussing the weather. “Look at her, you really gonna just leave her there like that while I’m teasing her?”
Against his better judgment, Jean flicks his eyes down towards you. It’s a pitiful sight, your eyes already glossed over and staring up at him, wide and pleading, your bottom lip tucked in tight between your teeth.
“Jean,” his name comes out of your mouth, broken and already heady with arousal. That’s what snaps his resolve clean in two. You need him.
“What is it?” Jean hates the fondness in his voice, so glaringly obvious in front of your fucking boyfriend. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, though; he picks up speed, making you wriggle impatiently.
“Wanna kiss,” you whimper, reaching up towards his face.
“Don’t,” Eren stops Jean from leaning down, “she’s been bad today.”
“Is that so?” Jean rubs a thumb over your lips, frowning down at you. He can see the guilt in the way your brows knit together; oh, you have been bad, and you know it.
“Wouldn’t stop begging me for you, wanted to snuggle with Jeanie,” Eren raises his voice to mock you, slapping a hand against your clit and making you jump.
Jean’s face burns; is this it? Is this finally Eren telling him that you’re off-limits, finally deciding that Jean’s had his fill? And he’s going to rub it in his face by torturing you on Jean’s lap?
“Tell him,” Eren demands, another sharp smack landing on your cunt.
“Didn’t want to wait t-til you got home,” your face is already blotchy, eyes clouded with shame, “wanted Eren to text you and make you leave work.”
“And what did I say?”
“Be patient,” your voice wavers, Jean’s heart pounds in his ears, “and Jean would come take care of me.”
“So needy,” Eren tuts down at you, cruelly shoving a finger into your wet heat and instantly removing it, drawing a breathy whine from you, “see?”
Eren’s offering his finger to Jean, shining with slick, eyebrows lifted insistently. Jean narrows his eyes, cocks his head. What game is he playing at?
“What, don’t want a taste?” Eren’s eyes glint in the low light, taunting him. Jean leans forward hesitantly, lets the other man slide a thick finger between his lips. You always taste so good, salty and tangy; Jean feels a groan rumble deep in his chest. The corner of Eren’s mouth curls ever so slightly. Whatever game he’s playing, Jean’s losing. “Touch her, but no kisses. She has to behave if she wants that.”
You pout, bottom lip still wobbling where you’ve pushed it out, but you arch your back a little, straining your tits against your tank top. Jean knows you well enough by now, knows you chose that thin little top and didn’t wear a bra just for him, just to tempt him. You have been bad, but Jean doesn’t care, could never care when you’re looking up at him all sweet and needy. But he knows better than to disobey Eren’s rules, for your sake. Eren will edge you for the rest of the night, make himself cum, and leave you out to dry.
“Jean, please–”
“Sh,” Jean shushes you, sits you up just a little so he can pull your tank top over your head, “I’ve gotcha. Just be good for us, alright?”
You nod and smile drunkenly as he cups your breasts, kneading your nipples between his fingers. They’re one of his favorite things about you; he can’t resist leaning down to place sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your hot skin, lick around your nipples just light enough to tease. Maybe Jean can be a little mean too.
“More,” you gasp, fingers coming to clutch at his head, “more, I– oh!”
Jean’s eyes flit down your body to see Eren’s now got two long fingers shoved knuckle-deep in you, curling them fast enough to make you cry out, roll your hips up towards him. If he looks closely, he can see a wet patch forming on the crotch of your shorts; it makes his cock throb. He’s never met a woman that gets as wet as you, filthy at the slightest touch.
“You’re so messy,” Jean voices his mind without exactly meaning to, pulling himself from you so he can prop you up against his chest and let you look at the mess you’ve made. You give him a little whine of protest, tilting your chin up towards him, searching for his mouth.
“Please, I want–”
“I know what you want,” Jean thumbs at your lip, “he’s mean, isn’t he? Making you behave yourself when all you want is a little love, isn’t that right?”
“Mhm,” you manage to shoot a scathing glare at Eren that makes Jean chuckle, makes Eren smack your thigh hard enough to echo throughout the room.
