People talked about love like it happened all at once. Like it was lightning. Like one look across a crowded room, and suddenly the rest of your life made sense.

Eddie Munson thought that was complete and utter bullshit.

Love wasn't lightning; it was erosion. The kind that wore you down one unnoticed glance at a time until one day you looked up and realized you'd built an entire religion around someone who didn't even know your favorite color.

Everyone knew you.

Not in the way they knew Jason Carver, Jason demanded attention. You never asked for it…it simply just followed you.

Teachers smiled a little wider when you answered questions. Freshmen gravitated toward you on the first day of school like frightened birds, somehow knowing you were safe.

It was infuriating. Not because Eddie disliked you. God, that would've made things so much easier, no. You were kind.

Genuinely, painfully, kind.

The kind of person who remembered birthdays without writing them down. The kind of beauty that had nothing to do with your face. Though...that certainly wasn't hurting anything.

You smiled with your whole body. Your shoulders, your eyes, even your laugh looked warm. Sometimes Eddie wondered if the sun waited for your permission before coming up. Which—

Jesus Christ.

See? This was exactly the problem. He couldn't even think about you without sounding like he'd swallowed a Hallmark card. He'd never even spoken to you. Well, not really.

Sure, there'd been little moments. A borrowed pencil sophomore year. A quiet "thank you" when he'd held a door open. Passing each other in the hallway enough times that nodding became an unspoken ritual.

But conversations? Actual conversations? Those belonged to people who lived on the same planet. You lived somewhere else entirely.

Some place made of honor roll certificates, volunteer hours, and Sunday mornings that probably smelled of pancakes instead of cigarette smoke.

Eddie had long since accepted that there were invisible lines running through Hawkins High. Athletes. Nerds. Burnouts. Band kids. Freaks. You somehow belonged to all of them, while he belonged to exactly one.

Hellfire. The trailer park. The people adults warned their children about. 

Wayne always said Eddie had expensive taste. Not in clothes or cars, but people.

"You always go lookin' at things that ain't yours to carry," Wayne had muttered once while Eddie admired an old cherry-red Gibson through a pawn shop window.

At the time, Eddie thought he meant guitars. Now he wasn't so sure. Because every morning, without meaning to, he'd find himself searching the parking lot before first bell. Just to see if your car was there.

And every afternoon, he'd linger exactly thirty seconds too long outside English because he knew your classroom was across the hall. Not enough to be obvious, just enough to catch one glimpse.

Then he'd spend the rest of the day pretending that was somehow enough, though it never was.

The thing about memories was that they lied. Or maybe they just... polished themselves over time.

Eddie couldn't remember what he'd eaten yesterday. Couldn't remember what movie he'd watched with Wayne the week before. But he remembered that afternoon, every stupid, humiliating second of it.

It had been almost exactly a year ago.

The last bell had rung, sending Hawkins High spilling into the hallways in a tidal wave of backpacks and locker doors slamming shut. Eddie had lingered by his locker, stuffing loose campaign notes into a folder while Gareth argued with Jeff about whether dragons were technically reptiles.

He never heard Jason coming. The locker door slammed shut before Eddie could grab it, the metal rattling loud enough to make nearby students jump.

"Well, if it isn't the freak."

Eddie sighed. "Christ, Carver. Don't you ever get tired?"

Jason leaned against the neighboring locker with that smug grin Eddie had grown to hate. Andy and Chance flanked him like loyal guard dogs, each wearing the same self-satisfied expression.

"Nah."

Jason reached out, flicking Eddie's shoulder with unnecessary force.

"I actually look forward to these little chats."

"I don't."

"Funny."

Another shove. Not enough to knock him down, but just enough to remind him who had thirty pounds and varsity sports behind him.

"You know," Jason continued loudly, making sure the people walking by could hear, "I heard you recruited another freshman into your little Satan club."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "You guys are really obsessed with us."

"Just looking out for the town."

Same script, different day. Eddie had learned years ago that fighting back only made it worse.

So he leaned against the lockers and waited for them to get bored. He almost missed the footsteps approaching.

"What are you doing?" Your voice wasn't loud.

Jason turned first. "So, this doesn't concern—"

"It concerns me now."

You stepped between passing students without the slightest hesitation, your backpack still hanging off one shoulder.

"Move."

Jason laughed. "Excuse me?"

"I said move."

Andy scoffed. "You serious?"

Without another word, you planted a hand square against Andy's chest and shoved him back just enough to force him away from Eddie. Not hard, but just enough to make it clear whose space he'd invaded.

Jason stared at you, his jaw tightening. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" you echoed. "Three against one seems pretty pathetic to me."

"We're talking."

"No." You folded your arms. "You were cornering him."

Jason took one step closer. "I'd be careful if I were you."

Eddie's stomach dropped.

But you didn't move. Hell, you didn't even blink.

Instead, one eyebrow lifted. "What?"

Your voice stayed infuriatingly calm. "You gonna hit a girl?"

Jason's expression hardened. "I didn't say—"

"No?" You tilted your head. "I mean... you've already got one thing in common with your father."

You paused, eyeing him up and down.

"It'd be a shame if you decided to copy the rest of his behavior too."

Jason's face went red. Not from embarrassment, but pure fury. The kind of fury that made his nostrils flare.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"No?" You shrugged. "Then prove me wrong."

For a moment...Eddie genuinely thought Jason might do it. Might shove you. Might yell. Might finally snap.

Instead, Jason looked around. He couldn't touch you, not here. Not with everyone looking.

Jason just clicked his tongue. "Whatever."

He shot Eddie one last glare. "You're not worth it."

Then to you, "Careful who you stick up for."

You smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jason scoffed before turning on his heel. "C'mon."

Andy and Chance followed without another word.

Eddie realized he'd been holding his breath. "...Thanks."

You turned toward him. For a second, he thought you might say something profound. Something unforgettable.

Instead, you smiled; that warm, easy smile he'd only ever seen from across classrooms.

"Don't mention it." You adjusted your backpack. "See you around, Eddie."

Eddie? Not ‘Munson’? He thought. 

Then you just…walked away. Like standing up to Jason Carver was no bigger a deal than holding the door open for someone. Eddie watched until you disappeared around the corner.

He didn't realize Gareth had come back until someone elbowed his ribs. "Dude."

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

Eddie kept staring at the empty hallway. "...yeah."

A year later...Eddie could still tell you exactly where you'd been standing. Exactly what you were wearing. Exactly how your hand had looked when you shoved Andy away from him.

He'd spent three hundred and sixty-five days trying to convince himself it hadn't meant anything. That you would've done it for anybody. It was probably true. But God knows that didn’t help slow his crush on you down in the slightest. 

There was a reason Eddie loved the Hawkins Fall Flea Market. Sure, half the vendors were selling ceramic geese in tiny bonnets or dusty kitchenware that should've been thrown out sometime during the Nixon administration.

But every now and then...Someone's grandfather died, and suddenly there'd be a box full of first-edition fantasy novels.

Or vintage dice. Or a stack of Dragon magazines someone didn't realize were worth something. Treasure hunting. That's what Wayne always called it.

"You never know what you're gonna find."

Eddie had been elbow-deep in a cardboard box labeled COMIC BOOKS - 25¢ for nearly twenty minutes before giving up his search for anything remotely Dungeons & Dragons related.

No dice…literally.

With a dramatic sigh, he wandered farther down the rows of tents, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket as he smiled to himself. It wasn't exactly exciting, but it was comfortable.

He almost walked right past the record stand.

It was tucked between a vendor selling antique fishing lures and another covered in old comic strips and movie posters. Milk crates overflowed with vinyl records while wire racks displayed cassettes in crooked little rows.

Naturally...Eddie wandered over. His fingers skimmed over faded album covers. Thin Lizzy. Rush. Van Halen. Not bad. Then—

"...No way."

He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but there you were. Standing on the opposite side of the rack, your brows pinched together in concentration as you thumbed through a crate marked HEAVY METAL.

You wore an oversized forest-green sweater with the sleeves pushed over your hands, faded jeans, and beat-up Converse he'd never seen you wear to school. Your hair was tucked behind one ear as you carefully flipped through albums like you actually knew what you were looking at.

There was no universe in which this made sense. You belonged in the classical section. Or maybe folk, something acoustic. Not Iron Maiden. Motörhead. Judas Priest.

He blinked hard, almost thinking he was staring at a mirage. Nope, still there.

You looked up and caught him staring again. A smile spread across your face almost instantly.

"Oh." You laughed softly. "Hi, Eddie."

His mouth opened, but nothing happened.

"You... um..." Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. "You like... music?"

God, just bury him now.

Your smile only widened. "I dabble."

"I just..." He gestured helplessly toward the crate. "I wasn't expecting..."

"Me?"

He nodded.

"I wasn't expecting me either." You grinned to yourself before looking back down at the albums. "My dad's the reason."

"You've got a metalhead dad?"

"The biggest."

You laughed. "He swears everything made after 1984 is garbage."

"Smart man."

"I told him you'd probably say that."

Eddie's head snapped up. "...You've talked about me?"

The words escaped before he could stop them.

You looked equally surprised. "I..."

A tiny laugh escaped you. "I mean..."

You ducked your head for a second. "You know... around school."

Right, of course. Don't be stupid, Munson. The thought that your family even knew his name made something warm bloom in his chest.

You continued sorting through the cassette, then suddenly stopped.

"Oh."

Your fingers landed on one. Without hesitating, you slid it free from the rack and held it toward him. "I think you'd like this."

He looked down. Mercyful Fate.

Eddie stared at the cassette, then back at you. "You know Mercyful Fate?"

"I know enough." You shrugged. "My dad played this one so much I practically know it by heart."

Eddie took it carefully, almost afraid it'd disappear if he moved too fast. "You've heard this?"

"'Come to the Sabbath' used to scare me when I was little."

He barked out a laugh. "You've gotta be kidding."

"Nope."

"You don't exactly scream..." He motioned vaguely toward you. "...Mercyful Fate."

"And you don't exactly scream honor roll."

He blinked. "...Fair."

You smiled victoriously before turning back to the rack. After another moment of searching, your face brightened. "There it is."

You pulled out your own cassette. The Cure: Disintegration.

"See?" You held it up proudly. "I have range."

Eddie laughed. "I'll allow it."

"I appreciate your approval."

The older vendor wandered over. "You kids find everything?"

You nodded. "I think so."

As the man rang up your cassette, Eddie was still standing there holding the Mercyful Fate tape in both hands like you'd just gifted him the Holy Grail.

You paid, tucked the cassette into your canvas tote bag, and looked back at him. "I'll see you Monday?"

He swallowed. "...Yeah."

"Don't wait too long to listen to that." You pointed toward the cassette still in his hands. "I'd like to know what you think."

Before he could ask exactly how you planned to do that...you were already walking away.

You lifted a hand over your shoulder. "Bye, Eddie."

He watched until the crowd swallowed you whole. Only then did he glance back down at the cassette.

"You gonna buy it?"

The vendor's voice startled him. "Huh?"

"You've been holding it for five minutes."

"Oh."

Eddie looked down at the cracked plastic case, then toward the direction you'd disappeared. "...Yeah."

He smiled to himself. "I think I have to."

The cassette wasn't rare. He'd seen three copies of the same album over the last month. It wasn't even his favorite Mercyful Fate record. But this one? This one had your fingerprints on it.

By Wednesday, Eddie had listened to the Mercyful Fate cassette four times. Not because it had suddenly become his favorite album, it hadn't.

But every time King Diamond's voice crackled through the speakers of the van's cassette player, Eddie could picture your smile across that flea market record stand.

"I think you'd like this."

Wayne noticed by Tuesday night. "Ain't this the same tape you played yesterday?"

"...Maybe."

"You finally wear out your Sabbath tapes?"

"...No."

Wayne glanced over the rim of his newspaper. "...Girl?"

Eddie nearly combusted on the spot from how red his face was.

The cafeteria buzzed louder than usual as homecoming week had officially taken hold at Hawkins High. Construction paper streamers hung lopsided from the ceiling.

The student council had somehow convinced the administration to decorate every available surface in orange and green, making the cafeteria look like it had exploded.

Eddie hated it. He hated pep rallies, football, and he especially hated homecoming. And he especially especially hated listening to Jason Carver talk about the "spirit of Hawkins."

"So," Gareth said through a mouthful of fries, "we skipping the pep rally?"

"We're legally obligated to."

Jeff nodded solemnly. "It's in the Hellfire constitution."

Mike frowned. "We have a constitution?"

"We do now."

Laughter bounced around the table. Then Dustin elbowed Eddie. "Dude."

"What?"

"Twelve o'clock."

Eddie looked up. You moved from table to table carrying a thick envelope and a clipboard tucked against your chest. Homecoming tickets, of course.

You stopped at the basketball table first. Jason smiled, and you smiled back politely. Professional and nothing more. Then the band kids. Then the theater kids. Then—

Hellfire...and Eddie's heart immediately forgot how to function.

"Hi, guys."

You smiled at the whole table before your eyes landed on him.

"Hi, Eddie."

God. You always said his name like it belonged in your mouth.

"Uh... hey."

"So," you said, setting the envelope on the table. "I'm making my rounds."

You held up two small orange tickets. "Homecoming tickets. Five dollars."

Jeff snorted, Mike looked horrified, while Gareth dramatically searched his empty pockets.

"We're allergic."

"I figured."

Then you looked back at Eddie. "Oh."

Your smile softened. "Did you ever listen to the cassette?"

His brain completely abandoned him. "...Yeah."

"And?"

"It was..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...Really good."

"'Really good?'" You looked mock offended. "I thought it'd at least earn a 'life-changing.'"

"I was trying not to sound insane."

"So you liked it?"

"I—" He smiled before he could stop himself. "...Yeah. A lot, actually."

"I knew you would."

Something warm settled in his chest. You knew. Not hoped, not guessed, knew.

Which is why, when he said, without thinking, "I'll take two."

Silence, which even made Eddie freeze. What?

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. "...Two?"

He stared at the tickets. Abort mission. Abort mission. FUCK! Too late.

"Uh..." His hand was already digging into his pocket. "Yeah."

He slapped a crumpled ten-dollar bill onto the table before his brain had the chance to intervene. "I'll take two."

You looked at him for a second longer than necessary, then the smallest smile tugged at your lips. Then, you handed him the two orange tickets. 

"Our music committee isn't nearly as good as Mercyful Fate."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I'll see you around?"

"...Yeah."

You gave the table one last smile. "Have a good lunch, guys."

Then, you disappeared toward the next group of students, and the second you were out of earshot...

Five heads slowly turned toward Eddie.

"...What the hell was that?" Dustin snaps.

"What?"

"You hate homecoming."

"I don't hate—"

"You called it," Gareth interrupted, "'capitalist propaganda with crepe paper.'"

"I stand by that."

Jeff leaned across the table. "So why," he asked carefully, "did you just buy..."

He held up two fingers. "...two tickets?"

Eddie blinked. "...Did I?"

"You were there." Mike snorted. "I'm pretty sure you even paid for them."

Eddie looked down at the tickets in his hand as though they'd magically appeared there.

"...Huh."

Gareth burst into laughter. "'Huh?'"

"'Huh?!'"

"You bought two!"

"I know!"

"Do you?!"

Dustin reached across the table and plucked one from Eddie's fingers.

"'Homecoming Admission.'"

He looked around dramatically. "Guys. I think Eddie the Banished has suffered a traumatic brain injury."

Jeff nodded. "Only explanation."

"You've spent three years talking about how dances are government mind control."

"They are."

"So, who are you taking?"

Eddie opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Because...he hadn't thought that far. He hadn't thought at all. He'd just wanted another excuse or another thirty seconds of hearing your voice.

"...Nobody."

Five skeptical expressions. "Nnnoooobody?" Gareth echoed.

"Nope."

"So you just bought two tickets..."

"Yep."

"...For fun?"

"...Sure."

Mike deadpanned, "That's the stupidest thing you've ever said."

Dustin slowly smiled. "Oh."

"Oh no," Eddie muttered.

"Oh, no."

Dustin pointed across the cafeteria, where you were still making your rounds. "You bought two tickets because you're gonna ask her."

Eddie nearly choked on his Coke. "I am absolutely not."

"You absolutely are."

"I absolutely am not."

Jeff grinned. "Dude."

"You've been listening to that cassette all week."

"You don't know that."

"Wayne told my mom."

Eddie's head whipped toward him. "...Wayne, what?"

"My mom was at the trailer dropping off your uncle's casserole dish."

Jeff shrugged innocently. "He said—and I quote—'Boy's been playing the same damn tape for three days. Must be love.'"

The entire table erupted while Dustin pointed triumphantly. "Called it."

Eddie dropped his forehead onto the cafeteria table with a groan.

By the time Hellfire finished packing up their campaign books in the theater room, basketball practice had just let out. Which meant letterman jackets, inflated egos, and Jason Carver. Perfect.

Eddie spotted them before they spotted him, or so he thought.

"You boys have another séance today?"

Gareth groaned.

"Just keep walking."

That had been the plan. Until Tommy H stuck his foot out, and Gareth caught it too late.

His books were scattered across the pavement, dice bouncing in every direction. One tiny d20 rolled nearly twenty feet before coming to rest beneath a parked truck.

"Oh, my bad," Tommy said without sounding sorry in the slightest.

Gareth muttered a curse beneath his breath as he knelt to gather his things.

Eddie was already moving. "The hell's your problem?"

Jason shrugged. "Gravity."

"You tripped him," Eddie says, pointing between Jason and Tommy. 

"I don't know, Munson." Tommy grinned. "Looked pretty clumsy to me."

Jeff and Dustin immediately stepped toward Gareth, helping gather his books. Eddie stood between them and Jason.

"C’mon, man. At least pick on someone with a fighting chance."

Jason smiled as he chimed in. "I am."

The shove came so fast that Eddie barely had time to react, his shoulder slamming into the side of a parked car. The metal echoed.

"Jesus, fuck—" Eddie shoved him back, causing Jason's smile to disappear.

"Oh. There he is."

The first punch caught Eddie across the jaw, causing white to explode across his vision. He stumbled back, so Andy grabbed his jacket from behind. Then, Tommy landed one on his ribs. Someone else kicked the back of his knee.

Three against one, again. He heard Dustin yelling, Jeff trying to pull somebody off, and Gareth shouting Eddie's name.

"...Enough!"

Everything stopped as a familiar voice cut through the chaos like a knife.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Eddie blinked through blurry vision and saw you.

You were marching across the parking lot faster than he'd ever seen anyone move as your backpack swung wildly against your side.

Jason scoffed. "Stay out of it."

"No."

You shoved Andy away from Eddie so hard that he stumbled backward. "I said that’s enough."

Tommy laughed. "Oh, here comes Wonder Woman."

You ignored him completely. Instead, you crouched beside Eddie. "Are you okay?"

He tried to answer, but instead, blood dripped onto his shirt. Your face tightened as you looked back up to analyze the scene: three basketball players, one bleeding boy, and his friend's reactions somewhere between horror and panic. 

"You should be proud of yourselves."

Jason rolled his eyes. "He was acting insane. He pushed me for Christ's sake."

"That's bullshit."

Jason took a step closer. "What do you care?"

"I care because you three are acting like a bunch of fucking neanderthals. And for what? What the hell did he ever do to you?"

He laughed. "You really gonna defend this freak?"

You stood slowly until you were eye level with him. "I'm defending someone who can't fight three people at once."

Jason clicked his tongue. "You're wasting your time."

"No." You shook your head.

"You know..." You looked Jason up and down. "For someone who talks so much about honor..."

Your eyes drifted toward the gym. "...you sure need a lot of teammates when you throw a punch."

Jason's jaw clenched. "You should go."

"You first."

You kept your gaze fixed on Jason, putting on the best ‘don’t fuck with me today’ face you could muster.

His eyes dart between you and Eddie, a small and almost sinister grin forming. Then, he scoffed.

"C'mon. This freak show isn’t worth our spots in Friday's game.”

The last of the basketball team disappeared across the parking lot. Jason threw one final glare over his shoulder before climbing into Tommy's truck.

"...Jesus Christ." Your voice was barely above a whisper. Eddie looked up just in time to see you drop to your knees again beside him.

Your eyes darted over his face: the split lip, the scrape across his cheek, the beginnings of a bruise blooming beneath his eye.

"Dustin!" you called over your shoulder. "Go to the nurse's office!"

Dustin looked between you and Eddie before immediately taking off toward the school. "I'll get an ice pack!"

You nodded once before turning your attention back to Eddie. "Can you sit up?"

He managed a small nod even though every rib protested. You slipped an arm beneath his shoulder, helping him lean back against the brick wall of the school.

"So much for keeping your pretty face."

Eddie let out a weak laugh. "...Didn't know I had one."

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up."

Your backpack slid into your lap, frowning as you rifled through its contents. "No..." You dug deeper. "No..."

"Ah! There."

You pulled out an old black T-shirt, faded nearly gray with age. Eddie recognized the logo immediately: Iron Maiden, The Number of the Beast tour.

He blinked. "You just carry band shirts around for fun?"

"My dad leaves them in my car." You shrugged, "Guess they make good makeshift paper towels."

You hesitated. "Can I?"

He nodded before he even knew what you were asking. You folded the shirt into a small square before gently dabbing at the blood on the corner of his mouth; your touch was impossibly careful.

With your face inches from his, he’s embarrassed about how many times he imagined being this close more times than he cares to admit.

"You know..." You sighed, "...That was really stupid."

"Hm?"

"What were you thinking?" You wiped another streak of blood from his cheek. "There were three of them."

"They were picking on Gareth."

"I know."

"So..."

"So you decided to get yourself killed?"

"I wasn't gonna let them jump him."

"I know." You say with an exaggerated sigh.

You make another careful swipe of the shirt across his lip, "You don't always have to be the one who saves everybody."

He watched you instead of answering. Your brows were pulled together, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.

"Eddie?"

He hadn't realized he'd been staring. "What?"

"You okay? You keep looking at me and, like, zoning out. Do you feel dizzy?"

"Oh." His voice came out embarrassingly quiet, "Uh, no. Sorry."

"Oh." You reply, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

“Huh?” He swallowed.

His brain screamed at him to say literally anything else. Comment on the weather. Ask about homework.

"I think I really like you."

You froze mid-wipe of his cheek, eyes quickly meeting his. 

Eddie groaned and closed his eyes. "Fuck—Forget I said that."

"Oh."

Fantastic. She sounds uncomfortable. Wonderful.

"I didn't mean—"

"No." Your hand gently caught his wrist before he could keep spiraling, "I just..."

He opened his eyes, and to his delight, you were smiling.

"I've been wondering how long that was going to take."

His eyebrows knit together. "...What?"

"I was starting to think you were never going to say it."

"...Say what?"

"That."

You laughed quietly. "I've liked you for over a year, Eddie."

His brain stopped. "No, you don't."

"I do."

"You can't."

"I can."

"You..." He searched your face for the joke, "You've liked me?"

"Since you helped that freshman find the theater room on the first day of school last year."

"...That's why?"

"You spent fifteen minutes walking him around the building."

"He looked lost."

"I know." You smiled, "That's kind of my point."

He stared, then laughed, a disbelieving and breathless laugh.

"I've spent an entire year convincing myself you were completely out of my league."

"I've spent an entire year waiting for you to realize I wasn't.”

His heart nearly flew out of his chest just then.

"But then..." You shrugged, looking almost sheepish. "You bought the second homecoming ticket, so I just assumed you found someone else to ask."

"...WHAT?"

The word exploded out of him so loudly that a flock of birds scattered from the nearby trees.

You blinked. "What?"

"No!" He sat up a little too fast before immediately grabbing his ribs. "Ow—Jesus Christ."

"Eddie! Jesus, would you calm d—"

"No, no, listen." He pointed emphatically toward the school. "I bought the second ticket because you were standing there."

"...I know."

"No, I mean—" He groaned. "I wasn't thinking."

"I've noticed."

"I just wanted an excuse to keep talking to you."

You stared.

"So my brain went..." He mimed throwing something across the parking lot. "'Buy two tickets.' But uh, I didn't have a plan after that."

A laugh bubbled out of you. "So..."

He continued, growing increasingly animated. "...then Gareth asks, 'Who're you taking?'"

"And?"

"And I realized..." He buried his face in his hands. "...I had absolutely no idea what I was doing."

Your shoulders started shaking. "Oh my God..."

"I panicked."

"I can tell."

"I said I bought them for fun."

"You told them..." you managed between laughs, "'for fun?'"

"I know!"

"That's the worst lie I've ever heard."

"I KNOW."

"They believed you?"

"They absolutely did not."

You laughed even harder, and he found himself laughing, too.

"I have spent," he said through a grin, "the last four days wondering who the hell I was supposed to ask because apparently I'd already committed."

Your laughter slowly faded into something softer.

"So..." You looked at him carefully. "...Who were you planning on asking?"

He gave you the most incredulous look. "You."

"Really?"

"You literally just admitted you thought I found somebody else."

"I know, but..." You smiled. "I wanted to hear you say it."

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "You're evil."

"A little."

"You've been letting me suffer this whole time?"

"I thought it was kind of cute."

"Oh, that's cruel."

"It was a little cruel." You say, shrugging.

He smiles the biggest smile he can muster, considering the pain shooting through what feels like every inch of his body, and releases a deep sigh. 

"So..."

"So?"

He reached into the pocket of his denim vest, wincing as his bruised ribs protested.

After a second of fumbling, he pulled out the slightly crumpled orange homecoming ticket, holding it out between two fingers.

"I know this isn't exactly the most romantic timing."

You looked down at the ticket, then back up at him.

"But..." His smile turned nervous, "...would you maybe wanna go to homecoming with me?"

You could’ve just verbally said yes, but fuck that.

You broke the final inches of distance between you, your lips meeting his. He kissed you back instinctively, one hand finding your waist, smiling into the kiss. You smiled too.

"Hss—" Eddie jerked back with a sharp wince, immediately bringing a hand to his mouth.

"Oh, my God!" Your eyes went wide. "Shit! I'm so sorry!"

"No, no—" He laughed despite himself, carefully pressing two fingers against his split lip. "I just forgot I got punched."

"You idiot."

"Yeah..." A grin spread across his face, "...Worth it."

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the smile tugging at your lips.

"This time," you murmured, leaning closer again, "try not to throw yourself into it like you're storming a castle."

"I make no promises."

"I know." You cupped his cheek, much gentler now. "So let me."

This kiss was much slower; you barely brushed your lips against his at first. He practically pulled you into his airspace, completely ignoring any stinging sensation because, hell, he’d thought about this at least a thousand times. 