“Stupid little slut,” Eren growls, moving his fingers faster, “you’re just all about Jean because he spoils you, aren't you? Someone has to make sure you behave yourself.”
Jean’s eyes widen; Eren’s clearly in a mood today, and Jean hopes it doesn’t have anything to do with his presence. Eren’s a mixed bag most times. Jean’s overheard him making soft, quiet love to you, little praises slipping out from the crack in his bedroom door, but Jean’s also watched Eren edge you to the point of tears, spit on your cunt, spank you until you bruise. Maybe Eren’s jealousy finally is getting the better of him, Jean thinks, maybe he just can’t say no to your insatiable appetite, and he is actually pissed that you had begged him for Jean.
“Jean,” you’re clutching at his shirt, moaning pathetically as Eren sucks harsh bites into your thighs.
“Did it to yourself,” Jean shakes his head at you sadly, “you know better than to make him mad.”
“Shut her up,” Eren nods his head at your mouth meaningfully, “I’ve heard enough out of her for today.”
It takes some awkward repositioning, but Jean’s able to pull his cock out, tap it against your tongue where you’ve already got your mouth hanging open, drool pooling on his lap under your cheek.You shove yourself up with some effort, and take Jean almost to the hilt on your first go, slurping lewdly around him. Jean nearly chokes.
“Oh, you are needy today,” he hisses, threading his fingers through your hair, making sure his view remains unobstructed. “That what you wanted? My cock in your throat?”
You manage a stiff nod around him in between the muffled moans you’re letting out around his cock; Eren’s added his thumb to the mix now, pulling your panties to the side so he can swipe at your clit.
“She was fuckin’ drooling for it earlier,” Eren says, meeting Jean’s eyes with a smirk, “should have seen her, all pouty and sad because her Jeanie wasn’t here. Pathetic.”
In the small part of Jean’s brain that’s still able to think rationally with his cock nudging at your gag reflex, he’s frowning in confusion. Eren is pissed at you because you were begging for Jean, and here he is spurring Jean on in fucking into your throat. It makes no fucking sense, really, but Jean’s getting his dick sucked, and not for the first time, by the woman he’s been pining after for months, so who is he to question it?
“Mmph!” You squeal, mouth too full to form a real sound, hips canting up violently towards Eren. Eren laughs, low and cruel.
“Aw, I think she’s gonna cum soon,” Eren pulls his fingers from you, a tear slips down your cheek. “Pity.”
Your cry of protest is whimpered by Jean standing up slightly, angling his hips to plunge as deep as he can. He’s only had his cock in your mouth a few times, but Jean’s intuitive. He knows how much you can take, knows exactly how far to push you before it’s too much.
“Don’t whine, baby,” Jean huffs, “just gonna make him more mad. He won’t let me help you if you don’t behave.”
“Look at you,” Eren runs his hands along your thighs, leans down to press a chaste kiss over where you’ve ruined your shorts, “being a good girl for us. S’that what it takes for you to behave? Need both of us?”
If Jean’s not mistaken, the garbled sound you make around him is one of agreement. The thought goes straight between his legs, brings him far closer to the edge than he’d like to be at this point. He pulls your mouth off of him, making you pout.
“But–”
“I know, I know, you want it,” Jean rubs an affectionate thumb over your cheek, “but you want me to fuck you, too, right?”
“Please,” you breathe, reaching down to wiggle your shorts off. Eren’s face lights up.
“Wanna show him your little surprise, baby?” Eren’s tugging at your shorts now, ripping them off and tossing them to the sides. He puts his hands under your arms, yanking you out of Jean’s lap and throwing your chest over his shoulders. When Eren’s hands come to your cheeks, spreading them so Jean can see, Jean’s heart nearly stops. There’s a little pink rhinestone glittering where your asshole should be– a plug, keeping you open and ready. Eren meets Jean’s eyes, daring. “She picked it out just for us. Want us both, don’t you? Nasty little thing.”