Afterward, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

"I've wanted to do that," he admitted softly, "for... probably an embarrassing amount of time."

You laughed. "Me too."

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize your face. "So..."

"So?"

"Does this mean you'll go to homecoming with me?"

You pretended to think about it. "Hmm..."

"Don't do this to me."

"I suppose."

He let out the most dramatic sigh of relief. "Thank God."

Before you could tease him for it, he was kissing you again. His hand found your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your jaw as he smiled into it, and you smiled back.

Then you felt the subtle tension in his hand. The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly against your skin. The sharp inhale he tried, and failed, to hide.

You pulled back just enough to look at him. "You're hurting."

"I'm surviving."

"Eddie."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He grinned, lopsided because of his split lip. "I've imagined kissing you about a thousand times."

You laughed softly.

"And not once did Jason Carver punch me beforehand."

You rolled your eyes, your thumb carefully brushing beneath the bruise blooming under his eye.

"You are unbelievable."

"I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have."

His forehead rested against yours, his smile refusing to leave. "I don't think anything could ruin today."

"...Ahem."

The two of you froze and slowly turned your heads.

Dustin stood a few yards away, an ice pack dangling from one hand. He looked from Eddie to you, then to the fact that you were still sitting impossibly close together, practically entangled. 

A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. 

"...I guess you don't need that ice pack then?"

missed u guys sm:,) more coming soon, pinky promise <3

taglist:

@bonnieprincess @kylorensbaby @rebelfell @djotummy

@bitterestwillow @lnnn1n @youngbrokefab @ludachrissy @sisteramycatherine @izzycstairs @britttzy267 @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @sariahs-stuff @cciessuzi @lilyquinnmunson @julxsxx @kozume-ko @obsessed-eddie @doomdabss @leelei1980 @hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses @meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullsteve @peachpuffs25 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond @enne02  @ludachrissy @izzycstairs

@abbysleftbicepp @britttzy267 @ssculker @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @kylorensbaby

You would actually laugh at the sight of it if your aunt wasn’t so serious and hellbent on the ridiculous gown. She stands behind you in her Southern finest with pearl jewelry and all, sizing you up while the sweet dresshop employee stares at you with a big grin. “Oh, look at you! Pink suits you quite well!” 

Your aunt side-eyes the employee, wiping the adoring smile right off of her face. “I’ll be the judge of that. Turn around, dear. Let me see you from all angles.” Begrudgingly, you do so, knowing that your aunt is not one to be argued with. You have to focus every brain cell on turning around in a full circle, feeling even more of a clown as you do it. 

“I can barely move, Auntie!” you protest, pouting as you stare at her in the store mirror. “This dress makes me feel like a sheep!” 

The older woman with the graying hair and gloved hands rolls her eyes before handing the employee another crisp bill to fetch more champagne. “Oh, quit your winin’! You said you wanted the finest dress for my ball tonight and I gave you just that! What’s the problem?” 

You scowl at her in the mirror, wiggling around in the dress, causing the ruffles at your feet to wish. “How am I supposed to dance? Or bend down? Or even go to the bathroom?!” Your aunt simply titters, waving a gloved hand. “You will be shown all you need to be later today. The ball isn’t until 8, but much has to be done and prepared.” 

She gives you a sharp look as she sits down in one of the lounge chairs set up in the adorable (yet expensive) dress boutique. Your aunt dragged you here over an hour ago and you’ve been here ever since trying on gown after gown for her annual July 4th ball. She throws it every summer for the holiday, inviting the entirety of high Southern society aka her people. 

Your aunt is the creme de la creme of the Southern elite, living as a third-time divorcee in her big ass house among her favorite willow trees, a fruit orchard, and cherished Dalmatian dogs that always give kisses when you see them. Though she has a big enough home to throw a party, she purchased an estate years ago that had long since been abandoned, renovated it with a brand new kitchen, a ballroom, and a garden, and has reserved it strictly for throwing extravagant parties.

That’s your auntie: a Southern belle and a seasoned bad bitch. In addition to a hopeless romantic. She reaches across to pinch your arm, earning a loud “Ow!” out of you when she notices your disapproving expression. “Drop that face. No self-respectin’, fine gentleman will give you the time of day with that look on your face…and I mean one fine gentleman in particular.” 

She dreamily sighs as she gazes over your gown, seeing you as a picture of Southern elegance. “Naoya will just adore you,” she sighs. “A picture-perfect man with a picture-perfect woman.” You roll your eyes, but only when she is busy with the employee bringing more champagne flutes at the mention of the “picture-perfect man” she speaks of.  

She has gone on and on about Naoya Zenin aka the young doctor that she has been trying to fix you up with all summer since you arrived back home. Your family is convinced that you need to start thinking about marriage despite just being in your mid-20s and straight out of an Ivy League. What you need to focus on is your career as a nurse and making your adult life in the city; not hitching a mate to carry on your rich family name.

However, due to the fact that you’re a certified people pleaser, an overeacher, and a very good girl, you agreed to your aunt’s suggestion of staying with her over the summer in your hometown and “matching you” to a wealthy Southern gent. Besides, how could you pass off a summer of lounging by your aunt’s pool, drinking plenty of delicious iced teas made by her maid, and enjoying a summer in your hometown?  

As if to bless you, the bell above the door rings, signaling the arrival of two people you’ve been waiting for. Your brothers barge into the boutique, sweaty from the summer heat in their cut-off shorts and tank tops. “Howdy, howdy!” Yuuji, your youngest brother, greets. “Anybody call for an emergency lunch situation?!” 

Choso, the oldest one out of the three of you, scowls at the dress you’re wearing as Yuuji snatches a paper bag from him. “What the hell is that?” he grumbles. Your auntie, already pissed at their interruption, glares at her nephew. “It’s her dress! Now tell her that she looks good or you’ll both get smacked.” 

Yuuji frowns disapprovingly at her while Choso silently sips on his soda. “That’s abuse, Auntie. I thought we talked about this.” But once your aunt sharpens her eyes, he switches his tune. “Wow, sis, you look so pretty in that dress! You’ll be the belle of the ball tonight!” 

“I hate you,” you mouth to him. Yuuji gives you an apologetic grin as your aunt smiles, pleased.  “Splendid! Now let me look for some nice shoes to match.” 

As she hurries off to check out the shoes across the room, you scurry over to your brothers in the dress, ignoring their struggle to not laugh. “Please tell me that’s for me.” You stare longingly at the paper bag of food, watching Choso smirk. “Mmm, I dunno. I like me some fried green tomatoes too.” 

You tsk, snatching the bag from him. “Gimme those. Auntie has been starvin’ me since we came here to buy dresses, but I don’t see any that I like!” Literally every dress surrounding you is too ruffled, too gaudy, or too stuffy. 

“Well, you know her,” Choso deadpans with a shrug. “She’s from a past generation where women didn’t show ass and ti—“ He hisses before he can continue because of the harsh smack to give his chest. “Ow!” he grunts. “Jeez, I was only tryin’ to help!” 

“The only help you’ve given me is buyin’ me lunch. This whole thing is makin’ me not even wanna go to the ball anymore.” You shove a hand into the bag and produce a fried green tomato, shuddering in joy as you bite into it. “It’s like she’s tryin’ to change me, guys,” you sigh, feeling downtrodden and low about the entire matchmaking business your aunt has cooked up for your summer. 

‘This wouldn’t have happened if you just said no,’ the critical voice in your head hisses. And here you are once again putting yourself down. For giving into your family’s expectations of you. And as usual, your brothers are there to stop your spiral. 

“Hey, hey, no, she’s not,” Yuuji soothes you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Auntie’s always had a soft spot for ya, sis. I think she just wants to bag you a rich guy before the summer ends.” And she absolutely does. Which is why she is hellbent on making this thing with Naoya Zenin work. You know for a fact that he will be at the ball, so she is doing everything in her power to stop that. 

To lighten the mood, Yuuji makes a joke. “You could always try your luck with my buddies.” You giggle, shaking your head as you finish up your green tomato disk. “Thank you, but I’m spoken for. Plus, aren’t all your friends, like, seventeen?” 

Choso raises a pierced brow at you, alarmed. “Spoken for? By who? You got a secret boyfriend I don’t know ‘bout?” But Yuuji is there to be your savior, elbowing his big bro in the ribs. “You dummy! She’s talkin’ about that Naoya guy! Ya know, the one you think is a douchebag?” 

“Oh, him,” Choso replies in disdain, rolling his eyes at the mention of the doctor. You scowl in confusion, unaware of Choso’s strong feelings over Naoya. “Why? Naoya is very charmin’ and nice!” 

At least, so far, he has. You have only known Naoya for a month, but in that time, he has been quite a gentleman–holding the doors for you, walking you home after your dates, remaining respectful and charming. He is quite the catch…but still, you feel spoken for another. Even when it’s been so long since you’ve seen him. 

“For right now,” Choso scoffs. “The dude gives me the creeps.” Yuuji hollers with laughter, slurping down his blue slushie. “Everybody gives you the creeps, you emo. Even that cowboy that sis was–”

Choso harshly claps a hand over Yuuji’s mouth to shut him up, but the damage has been done. The bottle that was clamped closed years before when he left your bed with nothing but a letter and you left your hometown pops open. 

At least a smidge. Not all the way like before. You are different now, so you smile. “It’s fine, guys,” you giggle, but it sounds strained to you. “That’s all in the past, right? After all, I’m here to find a good dress for my ‘future husband’.” 

You turn away to pretend to look for a dress, not wanting them to see the truth in your eyes—the truth that you still love that cowboy despite his past and run-ins with the law. That you still think about him all these years later even when you shouldn’t. That you still wonder where he is, how he’s doing, who he’s with….

But all of that is in the past as it should be. It’s for the best anyway. Suguru wasn’t the right man for you. While sweet, considerate, patient, and kind, he was also a criminal. He robbed banks and trains. He jumped from place to place, dodging the law. In the end, he would only bring you trouble even when he promised to never have trouble come to your door. 

Suddenly, all of that is silenced when you catch the glimpse of the most beautiful cocktail dress you’ve ever seen. The most beautiful shade of ruby red; long with a thigh slit; strapless with a sweetheart neckline; a big bow in the back that gives the dress a sweet yet sexy aura. Your eyes widen at the dress, enchanted by it. “Look at this one! Oh, it’s so pretty!” 

You rush over to admire it, pinching the gorgeous satin fabric between your fingers. Like a ghost, your aunt appears beside you, disapproving as usual. “It’s so low is what it is. I’d practically see your breasts!” 

Your brothers begin to snicker together as you glare at your tipsy aunt. “Auntie!” you hiss. “But I’d be able to move around in it. Can I at least try it on pleeeease?” You look back at the dress, knowing how daring it is and loving it for that. This would definitely be the thing to break you out of the bubble your family has built around you. 

Your aunt caves and you rush to try on the dress in a try-on room. Now the woman staring back at you doesn’t resemble a Southern circus act, but a sophisticated, sexy woman with curves accentuated by the gorgeous dress she’s wearing. Your breasts are lifted in a manner that is both seductive yet classy, the giant bow behind you like the top of a cherry on an ice cream cone. 

When you come out of the try-on room, you smile, twirling for your aunt and brothers. “How do I look?” you giggle. Your aunt gives you a pinched frown, unhappy. “Like a damn harlot. Take it off at once.” 

You look at your brothers who nod approvingly at you, silently giving you the encouragement you need. “But I love it!” you protest, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ll wear it with a shawl or somethin’ to cover myself, but please let me get it! I’ll pay for it!” 

Your aunt sizes you up, still looking irritated by such a disgrace of a gown. “It is a pretty dress,” Choso adds. I like the bow.” Your aunt shoots him a glare, irritated by his input. “I don’t recall askin’ you,” she hisses, but he barely even cracks, only smirking at her bite. 

Your aunt turns back to you and stands, slowly circling you as if you are on display in a store window. Finally, she huffs and gives in. “Fine, but don’t complain if Naoya is askin’ to wed you. Or if all the men there come flockin’. You’re lookin’ for a husband, not a fling.” 

You smile, grateful for your brothers’ encouragement and your own courage to speak up for what you want. You give your aunt a smile and flash her your wallet. “Don’t worry, Auntie. I am a lady, after all.” 

“That’s quite the dress, lil’ lady. Who tryna impress?” Yuki whispers. “You don’t have to do much to get me.” 

Choso snatches his girlfriend back by her waist, making her giggle. “Stop harassin’ my little sister, will ya, Yuki?” he huffs, sipping on his champagne, looking so uncomfortable in his suit. Meanwhile, Yuki looks damn near goddess-like in her purple dress and blonde updo. “Please. Least I know beauty when I see it.” 

 “Aww, thanks, Yuki! You’re too sweet.” You giggle, flushing shyly in your cocktail dress that has been turning heads since you entered. 

The ball is in full swing tonight, the ballroom touched top to bottom with guests dressed in their July 4th finest: all kinds of big hats, poofy dresses, and suits as far as the eye could see. Streamers, center pieces, snack tables, and trays of champagne are everywhere you can see along with a dance floor full of guests dancing to the live band playing. 

Your aunt went all out for this ball as did you. The dress was paired with an updo you did to pin your curls up over your head, stiletto heels, and a sinfully red lipstick that stopped everyone dead in their tracks. Combined with some gold jewelry, a spritz of French perfume, and some vanilla lotion on your skin, you feel like a million dollars standing among your aunt’s crowd. 

If only you felt up to the festivities tonight. You’ve been nursing the same champagne glass for over thirty minutes since your arrival, hoping for tonight to go by quickly and to not see Naoya’s face. 

Yuuji’s eyes roll over your dress, still shocked that his sister is actually in it. “I’m shocked Auntie even let you buy that. Ain’t she big on modesty?” You cluck your tongue, waving a hand glossy with red nails that you got freshly done for the festivities. “She still lives like we’re in ‘Gone With The Wind’. Besides, if I’m gonna find a suitor, why not dress the part?”

Megumi, Yuuji’s boyfriend and date for tonight, scowls at this, confused. “Sorry, what? You’re lookin’ for a suitor?” 

Yuuji chuckles, happy to fill his boyfriend in on your troubles, much to your dismay. “Our aunt is convinced that my sweet lil’ sister is in need of a husband to carry on the family name and supply extra wealth to our lineage…her words, not mine.”

Megumi looks disgusted by this while Yuki rolls her eyes, sipping her drink. “Well, you ain’t gonna find one here unless you like the blue collar and elite assholes,” she jokes. 

And like clockwork, your aunt fans a gloved hand at you in a wave from across the room. “Oh, Y/N, dear! Look who I just found!” You can tell she’s good and drunk by the way she practically grips Naoya’s arm, presenting him like he’s some prized hog to you. 

Naoya looks fresh to death in his suit, but his appearance and smile don’t make your stomach flip in excitement. It’s something else; something the champagne is making quite fuzzy. You turn to your crew with a sigh. “Duty calls, I guess. Catch y’all later tonight.” But as you strut away in your heels, Choso squeezes your wrist, coaxing you back over. “Come get me if she’s too much,” he whispers. 

You snigger, rolling your eyes shimmering in eyeshadow. “Auntie is always too much. But thanks, bro.” Choso doesn’t look convinced though; not even Yuuji, who worriedly looks over from afar. “And you’re sure you’re okay with all this? Lookin’ for a husband or whatever?” 

The truth is right at the tip of your tongue, but instead, you stamp it down with a rehearsed smile. “Why wouldn’t I be? A doctor or a politician is better than anythin’ else, right?” From the way Choso’s brows raise, you can tell he is picking up on the hidden meaning underneath your convincing words. 

Before he can say anything more though, you quickly strut away and gulp down the rest of your champagne for liquid courage. You know you’ll need it for the rest of tonight. Your aunt grins when you arrive, yanking you over by your arm and squeezing you tight. “There she is! Now isn’t she a crowned jewel?” 

Naoya gives his award-winning, cunning smile to you.  “Yes, indeed, miss. It’s lovely to see you again, Y/N…especially in this outfit.” His golden eyes drag over your form, making you feel like a slab of food. “Thank you, Naoya,” you manage to reply with a smile. “Glad you could make it.” 

The doctor laughs, waving a hand where a Rolex watch sits on his wrist. “And miss your aunt’s annual 4th of July ball and spendin’ quality time with her gorgeous niece? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

God, he’s so quick-witted. So charming. So full of the right words to say. They make your aunt melt instead of you, opting for her to take another slurp of her Brandy Alexander. “Well, I’ll just leave you two alone.” She gives you a wink before she walks off to chat with more of her guests, leaving you alone with Naoya. 

You stand there rigidly, not sure what to do or what to say. You instantly feel stupid, hating that you can’t be as interested in Naoya as he is in you. “This surely is quite the dress,” he comments, eyes still locked on your gown. “Everybody else seems to think so too.” You give a small, shy chuckle, shrugging. “Oh, I doubt it.” 

Suddenly, the doctor reaches towards you and takes your mesh burgundy shawl that you’ve laced around your arms to place it over your shoulders instead. He is so close that you smell the overwhelming cologne wafting off of him, choking you. “Cover yourself. We have to save what is mine, won’t we?” 

His eyes glint with something sharp, but you can’t decipher it or question his words before someone is bumping into you from the side, nearly spilling wine on your shoes. “It’s getting quite rowdy in here,” Naoya huffs, irritated. “What do you say we take these drinks and head outside?” 

And what do you do? You say yes. Because how else are you going to bag a husband like your family wants? 

So you grab yourself another glass of champagne and travel out onto the veranda with Naoya. The large lawn, as wide as a football field, stretches before you with the dirt roads and a forest to your left and the gardens to your right. You consider both directions escape routes…just in case. Naoya stands beside you with his whiskey, head tiled up towards the starry sky. It is quiet with only the buzz of insects and the sounds of the party inside filling the space.

You’re not sure you want to talk. To be honest, you hope that your silence puts Naoya off; makes him less interested in pursuing you. But then he speaks: “A beautiful night, isn’t it?” he comments. So, of course, you’re obligated to speak back. “Yeah, it is. My aunt surely knows how to pick a night for a ball.”

He hums in agreement, his eyes sliding over to you. “And I certainly know how to pick my company,” he replies. “You truly are the most beautiful belle here.” Your skin tingles from his gaze on your dress, making you feel naked. “Thank you,” you whisper, a smile growing on your lips. You aren’t sure if it’s out of shyness or common courtesy. 

And then as quickly as your smile comes, it goes as soon as you feel Naoya’s hand in yours. He takes your champagne glass away and puts it on the edge of the veranda before he places a hand on your waist, fully turning you to face him. “Wait, Naoya–” 

“You know, I was thinking of taking a trip to admire the study later. Would you like to join me?” The question is so out of the left field that your brain, slow from the champagne, has trouble catching it. But the glint in his eye clues you in. “Isn’t the study upstairs?” you dumbly ask.

He just smirks, sharp and cunning, and suddenly, you don’t like Naoya anymore. The charming attitude and persona that he’s curated slips, leaving you uncomfortable. “Thank you for the offer, but I was going to tour the gardens.” It’s a great excuse and still keeps things respectful. However, Naoya pushes it. “Would you like some company?” he murmurs, his hand traveling to your waist. “That dress certainly looks like you do.” 

You blink at him, offended. “Excuse me?” you pointedly ask. “What does my dress have to do with you?” The doctor laughs, finding your offense funny to him. “I just meant it as a compliment! No need to take it so personal.” 

Slowly, you slip Naoya’s hand off of your waist, making his smirk slip from his face. “Personal?” you scoff. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’m the company you’re lookin’ for.” And now Naoya gets irritated, his jaw tightening and eyes darkening. “And why is that? Am I not good enough for you?” 

You take a step back, your body flush with discomfort. This isn’t at all how you thought tonight was going to go. “That’s not what I–” 

“Do you have any idea how much money I have?” he continues, his tone cutthroat and mean. “How many women would love to be in your spot right now? If I were you, I’d take advantage.” He walks upon you again while you turn to go back inside, but a deep, silky voice twinged with a Southern accent stops you both short. 

“‘Scuse me.” You both turn towards a rose bush standing proudly at your left where a six-foot something man stands. He is all broad muscle, even in his sexy cowboy attire of a black cowboy hat, a vest, and boots with spurs hanging from the sleeves. His long, black hair cascades down his back, each strand glistening in the moonlight like the pierces embedded in his ears, eyebrow, and bottom lip. 

He tips his hat up, greeting you both with a set of violet eyes and a smile that seems so familiar to you. However, his tattoos and masculine features stop you short. “Apologies for the intrusion, but any if y’all fine rich folk got a light? I’m afraid my lighter has given out on me.” He shows you his lighter between his black-painted fingernails. 

Naoya glares at the stranger, angered by his presence. “No, we don’t. Who are you?” The cowboy shrugs passively, still smiling. “Nobody important. Just a man who likes a good party.” He pauses, cocking his head. “Who are you?” 

The doctor’s face goes red with rage, turning fully towards the cowboy now. “I’m–” 

“Nevermind, it’s not important,” the cowboy replies. “I do know that you’re a guy who’s overstayed his welcome though.” His smile turns sharp; a challenge for Naoya. “You heard what she said and she said it rather nicely. So I think you need to get on and find some better company.” 

You stand there, eyes flicking between the cowboy and Naoya, waiting with bated breath for a fight. Naoya has gone completely rogue now, anger in his narrowed eyes. “And who are you to talk to me like that?” he scoffs. “I know the town sheriff personally! I could have you behind bars right now if you keep disrespectin’ me!” 

The cowboy continues to smile, unbothered and cocky, making your tummy twirl with curiosity and attraction. Before anyone can reply, you hear your aunt’s voice from inside hollering into a microphone: “Attention, all guests! May we please gather ‘round for a speech before the midnight fireworks?” 

The cowboy smiles at Naoya, tipping his hat at him. “Sounds like that’s your cue. Pleasure meetin’ ya.” Naoya looks like he wants to argue more, but instead, he roughly fixes his collar and storms inside, muttering about calling the cops on “that prick”. The door opens and slams shut, leaving you alone with the strangely familiar cowboy. 

You can’t explain it—it’s like a feeling you can’t name bubbling at your chest, rising within you like steam. What is it about this man? “I was handlin’ that myself,” you deadpan, placing your hands on his hips. 

The cowboy shrugs, lighting himself a cigarette. You watch, heart pounding, realizing that he lied just to get Naoya away from you. “I’m sure, but I wasn’t about to let a pretty lady fend off a creep by herself.” He hollows his cheeks as he inhales, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils. “You should probably head on inside. This place might be pretty, but it’s crawlin’ with wolves.” 

You raise a brow at him, wondering just where this man came from. “Thanks for your concern, but I can handle myself. I’m not a little girl.” The cowboy chuckles, putting his hands up in defense. “Didn’t say all that. I’m sure you can, but I also know hoedowns like this one can go from right to wrong in about five bottles of champagne.” 

You stifle a giggle, closing your shawl around yourself tighter. You should go back inside, but you don’t. Instead, you let the bubbly talk and the night air fuel you. “I didn’t see you in there…but then again, I don’t think cowboy boots are the dresscode.” 

The cowboy chuckles, soft and sexy. “Nice catch, lil’ lady. They’re most certainly not, but I was just here to put on a show. Guess they don’t need me if they got fancy fireworks, so I’ll be takin’ my leave now.” 

He clicks his tongue and pats his hip, holding his cig between his fingers. You hear soft whiney and turn to see a black Bronco appearing from behind a hedge bush with a saddle. “Nice horse.” The cowboy smiles as he grasps the horse’s reins, stroking her sleek fur. “Heard that, Penny? The sweet lady gave you a compliment. Thank her properly.” 

The horse slowly bows her head, her ears flicking. “She’s trained?” you giggle, overcome from the cuteness. The cowboy nods, proud of his baby. “Since she was a fowl. She’s the main attraction.” Penny huffs through her nostrils, satisfied with such praise. 

“Well, maybe you can show me your act.” The words escape you before you can stop yourself. The cowboy raises a brow, confused. “Seriously? Aren’t you supposed to be inside?” You tut and wave a hand, not even wanting to think about the ball anymore. “Please. I’d rather watch some horse tricks than attend a borin’-ass toast before the fireworks.” 

You tell yourself that it’s just to watch Penny, a majestic creature, do her tricks, but really, deep down? It’s all because of the charming, sweet-smelling cowboy whose presence is hooking you more than you care to admit. So he gives into your request and shows you some tricks out in the grassy clearing yards away from the house. 

There, with you standing in the grass under the stars, the cowboy puts on a grand performance, complete with spins on Penny’s back, making her stand on her hind legs, and standing on her back as she totters through the glades. You love watching him pet the horse’s heaving side, stroking her fur and chatting with her. He’s so tender and loving with her, making your heart quiver. When he finally finishes up, he bows as you applaud him, even whistling.

“Thank you kindly,” he chuckles, placing his hat back on his head. “You ever ridden before?” Dumbly, you ask, “A horse?” The cowboy raises a humored brow, making you flush from your tipsy stupidity. “Not since I was a little girl, but I still love it.” 

You slowly come up to Penny, admiring her as she takes a chomp out of the apple the cowboy slips out of her knapsack for her. “Why’d ya stop?” 

He watches intently as you inch towards the horse, admiring you as you admire her. “I moved to the city for school. This is my first summer back home.” You take a hand and stroke Penny’s side, feeling her silky fur. “Hi, sweet girl,” you whisper. 

The cowboy notices the tender look you give his horse, a hidden memory buried in your gaze. Memories of riding that were put on pause because of school and familial expectations. 

“Would you wanna take a lil’ ride? It’s a beautiful night for one.” He motions towards the starry sky, and as if agreeing, the song of the crickets gets louder. You bite your lip, looking from him to the mansion, wondering if someone may see. In the end, curiosity wins. “Just for a bit. I can’t ruin my dress.” 

The cowboy nods, a dimple popping as he smiles. “‘Course not. It looks very…expensive.” You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your dress, making you feel hot instead of uncomfortable…and that makes you uncomfortable. Why do you feel so drawn to this stranger? 

He scoots out of the way, letting you pet Penny’s mane. “Want some horse ridin’ tips, partner?” he teases with a molten smirk. “Or am I speakin’ to a pro who just happens to look like the belle of the ball?” You smirk back, enjoying the banter between you. “Both. Now do you mind givin’ a girl a hand?” 