Eren punctuates his statement with a grin and a sharp slap to your ass that makes you jump, nod desperately from behind him. Jean reaches a cautious hand over, puts two fingers around the toy and pulls lightly, just enough to watch it move in you. You whine; he can see your empty cunt flutter.
“Can she take it? Both of us?”
“Oh yeah,” Eren brushes off Jean’s concern, “been using all her little toys for weeks, making me practice with her. She can take it.”
With that, Jean’s standing, padding into his room and knowing Eren’s following with you still tossed over his shoulder. His head spins; you, his precious little toy, have been stretching yourself out, getting yourself ready to have two cocks in you? The thought nearly makes Jean moan to himself, imagining how tight you’ll be all stuffed full.
Eren’s thrown you on the bed none too gently, stripping as you look up at him, hearts in your eyes. He stops midway through pulling his clothes off to grab your chin, offer your pleading gaze to Jean.
“Why don’t you ask him, hm?” Eren coos, looking between you and Jean with a filthy grin on his face. “Ask him again, see if you’ve been good.”
“Will you kiss me, Jean? Please?” Your voice has that thin, fucked out tone to it that drives Jean crazy, makes him want to make you cry.
“Yeah princess, I’ll kiss you.” He leans down, takes your soft mouth in his, Eren never releasing his hold on your chin. Jean can taste himself on your tongue, smiling appreciatively at the salty tang. Eren rips you away far too soon, pressing his mouth down on you far rougher than Jean had. They balance each other well, Jean thinks, the gentle caresses and the sharp slaps that make you come undone under them in a way neither of them can manage alone.
“On your knees, brat,” Eren sneers, the shred of tenderness that he’d grabbed your face with long-gone, “convince us to fuck you stupid.”
You nod obediently, sliding off the bed and onto your knees, reaching for Jean. He steps forward, letting you hold his cock in your little hand, rub up and down while you take Eren in your mouth. Even your hands are enough to drive him crazy, so soft and supple around him; Jean’s head falls back.
“Fuck,” Eren sucks a sharp breath in between his teeth, “that’s it, baby, take it.”
Something possesses Jean, what it is he can’t be sure, but he reaches a hand down to the back of your head, pushing you further down Eren’s length. He half-expects Eren to chastise him for it, but Eren groans, long and loud, a sound that simmers in Jean’s stomach.
Jean watches the contractions of Eren’s abs, trails his eyes up to where the other man’s strong chest is heaving, a strange, hot sensation trickling through his center. It’s too late to look away once he realizes he’s been caught, but instead of finding amusement when he meets Eren’s eyes, Jean finds something else entirely.
Eren’s looking at Jean the way he looks at you, all lusty and uninhibited. Jean nearly scowls at him, everything he’s internalized over the years rearing its head in his chest, but Eren stops him with a hand wrapped around the back of Jean’s neck. In the blink of an eye, there’s a set of lips on his, a sharp tongue licking into his mouth.
Jean lets out a wanton, strung out moan that Eren swallows, echoes with one of his own. Jean notices that your head has stilled under his hand, and he shoves you back onto Eren’s cock mindlessly, relishing in the way Eren’s mouth stutters against his own when you retch around him. He trails his hand, tentative and exploratory, up to Eren’s hair, grabs the bun at the back of his head and pulls. Jean’s surprised at the heat beneath his palm; he’s always known Eren runs hot, especially after the last few times he’s fucked you. It’s only natural to brush arms, brush legs during the act, but Eren’s skin is scalding, damp with sweat under his touch.
It’s not Jean’s first kiss with a man, not by any means, but he’d never guessed that Eren, headstrong, manly, unreadable Eren, had this in him. Had it been hiding there for all of these years? Was it a spur of the moment thing, that Eren would look back on and cringe at later?
Doubt getting the better of him, Jean breaks first, pulls away with a quiet smacking sound. Eren’s eyes are just as wide as his feel, searching Jean’s face for any sign of regret, of satisfaction, of something. A loud whine from below distracts them both, and whatever odd moment was forming is broken as they look down at you.