The cowboy chuckles, snapping his fingers at Penny. “Tsk, tsk. Down, Penny, girl.” The horse slowly bows, allowing you an easier way of getting on her back. You stiffen when you feel the cowboy’s big hands on your waist, secure and respectful. “This okay?” he whispers. He smells of mint, nicotine, and pine, the scent making your pussy throb. So unladylike. 

Silently, you nod and he scoops you up, easily placing you on Penny’s back. You just hope you aren’t staining the saddle in your wetness. “Gently tug on her reins for her to walk,” the cowboy instructs. “Tug once a little harder if you want her to pick up speed.” 

You feel your heartbeat accelerate as you gently tug on the reins, causing Penny to slowly begin walking. Her hooves thud in the grass, her back muscles moving with you on top. When you tug the reins again, she begins to totter, making you lightly bounce on her back. As you ride on Penny’s back, you feel giddy, smiling and giggling with the summer breeze softly blowing against your face. 

The cowboy watches on as you tug the reins a bit harder, settling back into your riding days. “Let’s go, Penny!” you holler. “Take me for a ride, girl!” And Penny does, picking speed and bounding through the glades, the wind fanning through her and your hair. You updo loosens, pins falling loose, causing your curls to blow around your face in the wind.

You feel freer than you ever had in years. Even six years of independence in the city couldn’t have given you the feeling you have now. The cowboy laughs with you, watching from afar as you take his horse for a spin. Finally, Penny comes to a stop, heaving from the run. You look down to check for mud or grass stains, glad to find nothing there. You may have saved your dress, but your hair isn’t so lucky. 

As you fix your hair, the cowboy slowly helps you down, hands securely gripping your waist in a way that makes your pulse skyrocket. “Good girl,” he praises, but you can’t tell if he means you or the horse. When you turn around from fixing your hair, he is stroking Penny’s fur. ‘Of course, he meant the fucking horse,’ you think.

The cowboy pauses, beefy arms crossed over his broad chest, smirking proudly at you. "You ain't a bad lil' rider, partner. Maybe you can teach me some of your tricks sometime? Can't have ya outdoin' the best at his game.” 

Your body reacts intensely to his silky tone—pounding heart, hardening nipples, butterflies a’swarmin’ in your tummy. You find yourself playing into it, smirking back. “Sure,” you purr. “How would you want me to show you? I don’t own a horse.” 

He shrugs, taking Penny by her reins and leading her towards the house with you. He follows you to the gardens, right at the threshold of the entrance where animal hedges sit before you. “M’sure we can think of somethin’ if we see each other again.” You blink at him, chuckling at his boldness. “So you wanna see me again? I don’t even know your name.” 

That’s when the energy in the air shifts. You can tell by his eyes: what were once playful and seductive are now intimate and private. “You know me pretty damn well,” he croons in his Southern drawl. “But of course, time can change everyone. Ain’t that right, peaches?”

You stop short, literally pausing during your walk to stare at him. He stares back, smile gone, his silence speaking volumes. Peaches? You were called that by only one person in your life. Someone you thought was long gone. 

His name sits on your tongue, having not been said for years but still lingering like the scent of perfume. “Suguru?” you whisper, barely above the breeze. But he hears you, his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree at your name on his lips. “Yes?” he whispers back. 

His voice, so deep and silky, makes it hard to breathe. You don’t know where to start. Why is he here? What is he here for? Why did he leave that night all those years ago? But instead, you ask: “So you knew who I was this whole time and you acted like I was a whole stranger?” 

Suguru seems ready for the question and shrugs, giving you an irritatingly playful smirk. “You know me. Dramatic flair, I guess.” You dryly laugh, all of your fondness for the cowboy leaving in a rush of cold air. “Of course…that’s why you left me in the middle of the night after fuckin’ me, right?” 

The bite in your tone is evident and Suguru notices immediately. “You really wanna do this now?” he deadpans, his smile fading. You place your hands on your hips, wound up tight with resentment. “Yes, I do. You come back after all this time when I finally made a life for myself? After you broke my heart?” 

Suguru’s irritated expression softens and he sighs. “Y/N–”

“Why are you here?” you hiss. “Explain. Now. I deserve that much.” You wait, the perfume of the rose bushes not relaxing you any bit. Suguru looks just as wired up as you feel, taken over by some silent battle. 

“I…wanted to see you,” he weakly admits. You scowl at him, scoffing at such a response. “It’s a horrible excuse, but I couldn’t stay away any longer than I already had. There’s a reason why I left that night after we were intimate.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for an explanation about that night. The night he said that he would stop all of his petty crime and start anew with you. “So tell me now. There’s no one but you and me.” 

You and me. Just like what he said before: “It’s you and me, baby. Just us against the world.”

All of those feelings from that night and after come back up, still raw. “Did you not wanna be with me?” you tearfully ask. Suguru’s eyes grow fiery and suddenly, he is taking your hand and leading you deeper into the gardens, away from the prying eyes of the mansion. 

The area is sweet and romantic, complete with rose bushes towering over you. “No,” he fiercely replies, finally able to speak. “You were everythin’ that I wanted, baby. You still fuckin’ are. Why do you think I’m here?” 

“Then why the fuck did you leave?!” you snap, pushing at his chest. He barely budges. “Why did you take off and break my heart when I had all these plans for us? Why did you–” 

“‘Cause I went to fuckin’ jail!” he snaps. You pause, gobsmacked by such a revelation. 

Finally, his resolve snaps, his expression open and vulnerable. “That’s why I left. I made more mistakes and did more crimes in my youth than you know. I don’t got no bodies, but it didn’t matter to the sheriff. So I was hauled off to the county jail for two years. It would’ve been four, but I was let out early on good behavior.”

You blink at him, slowly processing the onslaught of information. That’s why he disappeared. That’s why he didn’t come with you to the city like he said he would. “I didn’t know,” you whisper, feeling so small now. 

“Of course not,” he replies with a dry laugh. “You were in the city and as far as my letter goes, I dropped off the face of the earth. So I sent your brothers money for your tuition–” 

“You what?!” you gasp, gobsmacked. “Suguru, I didn’t ask you to do that!” 

“I know you didn’t, Y/N, fuck,” he growls. “But it was the least I could do for ghostin’ you. I wanted you to succeed the way I always knew you could.” You feel tears prickle in your eyes, deep pain and open wounds leaving you vulnerable and resentful, even when you should feel grateful for such a generous act. 

“So after jail, I laid low, moved to the next town over, opened up my own bar, got a farm, and here I am.” He gazes down at you, his eyes soft and oh-so tender. “I came back here for you. To tell you how sorry I was and make sure that you’re happy.” 

You ignore the way your stomach flips at his consideration, not buying it. “Happy with someone else, you mean.” He flinches slightly at your sharp tone; you’re all knives and daggers tonight. “I was selfishly hopin’ you weren’t,” he sheepishly replies. “I wanna be the one to make you happy. To take care of you. To give you the life you’ve always dreamed of.” 

He looks away then, his fists tightening at his sides. “But I knew I couldn’t do that, even back then. I couldn’t give you a steady, safe life that a good girl like you deserved. So I loved you from afar.” 

You feel the tears well up in your eyes now, all of your emotions pouring over. “And you didn’t think to tell me this? To try and reach out to me?” Suguru scowls at you, his jaw tight. “And just what would you have said? You would’ve given this—”he motions towards the house, at the gorgeous hedges—“all up and came with me?”

“Yes!” you snap, the answer tearing from your chest. “I would’ve gone anywhere with you if you would’ve asked me, Suguru!” But he isn’t buying it, his pierced tongue clucking. “C’mon, peaches,” he wryly chuckles. “Don’t tell me shit that ain’t true. You can’t tell me you would’ve given up your future for a life of robbin’ and stealin’ with your criminal boyfriend.” 

You don’t answer, mostly because you don’t want to admit that he’s right. “So what now?” you scoff, widening your arms. “You just here to rub salt in the wound? If you are then you can leave.” 

The tears drip down your face now, ruining your makeup. “I knew you’d never stay, but I still hoped,” you softly say, your words broken. “I was a stupid girl, but I’m not like that no more, Suguru.” 

You try to turn away from him, but he stops you, gripping your shoulders. “You were never stupid,” he growls, his violet eyes blazing with passion. “You were the most intelligent, capable, beautiful girl I’ve ever had the honor of bein’ with. You stole my heart, peaches, and it’s still yours…if you want it.” 

He gently takes your hands from your arms locked against your chest and tenderly kisses your knuckles. “I’m here for you. Only you. And I’m prepared to show you that anyway you want me to.” Slowly, he leans in, and you can only utter his name before his lips are finally on yours. Soft. Sweet. Familiar. 

It is a kiss you longed for with lips you’ve craved for years. No matter how many boys you kissed in your four years at Ivy League and two years as a graduate, spending nights at the hottest clubs and rubbing elbows with the richest, hottest bachelors, nobody compared to your Suguru. Your favorite outlaw. The one man you never should’ve gotten involved with, but you knew the very moment you met him outside of that bar on his horse that he’d be in your life forever, present or not. 

All of the memories of your past together come rushing back as he cups your cheek in his big hand. You resist the urge to lean into his touch, but it’s so damn hard. You’ve felt starved without it, trying to replicate it with other men but only being disappointed. But now, here it is again, just as needed as air and water. 

When he pulls away, his eyes are hooded and adoring, staring down into yours from underneath his hat. Slowly, you pull it off, wanting to see all of him. “So you wanna steal my heart again?” you whisper against his lips. A slow grumble of agreement leaves his mouth, making heat pool in your tummy. “If you let me, hell yeah. I’ll lock it down and throw away the key.” 

You shiver in delight, having wanted to hear that for years. The bottle holding every ounce of love you’ve carried around for this man pops open, bursting out of the glass. You need him now, unable to contain it anymore. Unable to wait. 

You grip the collar to his vest, pulling him close and emitting a surprised grunt from him. “Then show me now. Prove to me that you can be the man I want.” He blinks at you, those long lashes fanning against his cheeks. “Right here?” he asks. 

“Right here,” you reply, full of passion and need. “No one’s comin’ out here…and if they do, let ‘em see.” You’re done appeasing your family. Done pushing what you want off to the side. You wrap your arms around your cowboy, kissing him slow and wanton, making him moan against your lips. 

His hands find your ass, holding you close as he squeezes your asscheeks over your dress. His lips begin to caress your throat and collarbone, peppering it in wet kisses that leave you breathless. “I missed you, Sugu,” you whisper. He groans at your words as if they are his kryptonite. “I missed you too, baby,” he sighs into your neck. “Let me show you how much.” 

It doesn’t take long for things to take a turn, leading to something hotter and deeper than just chaste kisses and secret touches in the gardens. Behind the humongous rose hedges, Suguru’s big hands glide down your sides to lift up your dress, his eyes firmly locked on yours. 

You’re like a damn popsicle with the way you’re melting from his molten gaze as he hikes the luxurious fabric up on your thighs, exposing your lace panties to him. He whistles at the sight, making you giggle. As you gently place his hat aside on a nearby bench, he kneels before you, widening your thighs to gaze at the soaked spot your pussy left. 

“Fuck, mama,” he groans. “You’re so wet already f’me.” He takes two thick fingers and rubs you through your panties, right on your clit. You groan, loving how he knows just exactly how to still touch you after all this time. “Anybody else been gettin’ that pussy wet?” he huskily asks, staring up at him. Those city slicks or any other country boy like me?” 

You feel yourself gush at his slick words, sweetened by his thick Southern accent. He leans in to kiss your panties, right above your clit, causing it to throb against his mouth. “Sugu,” you groan. “Please don’t tease.” His violet eyes tick up to meet yours, firm and fiery. “Then tell me the truth. I wanna know if some other man has been makin’ you feel this way.” 

He nips at your pantyline, the graze of his teeth driving you to the brink of insanity. “Nobody,” you whimper. “No other man but you.” And you’re telling the truth: there’s been no one who can make you this wet but him. He smiles at your confession, flashing you those pearly whites. “That’s my darlin’. And no other man will.” 

With that, he kneels before you and hikes your leg up over his shoulder. He pulls your panties aside, groaning at the sight of your wetness sticking your pussy lips to the fabric, soft and glistening wet. He gives you one more hot look of lust before his tongue is dipping between your folds. 

Suguru has eaten you out many times before. He has made you moan, cry, and scream to the heavens with that pierced tongue of his, giving you hot and cold at the same time. In between his sheets throughout your high school days, sneaking out of the house late at night or in between free periods, you’d spend your hours studying the way his tongue feels on your clit or how soft his lips are. 

You have to fire up every brain cell to keep your moans soft and hushed, not wanting to alert anyone at the party. But fuck, do his lips and tongue feel like heaven. Every suck on your clit and flick of his tongue in your folds breaks off a piece of your self-control, making you ruin his ponytail by carding through his scalp. “Fuck, Sugu, baby!” you gasp, your toes curling in your heels when he suckles on your rosebud in a way that has your eyes rolling back. 

He peers up at you, a cocky smirk on those lush lips. “Hush now, darlin’. Don’t wanna alert your aunt and them fancy folk, do ya?” He licks his thumb and begins to rub your clit, earning soft whimpers out of you. “Or maybe you do. Maybe you want ‘em all to see you get your pussy tongued down by your outlaw.” 