Your chin is covered in drool from where you’ve been choking on Eren, gagging around him, and your eyes are glossy and needy. Jean’s cock gets impossibly harder.
“What?” Eren taunts. “You jealous that I kissed your Jeanie?”
“Yeah,” you pout, brows knitting, but Jean can see the arousal written into your features. You liked it.
“Get up,” Jean says to you, voice hard and unforgiving.
You follow his instruction, standing on shaking legs. Jean can see the snark in your eyes before it comes out of your lips. “What, finally going to pay attention to me now?”
As soon as the words have left your mouth, Eren’s hand is around your jaw, wrenching it open for him to spit into your mouth. “Don’t fucking talk back, not if you want to cum.”
“You were doing so good,” Jean rubs a hand over your hip, guiding you to lay on top of him on the bed, “what, are you that desperate for us that you can’t mind your manners?”
“I just–”
“Want both of your slutty little holes filled?” Eren scoffs, kneeling on the bed behind where you’re straddling Jean’s hips. “Yeah, we know.”
You frown and lean down to Jean, searching for consolation, but he shoves you to sit back up, admiring the way your chest bounces with the movement.
“Can’t be nice to you all the time,” Jean’s voice is low, dangerous, “not when you act like a brat.”
He can see the heartbreak on your face, revels in it, but it’s short lived. Your eyes fly open as Eren works the plug out of you, tossing it to the side and wrapping an arm around you to take your neck in his hand. Eren looks down at Jean, exchanges a conspiratorial smirk with him.
“Why don’t you ask Jean if you can sit on it while I work you open, hm?”
Your eyes glisten pleadingly at Jean, but something’s come over him. He realizes he likes drawing those begging moans out of you, likes holding you over the edge between the tips of his fingers. Jean shrugs.
“Show me how bad you want it.”
While Eren reaches over to scrounge around for the lube in Jean’s bedside table, you start to work your hips over Jean’s cock, slicking it up with how wet you already are. Jean grabs you by the back of the neck, pulls you to him to drink down the little whimpers and moans that escape your lips.
“Jean, please,” you sigh into his mouth, “I need you.”
Jean’s resolve wavers, but he stands firm. “Beg.”
“I–” hot tears of shame are welling in your eyes now, Jean wants to lick them from your cheeks– “please, I need it, need your cock in me, please, Jean.”
“What do you think, Eren?” As Jean asks the question, it strikes him just how often he refers to the other man simply as “Jaeger”, not by his first name. In his mind, ‘Jaeger’ is his friend of many years, and ‘Eren’ is the man that he had just inexplicably, passionately kissed. “Think she’s earned it?”
“Let’s see how she takes my fingers,” Eren replies, slicking his fingers up with lube and forcing two into your already-stretched hole with ease, making you squeak in surprise, “oh fuck, she’s already so stretched out for us. Yeah, give her what she wants, let her warm up to it.”
“Thank you, t-thank you,” you stammer, out of your mind with want as Jean slides the head of his cock into you with a long groan.
“Shit,” Jean growls, holding onto you tight to prevent your hips from pushing down on him too fast, filling you up too quickly with Eren’s fingers hard at work in your other hole. Maybe he is the nice one, after all. “So fucking tight for me, aren’t you?”
“Mhm, for you,” you hum, lip tucked in your teeth.
“Think she likes you more than me,” Eren smirks from over your shoulder, working a third finger into you and making your jaw drop. For his part, Jean bottoms out, hissing as you pulse around him. He can feel Eren’s fingers scissoring through your walls, eyes rolling back into his head at the sensation.
“You okay? Is it too much?” Jean notices one of those tears that had sparkled in your eyes earlier threatening to fall, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him. You look beautiful, all stretched around him and fucked out, mind blank.
“It’s a lot,” you nod, sniffle, “but I’m okay, I can take him. Want to, want– need you both.”
Eren’s eyes darken, and Jean can feel him remove his fingers, feel the accommodating stretch of your walls able to breathe again. Jean takes your hips in his hands, rolling you along his cock to grant both of you some of the friction you desperately need. You mewl, leaning over to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Eren’s lining up behind you, running a soothing hand over your back.