And then his tongue is sliding through your folds and inside you, slow and careful, your juices dripping freely onto his tongue. Your mouth falls agape as pleasure grips you. Your head falls back against the wall of the hedge behind you, a broken moan leaving your lips. “Shit!” you moan, your eyes squeezing shut against the explosive pleasure. “Fuck, Sugu, yes! Right there!” 

He pulls away enough to speak, still rubbing your clit, earning soft, wet sloshes coming from your wet pussy. “Right here, babydoll?” he asks. “That feel good?” 

You frantically nod, your eyes squeezed shut tight. “Uh-huh!” you whine, panting in time with his wicked tongue flicks. 

“Uh-huh?” he parrots, practically growling the word between his eager pussy-eating. “Then fuckin’ cum for me. I know you’re close.” 

He replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking on your clit, making your body throb in pleasure. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums approvingly, keeping up the pace. He continues to work your pussy just how you want, making you see stars behind your eyelids and softly cry to the moon above. 

It doesn’t take long for that feeling of release to dawn on you, that need gripping you at your core the more your cowboy sucks and eats your pussy straight off the fucking bone. “O-Oh, fuck, I’mma cum!” you gasp, squeezing his locks tight in your fingers. “S-Sugu…y-you’re gonna make me…!” Your words cut off on some desperate gasps that you have to stifle by covering your mouth. 

“Cum for me,” he growls into your pussy. “Give me what I need. Cum for me, babydoll, I’ve got you.” Finally, that knot in your core finally snaps and a wave of euphoria washes over you as you cum all over his face and eager lips with a loud moan. You see the entire galaxy and beyond as your pussy gushes, your body shivering and shuddering. 

Your back arches and your hips wind into Suguru’s face, trying to keep as much as the pleasurable feeling as possible. You scream his name into your hand, your muscles tensing from the sheer pleasure. When it finally fades, you’re left feeling tired, spent, and oh-so good. 

After gently cleaning your cum up, Suguru pulls away with a satisfied sigh and grins at you, lips shining in your honey. “Not bad for a couple years, right?” he cheekily asks. Slowly, he stands, giving you a view of his noticeable hard print beneath his slacks. You smirk, shrugging. “Eh…you were alright.” 

SPANK!

“Ah!” you gasp, mouth agape at the harsh smack on your ass. Suguru raises his pierced brow at you, challenging your brattiness. “Don’t test me now, peaches. I may love your ass, but I don’t got a problem trainin’ that brat in you.” 

You stop short, clocking his words. Suddenly, your heart begins hammering and it feels like the entire garden has gotten smaller. He blinks at you, confused. “You love me?” you whisper. He’s never said it before; this is the first time and it feels like a whole new world has been opened up to you. 

Suguru chuckles like it should be so obvious, smiling tenderly. “Of course I do, babydoll. I would’ve wanted to say it somewhere more romantic, but–mmph!” His words are interrupted when you toss yourself at him, kissing him passionately. He groans as you rub yourself against his bulge, igniting another ache in your pussy. “I love you too, Suguru,” you whisper against his lips. “I always have.” You then slink to your knees, giving him a sexy smile as you do. “Let me show you how much,” you purr. 

The look Suguru gives you from above is downright porn as you loosen the belt holding his pants up, exposing his briefs. He pops the buttons to his vest and the crisp shirt underneath, exposing his toned body and tan skin inked in tattoos underneath. You peel the fly to his briefs open and grasp him, earning a soft moan as soon as our fingers wrap around his dick.

You pull him out and he pops up like a Jack-in-the-Box, hard, thick, and veiny.  You salivate at the hard, thick dick in your hand, right along with the fine black happy trail and lipstick tattoo inked on his right hipbone. You kiss there, trailing along his toned stomach and V-line as you pump his dick in your hand. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” you pant. He breathlessly chuckles, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “For you? Absolutely, baby.” 

Deciding you’ve got him right where you want him, you spit into the palm of your hand and pump him more, lubing him up, making him shine in your spit. Once he’s moaning and groaning, you finally wrap your lips around him and suck. “Jesus!” he hisses, nearly tipping back into the hedges. “Give a guy a minute, darlin’, sh-sh-shit!” 

He stammers as you begin to bob your head, making you giggle against his cock. He groans at the vibrations from your laughter, your tight, wet mouth sucking him in. You can’t help but want more of him, his salty pre-cum coating your tastebuds. “Mmmm,” you moan, voicing your satisfaction over his taste. 

How you missed this. How you missed his cock. He seems to have missed your mouth too judging by how much he’s throbbing. And how hard he’s gripping your hair, tangling your loose locks in his hand. “Goddamn,” he groans. “So much for that dress. You’re fuckin’ trouble, peaches, fuck.” 

You tick your eyes up to meet his as you bring your mouth down further, engulfing him deeper. He grunts as he brushes the back of your throat, your gurgling practically making him jump out of his skin. “Mmm, that’s it! Take me deeper!” he groans. “You know just what to do with it, don’t you?” 

Showing him that you absolutely do, you gag around his cock as you begin to bob your head up and down, emitting groans and swears from his sinful lips. His moans and words are so hot that you feel your pussy throb and gush in your ruined panties, desperate for attention. You have to rub your slit as you gag on Suguru’s dick, his silky voice and thick cock your aphrodisiacs. “Gag on that shit, baby,” he grunts. “Take it. It’s fuckin’ yours.” 

He continues to whisper praise as you gag and bob around him, using your free hand to stroke his balls. You ignore the ache of your knees in the grass and the tears pricking at your eyes, ruining up your eye makeup. The control he allows you makes you want to give him the best throat of his life, coaxing the nut right out of him. 

He begins to thrust into your mouth, his hips bumping against your chin as his cock fucks your throat. “Still doin’ okay, babydoll?” he asks. You  nod, emitting a moan from him when the roof of your mouth slides along his dick. “God, you look so good with my dick in your mouth,” he whines. “Wouldn’t it be somethin’ if someone came out here and saw me fuckin’ this pretty throat?” 

You tilt your head up to look up at him, loving the view of his body as he bumps your hips against your face. Spit drips from your lips the sloppier your head gets, only making him fuck your face harder. “You like that idea, don’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly. “Naughty girl. You wanna be seen on your knees with dick deep down your throat?” 

‘Yes,’ you think, your pussy crying beneath you. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ 

You want that more than anything. You don't care how slutty that makes you. You want to be his slut tonight. You want to be his everything and more. So you gag and suck harder, causing him to thrust deeper. “Ngh—gonna make me fuckin’ cum, darlin’,” he groans. “You want that, hm? You want my fuckin’ cum?”

“Mmm-hmm!” you eagerly hum, batting your pretty lashes at him. You want him to dump a fresh load of spunk deep down your throat. And after a few more thrusts that knock the air out of you, his moans grow more intense, drifting through the summer air thick with perfume ad sex. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m cummin’!” he gasps. “Gonna breed that fuckin’ throat!” 

And finally, a rush of hot cum escapes him and enters your throat, shooting all over your tongue, giving you a nice throatpie built up just for you over the years. You hum as he moans in pleasure, his eyes rolling back at the euphoric feeling you give him. After a few gulps and slurps to clean him up, you pull away, sucking him off of your fingers. 

He stares at you, his chest rising and falling, his pierced nipples glistening in the moonlight.

“That was rusty, babydoll?” he pants, raising a brow at you. 

You giggle as he helps you stand on wobbly legs, unfortunately causing your slick to drip down your thighs. “Glad I could please,” you purr. Before you can say more or even give him a kiss, Suguru has you whipping around to face away from him. 

“Oh!” you gasp, placing your hands on the bench in front of you. You assume position as your cowboy stands behind you, smacking his semi-hard cock up against your ass, rubbing it against your supple cheeks to get himself hard again. “Not enough,” he grunts. “I need all of you again. Need to make up for lost time.” 

He French kisses you as he rubs himself against your asshole down to your wet slit, moaning into your mouth. It doesn’t take long for him to grow rock hard again, throbbing insistently against your aching entrance. “Tell me you want this,” he whispers. “I won’t go further if you don’t–”

You shut him up with another kiss, sucking on his tongue. “Fuck me, Sugu,” you whisper against his mouth. “Right here, right now. I can’t wait anymore.” You don’t care who sees or what happens next—you just want him now. You could cry with joy as you feel his tip press against your entrance, brushing your clit. “This time, it’ll be different,” he softly promises. “No more runnin’. No more leavin’. I promise you, darlin’.” 

And then he’s sliding inside of you, silencing every thought of doubt you have ever had. Solidifying his promise. He groans out, “Shit” as you breathlessly moan, taken aback by how he fits so nice and snug after all this time. You close your eyes as hot pleasure skates through you, making you grip Suguru’s arm locked tight around your stomach. 

“Look at me,” he hoarsely demands. “Watch me fuck you. Watch me give you everythin’ I have.” You turn to stare into his eyes as he draws his hips forward, thrusting his cock in you, before drawing his hips back. He continues to do that, giving you slow, deep strokes that draw ragged breaths out of you, desperate and hushed. 

Suguru’s eyes hold nothing but love and lust as he slowly fucks you between the rose hedges, the sweet aroma of the flowers mixing with your perfume, his cologne, and your sex. The stars and the flowers are your witnesses to your forbidden love and sex, staying silent and watching as your cowboy fucks you the only way he can. 

“Suguru,” you softly moan. “Please more. Fuck me more!” You can’t take this slow shit anymore. You need it hard and fast. You need to feel this. He smirks against your cheek, one hand skating up to squeeze your tits, ripping your dress away from them to have them hang free. “My baby wants more?” he murmurs. “I’ll give you more then.” 

So he fucks you hard and fast, making you bounce back against his cock. You have to bend your knees to accommodate his thrusts and cover your mouth to keep from yelling in pure ecstasy. His dick just feels too fucking good! It stretches you; massages you; knocks every doubt and regret out of your mind until you can barely remember anything but how good you feel. 

“Fuck, Suguru, yes! Fuck me just like that!” Your cries and dirty words are muffled by your hand, making Suguru smile proudly as he fucks you dumb in doggy. “My, my, what naughty language,” he chuckles, giving your nipple a tweak. “Ain’t you supposed to be a lady?” 

You decide to tease him back and toss your ass back, slamming your pussy down as he thrusts forward, making him gasp. “You fuckin’ minx,” he growls. “You almost made me cum.” His hand finds your ass, gripping it possessively, just as your pussy throbs excitedly at the idea of making him cum for you. 

“You can if you want to,” you whisper, wanting his cum more than anything. You want him to snatch your pussy for himself like he did years ago, make it his again. You want his spunk imprinting and marking its territory as his and his alone…maybe even with a baby. Or perhaps, you’re just cock-drunk. 

But as soon as you utter those words, you’ve opened up Pandora’s Box. Suguru is quick as lightning, pulling his hard cock out of you and smacking it against your clit. “Turn around,” he demands. “You wanna act like a slut, then you’ll get fucked like one.” He gives your ass a sharp smack before you turn around, coaxed to grip onto him like a koala bear. 

As soon as you’re dangling off of his body, he grips you to him, holding onto your ass as he slides his cock right back inside while you’re airborne. “Fuck!” you both gasp when he slides in to the hilt, his abs stroking against your clit as he begins to fuck you again. “That’s my good girl,” he moans into your ear. “Takin’ me so well after all this time…”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he pistons his hips just right, making you bounce on his dick so he sinks deeper and deeper inside you. Your cowboy stares dead into your eyes as he fills you up over and over again, knocking the air out of your body with each thrust. “Does it feel good? Am I fuckin’ this pussy just right?” 

As if your breathless moans and gasps aren’t answers to his question. You can’t even speak, too busy moaning like a little slut on his thick cock repeatedly fucking your dripping pussy. Every thrust hits that spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back and your muscles tighten in anticipation of an intense orgasm. “Yes, Sugu, yes! Fuck me! I’m so, so close!” 

You can feel it building, building, building inside of you, ready to overflow and spill over all onto Suguru’s big, thick, beautiful cock. 

“Me too, darlin’,” he groans. “Fuck, I can’t hold on for too much longer.” He swears through a stammering breath as his thrusts grow more intense, fully holding you up with every ounce of his strength to fuck you standing. It is the hottest thing you have ever experienced in your life. He locks eyes with you, desperation on his handsome face. “W-Where do you want me to–?” 

“Inside me!” you beg. The words are out before you can stop them, but you don’t even think you would if you could. Suguru blinks at your request, his eyes widening an inch. “You serious?” he asks. You don’t blame him for his reaction. It ain’t everyday that your on-again-off-again girlfriend who re-enters your life asks for you to possibly dump a baby in her during your first fuck. 

But the idea of being Suguru’s baby mama is too good of a title to pass up. You want to carry his child, only because you know this time things will be different. “I’ve never been more serious of anythin’ in my life,” you softly moan. You tighten your thighs around your outlaw’s slim waist, keeping him locked inside of you. “I love you, Suguru. I want this.” 

Then you grind back, making him bite back a loud moan as your pussy clamps down on him. “F-Fuck!” the outlaw groans, his handsome face flushed red from the pleasure and feverish thrusting. “You’re gonna make me cum, peaches. You’re p-playin’ with fire here.” 

You give a slutty little giggle, happy to continue to tease him to get what you want. What you need. “Then let me get burned,” you purr into his ear, pausing to suck on his earlobe. “Cum inside me, Daddy. Make me yours.” Your soft lips begin to travel down his neck, your tongue jutting out to lick his throat. 