“Deep breaths, baby,” Jean instructs you, holding you to his chest. You sniffle and nod into his shoulder, muscles tense and twitching.
“Tell me if it’s too much, alright angel?” Eren leans over to press a surprisingly tender kiss between your shoulder blades and gives Jean a signaling nod, which Jean returns.
Jean can feel it the moment Eren pushes in, feel your body stretching itself to accommodate both of them. You squeal into the skin of Jean’s shoulder that you’ve taken between your teeth, and it hurts, but he lets you, rubbing circles on your lower back.
“Doing so good for us, baby,” Jean hums, pressing his lips to your ear, “too much?”
You shake your head, whimpering as Eren pushes in further.
“God, she’s– shit, it’s so fucking tight,” Eren growls, jaw clenched and a little vein protruding in his neck from the effort of holding himself back, reining in the part of himself that just wants to snap his hips forwards into you.
“Yeah, she is,” Jean chokes out, feeling suffocated by the way you’re pulsing around him, by the pressure of Eren’s cock shoving at him. He’s not sure where he ends and where the both of you begin, if there’s even any separation between his skin and Eren’s and yours anymore.
“Feel so– full,” you hiccup, nails digging into Jean’s shoulders. Your watery voice makes Eren pause, rub a hand over your back.
“You doing okay, baby? How you feeling?”
“Feels….” you take in a deep, heaving breath, “good. Feels so good.”
Eren grins, something feral. “That’s our girl. So good for us, yeah?”
“You like being full, hm?” Jean can feel a smile mirroring Eren’s on his face.
He doesn’t miss Eren’s choice of words. Our girl. And you are their girl, you love being full of them. Of course you do. You’re their insatiable little plaything, so good at taking them in each of your holes. You love it, you love them.
“It’s– fuck, I’m in,” Eren’s staring at where you’re all connected. Jean wishes he could see, but the tightness of you around him is enough, the way he can feel Eren through your thin walls, pressing against his cock. Eren pumps his hips experimentally, and all three of you moan in sync.
“Pl-please move, Jean, fuck- no, Eren, just–” you’re babbling nonsensically, music to their ears.
“We’ve got you,” Jean hushes you, fucking his hips up into you and cutting you off, “just sit tight and be our good little girl, alright?”
“Oh g-god.” Your words wrench from you in a sob, jolting with the thrust of Jean’s hips up into yours. It takes some work, but soon enough, they’re pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace, synced up so you’re never empty, not for long. You’re wailing, voice scratchy from all the crying you’ve already done that night, clutching onto Jean like he’s your last lifeline.
“Feels so fucking good,” Eren grits out, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “so good for us.”
“Not gonna last long, not like this,” Jean agrees, sitting you up so he can see you, see your wet cheeks and your open mouth, “so pretty like this, aren’t you? All stuffed full?”
“She loves it,” Eren growls over your pathetic, shaky moan of agreement, landing a smack on your ass, “fucking loves us, don’t you baby? Tell us, tell us how much you love it.”
“I-I love it,” you manage, voice wrecked, “love you— fuck- love you both so much.”
Jean’s eyes widen, roll back in his head a little. You’re so perfect, obedient and willing to take both of them, let them abuse your holes. The thought makes him bite down on the inside of his cheek, not willing to be the first to break and ruin this perfect moment.
“Jean, I– shit, I’m gonna cum soon,” Eren pants, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open when he meets Jean’s eyes. “Make her cum.”
Jean nods determinedly, somehow finds the presence of mind to slide a hand in between your slick bodies, swiping at your clit insistently. Your body blooms for him, back arching as you throw your head back against Eren’s shoulder. He feels you clench violently around him, knows you’ve already been on the edge since they started with you, knows you won’t take much goading to break for them.
“That good?” Jean forced out through his clenched jaw, trying to keep pace with Eren amidst your vice-like grip on him.
“Yes, so fucking– oh my god, J-Jean, I’m– Eren,” you’re babbling, close to the point of hysteria, eyes blank and teary. Jean’s free hand wraps around your hip, grabbing hard at the flesh there. He’s so gone he barely catches it, just barely, but he notices Eren’s hand. Eren lays his palm over Jean’s, deliberate and steady, grabbing onto the other man’s hand and squeezing down. Jean meets Eren’s eyes, fucked out and hooded.
“Come on,” Jean rubs faster, harder, his eyes flitting back and forth between yours and Eren’s, “show us what a good fucking girl you are for us.”
Whatever was tethering you to your sanity falls away, and you cum harder than Jean’s ever seen, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your muscles lock up, legs trembling on either side of Jean’s hips. He grips your hip harder, trying to maintain a pace so you can ride your orgasm out on top of them. Eren follows quickly behind you, biting into your shoulder with a loud, long groan. When Jean feels Eren’s cum leaking out of you, feels the mess they’ve made between your legs, he falls over the edge too, slamming your hips down into his and grinding up into you with a moan.
The three of you collapse into a heap of limbs and sweat and stickiness, chests heaving and muscles twitching. Jean can feel the burn of Eren’s skin and the slick, plush give of yours, enveloping him from every angle, and for the first time in months, he lets his eyes flutter shut, letting himself enjoy the simple pleasure of touch.
But nothing is forever, and after a few minutes, he feels you begin to stir between them, mumbling about needing to go to the bathroom. Eren reluctantly rolls off the bed to help you to the bathroom to clean up, leading you out on shaking legs. Alone again, Jean throws his hands over his face and sighs, deep and hefty.
He shouldn’t be here, he should have never let you both goad him into this.
It occurs to Jean that he needs some air; the apartment feels suffocatingly small knowing that both of you are only a few layers of plaster and a door away. He pushes through regret and self-doubt, pulling his sweatpants back on and scrounging around in his laundry basket of unfolded, clean clothes to find a shirt.
“What are you doing?” Eren’s suddenly in the doorway, scowling at him.
“Going out.”
“You worked this morning. What, do you have plans or something?” There’s a clear note of annoyance in Eren’s voice, but Jean’s too exhausted and shaky to look into it.
“Jean?” You, Eren’s shadow as always, peer around his shoulders, a cute little furrow of confusion between your brows. “Where are you going?”
Jean nearly growls in frustration, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Out. I’m going out.”
He hates the way you flinch, grab onto Eren’s hand for stability in the wake of his snapping at you. Eren speaks next, but Jean doesn’t recognize his tone; it’s firm, but somehow, it’s lacking Eren’s perpetually angry intonation.
“Sit.” Eren’s got one finger pointed to the bed, ordering him as if this isn’t Jean’s own room. He drags you over behind him, plopping on the bed as if you all do this every day. Jean glares at Eren, softens his eyes at the way you’re looking up at him invitingly.
“We just want to talk a little,” you pat the comforter, smiling softly. That breaks him, and against Jean’s better judgment, he’s sitting where you’ve indicated, t-shirt still fisted in his hands.
“About?”
“We don’t want you to think– well, this…” Eren gestures his hands between the three of you, frowning deeper, and eventually sighing, “I don’t know how to say it.”
You pick up for Eren, smiling at him. “We don’t want you to feel like you’re out of place here, that’s all.”
Jean cocks an eyebrow. “In my own bedroom?”
“No, asshole,” Eren rolls his eyes, “with…with us.”
“What does that mean?” Jean’s heart nearly stops. A small, soft hand over his makes his breath catch in his throat.
“We’re not, like, experienced with this, so maybe we’re doing this whole thing wrong,” you look to Eren anxiously, who nods at you reassuringly, “but…we have room for you. If you’re open.”
“Like…” Jean barely trusts his voice to carry above a breath, “in what sense?”
“It’s not just sex,” Eren mumbles, flushing pink, “to us, at least.”
“We like you,” you clarify, smiling again, “and however you want us, if you want us, at least, you can have us.”