Your slutty ministrations make something burst out of Suguru, causing him to slow his thrusts and lower you down to your feet. He grips your chin in his hand, making your cheeks squish together like a fish’s. The look he gives you is hot with lust and a possessive energy that makes your pussy gush. “So you want me to steal that pussy the same way I did your heart?” he murmurs, smirking. “I can do that.”  

You’re damn near melting as he plants a kiss on your lips, craving more of his body; his cock; his everything. Slowly, he leads you over to the bench and takes a seat, planting you firmly in his lap. “But you’ve gotta put in the work.”

He sits back then, his hard cock on full display for you, one hand wrapped around himself to slowly pump his shaft in your face. “Ride me till we both cum, baby. Take what’s been yours all these years.” 

And so you do. As he sits on the bench, you sit in his lap…well, not really. You’re too busy bouncing on his dick with his cowboy hat on your head, your ass smacking against his muscular thighs in tie with the wet squelching of your pussy clenched around his fat dick. “Fuck,” he groans. “You’re still s-so good, babydoll.” 

He grips your ass tight under your dress, helping you slam your pussy down onto his rock or rock into him to swipe your clit against his abs. At some point, he licks his digits and begins rubbing your slippery clit for you, sending sparks of pleasure exploding and crackling in every sensitive spot of your body.

The moans he lets out and the look on his face are too much for you, propelling you further towards your delicious end. “Sugu, baby! Fuck, I can’t hold on! I’m gonna cum!” You grip his broad shoulders and hop up and down on your knees, bringing yourself up and down his dick, his pre-cum and your honey slipping down his balls and over your asscrack. 

Suguru is a panting, grunting mess, doing his very best to keep his sounds down, but goddamn, you’re riding him too good! “M-Me too. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up!” 

You can feel it–his dick has begun to swell inside of you, throbbing with the need to explode. You cup his pretty face in your hands, forcing him to stare dead into your eyes. You need him to see how much you want this. “Cum with me,” you beg. “I need it so bad. Please, Daddy?” You swirl your hips in a way that gives him no choice, causing him to nearly blow your cover as a loud groan escapes him. 

In a flash, he’s taking control and fucking you from the bottom, his thick fingers digging into your asscheeks as he slams himself up home inside of you. Plap-plap-plap goes his thighs against yours, creating a rhythm of sex in the air that mixes so well with your desperate, slutty moans. “So you want me to give ya a baby now?” he hums. “Somethin’ special to take back to the city? Is that it, babydoll, hm?” 

“Yes, yes!” you gasp into the summer air. “Please, Sugu, p-please! A-ah…can’t hold on!” You can feel it building–that intense, blissful feeling that is soon to explode all over you in a burst of pleasure. “Fuckin’ cum for me then,” he growls. “And this ain’t no one time thing either. Wherever you go, I’m comin’ witcha. That’s a fuckin’ promise, peaches.” 

And those words are the catalysts to the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. In Suguru’s beefy, strong arms, you cum your brains out, forgetting your own name and only remembering his. “Fuuuuck, Sugu!” you bellow, your voice ringing out in the summer air, causing Suguru to cover your mouth as you scream out your orgasm. That only makes you cum harder, making your head spin and your pussy squelch, gush, and cream all around your cowboy’s dick. 

After a few more intense thrusts, Suguru cums with a low groan that he bites back, only muttering a few swears and some pet names that have those butterflies swarming in your stomach. He grips you to him like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t, his hands possessively stroking your ass and his face caught in your air, inhaling your shampoo. You gasp and deliriously giggle when you feel him shoot hot loads of spunk into your pussy, officially claiming you as his…and he as yours. Finally. 

After a few short seconds of recovery and soft kisses, Suguru helps you gently pop off of his cock, causing his spunk to trickle down your inner thighs. It’s noticeable even through the slit of your dress, making you giggle. “I’ll probably need to wear that poofy dress now.”

Suguru raises a brow as he begins to dress himself rather quickly, his flaccid cock back in his briefs and his pants on like nothing happened. “The what?” he asks.

You shake your head, still giggling as you help him fix his vest. “Nothin’. I’m just so happy.” You then place his cowboy hat back on his head, fixing it on his hair. He smiles down at you, pausing briefly to kiss your forehead, causing you to lean your head into his chest. “Aww, baby,” he coos. “I’m happy too. You have no idea how much I—” 

Click. 

You gasp at the sudden, harsh flood of light that pierces through the peaceful night, ruining the serene, loving moment. You and Suguru squint into the piercing glow of the flashlight, using your hands to block it. “Geto Suguru! Get your hands off of my niece this instant,” your aunt hisses. “Or Sheriff Higuruma will take care of you.” 

Standing with her is none other than Higuruma Hiromi, the town’s sheriff who you knew was making an appearance at your aunt’s party tonight. In addition to him and your angered aunt is Choso, Yuuji, and a very enraged Naoya who is storming back over to make more of an embarrassment of himself. And in addition to Naoya is the entirety of the party, staff included, watching from the windows and eavesdropping on the veranda. Oh, fuck.

Despite the awful situation, Suguru remains cool as a cucumber, smirking at the angered doctor barreling towards you and at your enraged aunt with her hands on her hips. “Uh-oh, here comes trouble.” Even though he is the trouble. 

Instinctively, Suguru stands between you and your “visitors” as Naoya comes to join the group, looking drunker than he was earlier. “There he is!” he hollers, pointing at Suguru. “That’s the man that accosted me! You’re lucky I didn’t get the cops, asshole!” 

Sheriff Higuruma yawns, looking positively bored and over what is happening right now. Your aunt looks close to crashing out…and at her old age, this would be a death sentence, you’re sure. “Y/N, get over here this instant,” she snaps. “And you.” She jabs a finger at Sugruu. “Away with you at once or you will be goin’ to jail! How dare you come here to ruin this fine evenin’?!” 

Standing behind your aunt, Choso’s eyes meet yours. ‘You okay?’ he mouths. You nod, still standing behind Suguru, not wanting to leave him. Higuruma turns to your aunt, finally turning off the flashlight. “Sorry, but what exactly am I here for?” he asks, looking utterly tired and confused. 

Your aunt blinks at him, gobsmacked, and only gets angrier. “For this man pawin’ my niece!” she snaps. Naoya glares at the sheriff, turning red in the face. “And harassing me! Have you not been listening?” Higuruma glares at the doctor, peeved by his self-importance just as you are. 

Suguru loudly clears his throat, grabbing their attention. “Excuse me, ma’am.” He tips his hat at your aunt, respectful despite such scorn. “Apologies, but I didn’t mean no harm to you or your fine guests. I just wanted to–” 

“What?” your aunt sharply interrupts him, her eyes narrowed. “You wanted to sneak into my party and snatch all of our priceless gems from right under our noses? Do you truly think we are that stupid?” Suguru is silent, but you can feel the irritation radiating off of him in waves. 

“And you!” she continues, glaring daggers at you. “Comin’ out here to canoodle with a common thief and criminal! Don’t you know who this man is?!” Momentarily, you meet Choso’s eyes, wondering if you should come clean about your past secret fling with Suguru all those years ago. But before you can, your aunt continues to criticize and publicly embarrass you. 

“I cannot believe you ran out on such a fine man for this trash!” she explodes, motioning towards Suguru as if he’s no more than dirt. “Honestly, you cannot be my niece and be this–” 

“Did that fine man tell you what he said to me?” you argue, glaring at Naoya. “He tried to get me to go upstairs with him.” The doctor’s face grows beet red from your words, his expression like a bulldog’s. “You little liar. I knew you’d be out here.” He begins to storm towards you, hissing out so only you and Suguru will hear: “How dare you embarrass me like this, you little harlot?!”

Higuruma and Suguru are stopping him immediately. Suguru totally shields you with his body while Higuruma puts out his arm, stopping Naoya short from his tirade. “Don’t talk to her like that,” Suguru growls at the doctor. He then turns to your aunt, firm. “She has no fault in this, ma’am. It’s all me. Any anger you have should be towards me.” 

But your aunt is not swayed, still narrowing her eyes at the cowboy. “You should’ve stayed exactly where you were: out of this town!” she bellows. Before she can say more, Higuruma’s deep, authoritative voice cuts in. “Alright, enough. Either we resolve this like logical folks or someone is gettin’ arrested.” 

At the mention of jail, ice pits in your stomach. Not for yourself, but for Suguru. You can’t afford to lose him again or for him to lose more years of his life when he just got them back! As if hearing your thoughts, he reaches back to squeeze your hand, firm and protective. “Forgive me, ma’am,” he says, nodding respectfully at your aunt. “You’re right. I’ll be takin’ my leave now.”

Leave? You stare at him as he releases your hand and smacks his thigh, calling for Penny. You feel your body humming with desperation to follow, your hands shaking.

Your aunt harrumphs in satisfaction, arms crossed over her chest. “Good riddance. Now let’s get you back inside. You’ve got a lot of explainin’ to do, missy.” You turn to her and to Naoya, your blood boiling at the smug smirks on their faces. 

Your eyes shift to Choso and Yuuji, your only saviors right now, and to your hope, Choso gives you a slight nod while Yuuji shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Go ahead, sis. Tell ‘em!’

So with your fists balled at your sides and your back straightened, you finally face your aunt head on. No more fear. No more expectations. No more going against what you want. 

“No,” you firmly reply. The word is final, crystalized in the air. Your aunt’s angered expression softens, turning to utter shock. “I’m sorry, Auntie, but I can’t. Not when the man I’ve loved for years is back in my life.” The woman looks like she’s about to fall out at the new revelation. “What?! What in the blazes are you talkin’ about, child?!”

You turn to Suguru who is already looking at you. Waiting for you on the road, his hand on Penny’s reins. You feel nothing but a burst of love and an unending certainty that this is the right thing to do. 

“I mean I’m spendin’ the night with my man,” you giggle, earning a horrified gasp from your aunt’s mouth. “And then he’s comin’ back to the city with me in the fall.” You blow your aunt and brothers a kiss as you twirl on your heels and walk towards Suguru, hyperfocused on him and only him. “Don’t wait up for me, y’all! Enjoy the party!” 

You can hear the distant chatter of your audience as you strut over to your cowboy, sexy and silently watching you, a smile on his face. He takes a hold of your hips and places you up on Penny’s back before he slips in front of you, settling onto the saddle. As you giggle and wrap your arms around his waist, your aunt pushes Choso up to the horse, desperate. “Choso, do somethin’!” she snaps. “Stop your sister!” 

Choso stumbles forward and stares up at Suguru, silently sizing the cowboy up with firm eyes. Your heart flip-flops, afraid that he’ll be the one to follow your aunt’s orders and put a stop to this. “You’d better take care of her,” he firmly mutters. “If you break her heart again, I’ll kill you.” 

As your aunt splutters in shock, you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding, relief flooding you. Suguru nods, tipping his hat in respect to your older brother. “Understood. You won’t have to worry ‘bout that again.” With that, Choso nods and steps back, allowing you to be with your man. 

Suguru tips his hat at the crowd, giving them a toothy smile. “Sorry ‘bout stealin’ her from y’all, but I just couldn’t help myself. Have a good night!” And with one click of the reins, Penny stands up on her hind hooves and whines before tottering off down the path away from the party. Away from your old life as you knew it. 

You tighten your arms around Suguru’s waist, pressing your face into his back muscles from behind. “So you really think the city wants a country boy like me?” he chuckles. 

You peer up at his handsome face from the side, pecking him on the cheek. “Only one way to find out,” you purr. “I don’t leave till September. You’ve got plenty of time to decide.”

The cowboy snorts, raising your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles as the summer air whips past your face. “I already have. Shit, you could’ve told me you were goin’ to Mars, peaches; I'd follow you to the end of the earth, don’t you know?” 

THE END.

[You]: are you fucking serious right now? i had to find out from HER?

[My Husband 🥰]: what are you talking about?

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

[My Husband 🥰]: babe pick up the phone

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

[My Husband 🥰]: what the fuck are you even talking about? find out WHAT???

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

[My Husband 🥰]: BABE

[My Husband 🥰]: PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

The only reason why the phone calls stopped was because you blocked him, but he would’ve kept calling until his phone died. It’s happened before.

Soon you get a Zelle notification.

R. Sukuna has sent you $200.00.

Memo: unblock me.

You sent R. Sukuna $20.00.

Memo: you can keep your fucking money

R. Sukuna has sent you $20.00.

Memo: you can’t just tell me to keep my money but then pocket more than half of it. and what the fuck am i gonna do with 20 dollars??

You sent R. Sukuna $2.00.

Memo: and now you have 2, see what happens when you don’t appreciate what you have?

R. Sukuna has sent you $2.00.

Memo: what the fuck does that even mean?? can you just unblock me already?

You sent R. Sukuna $0.50.

Memo: no

R. Sukuna has sent you $100.00.

Memo: JESUS FUCKJNGCHRIST UNBLOCK ME

You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.

Memo: NO

You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.

Memo: we’re out of sugar and creamer btw don’t forget to grab some on your way home

R. Sukuna has sent you $100.00.

Memo: wait so im not in trouble?

You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.

Memo: why would you be in trouble?

How To Join: Just shoot me a DM/comment with your idea and I’ll add it below! There’s no due date lol just let me know when you finish and post it with "No Fairytale Collab" in the tags/link this post in your fic!

Rules: 18+ (MDNI). JJK Characters ONLY (*A character that is a minor in the show/manga MUST BE AGED UP!*)

—You may do multi characters x reader fics too!