Jean blinks stupidly, looks to Eren to see if his face betrays anything, anything that could explain the conversation taking place, if it’s a joke, if he’s unsure. To his surprise, Eren looks up at him, green eyes earnest and burning into his, and takes the t-shirt out of Jean’s hands, giving one of Jean’s hands to you and taking the other for himself.
“It works,” Eren says, finding some conviction, “whatever you want to call it, this works.”
“For both of you?” Jean can hardly believe his ears, can hardly fathom the feeling of your soft, delicate little fingers and Eren’s calloused palms wrapped around his hands.
“For both of us. But…does it? For you?” Your voice wavers, your nerves betraying you.
“I mean, I don’t know what it is. I don’t understand it,” Jean admits, positive that his eyes are comically wide in the face of this new information.
“Me neither,” Eren shrugs, “but we don’t have to be so serious about it–”
“Not for now at least,” you smile at Eren encouragingly, nodding and urging him to press on.
“Not for now,” Eren agrees, squeezing Jean’s fingers ever so slightly, the smallest, most tentative reassurance, “we can figure it out later.”
“If you want it,” you bite your lip, looking up at Jean through thick lashes, “want us. We won’t be upset if you say no. No pressure.”
Jean thinks for a moment, thinks about everything you’re offering him. You, who he’s pined after for months, so beautiful and sweet to him. He thinks about sharing coffee with you in the mornings, holding you tight to his body and drifting off to sleep, letting you play with his hair. He doesn’t know if he loves you, but whatever he feels is pretty damn close to it, close enough to drive him crazy and keep him up at night.
And Eren. He’s been friends with Eren for near a decade now, known him for as long as he can remember. What this agreement means in terms of his relationship with Eren, Jean hardly dares to press, knowing how Eren is: flighty, argumentative, brash. None of that is written into Eren’s features now, though; Eren’s watching him intently, earnestly, chest stilled as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for Jean’s answer.
Something old and something new mixed together into something entirely unfamiliar.
“We don’t have to put a label on it now, or even go through the semantics,” Eren’s voice is spent, nearly breathless.
“We’ll give you some space if you need–”
“No,” Jean cuts you off, looking between you both, “no, it’s– it’s just a surprise, that’s all.”
Eren snorts. “How many times do we need to fuck you before you get the hint?”
“Eren!” You slap his arm, looking between him and Jean meaningfully. “Not really the time for jokes, is it?”
“I mean, fucking in the bathroom of Scout’s isn’t exactly wining and dining me,” Jean rolls his eyes. Eren laughs at that, unintentionally tightening his grip around Jean’s fingers and making Jean’s heart thud a little in his chest.
“You two are beyond annoying,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Eren and Jean exchange a wicked smirk.
“Regretting this already?” Eren teases you, digging his fingers into your side and making you giggle.
“Get over here,” Jean pulls you onto his lap, feeling emboldened to press a quick succession of kisses to your jawline, to your cheek. God, maybe he does love you, the weight of you in his arms feeling almost perfect. Eren leans over and tackles you both, tickling you wherever he can reach, Jean pinning you to his chest despite your protests and thrashing.
That’s what’s missing, Jean realizes. It’s not about you and Jean, or you and Eren, or he and Eren. He understands Eren’s bluntness earlier: the three of you just work, regardless of the weirdness of it all or the awkward conversations that lay ahead. It works, and for now, that’s enough.
Eren relents in his torture, scooting up the bed and dragging you with him, pulling Jean’s covers over you both like he’d done it a hundred times. Jean’s last little inkling of self-doubt perseveres, and he hesitates, until Eren tosses the covers on your other side back, patting the sheets meaningfully. Jean swallows his pride, swallows his insecurity, and pulls you into his side, very mindful of Eren’s arm tossed over both of your shoulders, of Eren’s fingers weaving absentmindedly through the hair at the nape of his neck.
And in the morning, when Eren mimics Jean’s loud snoring and you’re playfully throwing little crumbs of toast at them over the counter, the little voice in Jean’s head that had warned him to keep his distance will be completely silenced for the first time in months.