—NSFW and SFW fics allowed.

—Dark themes are allowed but please run them by me first!

—Repeat characters & fairytales are allowed. Multi fics are allowed (you can submit more than one).

Hard Limits: NO SCAT, AGE PLAY, RELIGION PLAY, RACE PLAY OR SNUFF!

AU Type: Role Swap; Gender Swap; Princess x Knight; Hybrid x Human; Crackships lol, etc.

Word Count: 1k—Beyond

Took a Wrong Turn 🐺🧺 (by jazzthatonewriterchick) - Big Bad Wolf!Toji x Red Riding Hood!Reader

꒰ ੭⭒ Midnight⭒੭ ꒰ 🕛 (by @madamechrissy) - Prince!Gojo x Cinderella!Reader

Geto Knows Best! 💜 (by @indiewritesxoxo) - Yandere!Geto x Rapunzel!Reader

The Heart of a Monster 🌹💛 (by jazzthatonewriterchick) - Beast!Nanami x Princess!Reader

Silver Lining 🏰 (by @notnowkittenwhisker) - Prince!Sukuna x Cinderella!Reader

Slumbering Desires ✨ (by @laylathegoddesss) - Evil Fairy!Naoya x Aurora!Reader x Prince Philip!Toji

o sol e a lua ☀️🌙 (by @mimimochis) - Sun!Satoru x Moon!Reader

Once Upon A Dream 🩵🧹 (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Prince!Choso x Cinderella!Reader

Bathing the Beast 💛🫧 (by @nanamincreampie) - Beast/True Form!Sukuna x Belle!Reader

Love at First Sight 👸 (by @laylathegoddesss) - Prince!Gojo x Cinderella/Princess!Reader

Just Right For All Three 🐻 (by @laylathegoddesss) - BearHybrid!ChosoTojiSukuna x Goldilocks!Reader

Sleeping (Breeding) Beauty 🛏️ (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Evil Prince/Yandere!Sukuna x Aurora!Reader

MAKE A MAN OUTTA YOU! (by @xchosos-wifex) - General!Toji x Mulan!Reader

TBA (by @preciousamethyst) - Knight!Choso x Dragon!Reader

TBA (by @notnowkittenwhisker) - Flynn Rider!Toji x Rapunzel!Reader

TBA (by @myluckyluv) - Captain Hook!Toji x Tinkerbell!Reader

TBA (by @cocoadropp)

TBA (by @preciousamethyst) - Dragon!Sukuna x Princess!Reader

The Girl Who Cried Wolf! 🐺 (by @its-luna-noel) - Local Hero!Gojo x Villager!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Sukuna)

A Love Deeper Than the Sea 🌊 (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Pirate!Nanami x Mermaid!Reader

Bippty Boppity Ooo~ 🩵✨ (by @btchitsbigboogie) - Fairy Godmother!Gojo X Cinderella!Reader

Part Of Your World 🔱🫧 (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Naga/Merman!Geto x Princess!Reader

TBA (by @amalainse) - Beast/True Form!Sukuna and Alchemist!Belle!Reader

TBA (by @btchitsbigboogie) - King!Choso x Maleficent!Reader

TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Hercules!Yuuji x Megara!Reader

MORE TO CUM! 💋

How To Join: Just comment below or shoot me a DM! You can tell me your idea later and I'll add it below! There is no due date. Just let me know when you post your story & tag the collab in your post! (Need A Hero or Villain Collab)

Rules: JJK Characters ONLY.

-NSFW and SFW allowed. Multi fics allowed (you can write more than one fic).

-Reader x multi character fics allowed.

-Dark themes are allowed BUT please run them by me first! (9/10 I'll be down for it lol).

-Repeat characters allowed too!

Hard Limits: NO SCAT PLAY, RACE PLAY, AGE PLAY, CONVERSION PLAY OR SNUFF!

🃏Insane for your love🃏 (by @laylathegoddesss) - Joker!Choso x Bimbo Therapist!Reader

Captain Save A Ho! ❤️💙 (by @yorikae) - Superman!Gojo x Assistant!Reader

Caught between the capes?! (by @laylathegoddesss - Superman!Gojo x Catwomen!Reader x Batman!Toji

Codeword: F.U.C.K.M.E. (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Nightwing!Gojo x Spy!Reader x Redhood!Geto

TBA (by @yorikae) - Deadpool!Gojo x Wolverine!Reader

TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Superman!Gojo x Reporter!Reader

Spider-Man Is My Hot Roommate?! (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Spideygojo/Roommate!Gojo x Black Cat!Reader

TBA (@its-luna-noel) - Captain America!Gojo x Winter Soldier!Reader

Cat Got Ya Tongue, Handsome? (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Batman!Higuruma x Catwoman!Reader

TBA (by @lostsoulolol) - Nightwing!Toji x Reader

TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - College Nerd!Choso x Starfire!Reader

TBA (by @jazzthatonewriterchick) - Deadpool!Gojo x Nerd!Reader x Wolverine!Nanami

TBA (by @angeliqueprincesa) - College Student/Spiderman!Yuuji x Reader

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderwoman (by @h3avenlyglory) - Spiderman! Gojo x Spiderwoman! Reader

MORE TO CUM! JOIN ME! 💋

“You should get your tits pierced,” Satoru huffs out, looking up at you where you’re currently straddling him, gliding up and down on his thick cock. His eyes are fixed on your pretty chest bouncing for him each time you lift your hips, then sink back down on him, moaning as he stretches you out all over again. “They’d look so cute with a couple of little rings through them,” he grunts out as you grind yourself down on him, the tip of his cock bumping up against your cervix in that way that makes you dumb.

“Y-yeah?” You asked, lifting your hips to pull almost all the way off him only to sink quick. His thick shaft glides deep into you easily from how soaked you are. He’s been teasing your clit for the better part of an hour, playing a game of getting right to the edge of all you can take and pulling back before you actually fall into that dark abyss of pleasure. “Think so, baby?” You ask, your hips moving like sin.

He nods eagerly, white locks shifting with each jerky movement. “Hah, so cute, so fun to suck on,” he gasps as you swirl your hips in a mean circle. Suddenly, he sits up, hands going to your back to support you as he tilts you back just enough to capture one of your pert little nipples in his mouth. Alternating between sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it, he draws a little whine from your lips. His teeth graze over the sensitive peak, earning a whine, your back arching for him. When he releases it, he presses a quick little kiss to the other neglected bud and repeats the process. Now that both nipples are sufficiently attended to, he lies back down, his big hands sliding over to your hips and sinking into the soft flesh. “They’re pretty fun to suck on as is,” he adds, a cheeky smile on his lips, blue eyes both dark with lust and twinkling with mischief, “Do it all day if you let me.”

What an idiot. Your idiot, but still an idiot. “Yeah, I’ll bet you would,” you say derisively, rolling your eyes at him, but the next thing you know, he’s lifting his hips and driving so hard up into you that a moan is ripped from your mouth, eyes rolling back. The hands on your curves guide you up and down, holding you still as needed. Somehow, even though you’re on top, he’s still the one in control. That’s alright though; you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Don’t be a brat, baby,” Satoru coos, repeating the motion, shoving his cock so deep in you that you truly understand the meaning of having your guts rearranged. At your next cry—half moan, half scream—he chuckles darkly. “Look at that, where’s that smart mouth now?” Another drive of his hips upward, stuffing you full with his cock, so full you can feel every ridge, every jagged angry vein wrapping around the silken shaft. 

“Fu-fuck you,” you let out, just to be exactly what he just told you not to. 

“Hah, pretty girl, you’re just begging to have your pretty pussy ruined,” he purrs, his breath stuttering when your walls flutter around him. One of his hands releases your hips to slide between your legs and start rubbing filthy, firm circles over your swollen, achy clit. “You wanna come? Ask me nicely. Use your words, baby.”

“S-so mean,” you manage to get out.

“Mean? I’ll show you mean,” Satoru intones, then his fingers pinch your clit, and the orgasm that rips through you has you spasming around his cock, soaking it in your slick. Pleasure floods your body like a tsunami wave, originating from your center. Your thighs are shaking, toes curling, and your hips are bucking like crazy. Satoru’s eyes flick between your expression of bliss and the way your tits bounce while you ride him like your life depends on it. “Look at that, you’re being such a good girl now. No more of that attitude,” he purrs out breathlessly. 

“Ah, Toru, feels so good,” the words are a desperate whimper, your whole body awash in bliss. Your walls clench around him, spasming even tighter around his fat cock than you usually squeeze him for a moment. 

Seconds later, Satoru follows you over the edge, spilling deep inside you. The sensation of his cock twitching and his warm, sticky cum settling in your guts makes you whine. Slowly, you collapse against him, falling into his chest, his arms wrapping around you to stroke the smooth, soft skin of your back. Both of you lay there, Satoru’s cock softening inside you, as you each catch your breath. 

This is the second best part, you know, besides the soul-splintering orgasms. These moments afterward where he holds you in his big, strong arms and you listen to his heartbeat. 

After a while, Satoru hums into your hair and says, “So what do you say?”

“To what?” You ask, brow arching. 

He rolls his eyes and taps you on the nose, making you shoot him a glare, before saying, “To getting your nipples pierced, pretty girl.” He pauses and grins at you. “I was serious about that. I’ll pay for them and everything.”

Satoru has always liked your style. He’s always loved the colorful artwork adorning your body, as well as all your piercings and the rotating shades of your hair. You know because he’s made no secret of it at all. His first words to you ever were, “Hey, I think your industrial piercing is super cool. Name’s Satoru.” Delivered with that cheeky smile you’ve grown to love. The first time the two of you fucked, in his room at his frat house, he made a point of kissing an outline around each of your tattoos. When he reached the one between your tits, he rubbed the tip of his nose over your skin and whispered, “This one’s my favorite.” Of course it was, still is. 

So, his suggestion isn’t entirely out of left field, but you can’t say you’re not surprised he’s requesting things. Nipple piercings. They’re something you’ve considered getting before, but have never actually bitten the bullet. Last year, you got your Medusa done, and Satoru was all about it, though. He went on and on about how cute it looked on you. Maybe getting your tits done wouldn’t be so bad. They do take a while to heal, though; some of your friends have them and have told you about what it’s like. The time isn’t a problem for you, but Satoru? Asking him to go without sucking on your tit would be like asking a bear not to fish salmon from the river.  

“Are you sure you want that?” You ask, to make sure he understands. “They’ll take time to heal, which means your titty privileges will be suspended for at least six months.”

His mouth immediately tugs into a frown. Well, that definitely got his attention. Pretty blue eyes flicking briefly to where your tits are pressed into his skin, he looks back up at you and whines pathetically, “Seriously? Six months? That’s absurd.” Somehow, he looks exactly like a cat who’s been informed their owner has no food to give them. His lower lip juts out, and he mutters petulantly, like this wasn’t his idea to begin with, “Fine. I can deal for six months.”

“Can you though?”

He scoffs and pulls you completely on top of him. The broad expanse of his palm sweeps down your back to your ass, where he grips a firm handful of the soft flesh. “Tch. I’ll just have to find something else to suck on instead,” he mumbles against your neck, without stopping his groping. 

“If you say something weird, I’m gonna strangle you,” you reply seriously, afraid he’ll say something horrible, such as like your toes or like your fingers. The thought sends a shudder down your spine. You wouldn’t put it past him to say something like that just to get a reaction out of you. 

“Kinky,” he shoots back.

“You’re such an idiot.”

♡

The next day you find yourself at your usual tattoo and piercing parlor, Ink Black Hearts. It’s a few blocks from the apartment you share with Satoru, and you’ve been going there for years. The only different thing is that Satoru is accompanying you, which has never happened before. When you walk in, the receptionist, a freshman college student named Maki, with green hair, golden eyes, and a full sleeve down one arm, greets you. 

“Hey, I wanted to do a walk-in consultation with Yuki for a set of nipple piercings,” you say as you walk up to the counter and smile at her. “Any chance she has an opening?”

“Yuki’s out of town on vacation,” Maki replies, “But Choso’s here. He’s between appointments, so he should be able to do the consult. If everything works out, there should be just enough time for him to do the piercing too.”

You’ve never worked with Choso before. Yuki is the only piercer you’ve used here, but it’s just a consultation for now, so you shrug agreeably and say, “That’s fine.” 

“Alright. I’ll let him know. Wait here,” Maki says before disappearing behind the curtain that separates the main parlor from the waiting room. 

As soon as she’s gone, though, Satoru practically drapes himself over you and hisses, “Him? It’s a guy?” His arms wrap around you possessively, tugging your body up against his. 

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Piercing and tattooing are male-dominated fields, baby. My regular piercer is out right now; you just heard it yourself. He’s who they have.” You can’t help the smug undertone in your voice. So what if you like it a little when he’s jealous? So what if maybe, from time to time, you do things on purpose to make him jealous. Like right now you could easily say ‘We’ll just come back when Yuki is available’, but you won’t. Instead you add, “Choose wisely because if we don’t do the consult today, then I’m not getting them done.” Okay, maybe you’re a little toxic, just a tiny bit.

Now, Satoru is really pouting. “You’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses, but he can’t prove it, and you’re sure as hell not going to admit it. 

“No, but Yuki might be booked out pretty far once she gets back from her vacation, so it might be a long-ass wait,” you counter. It’s a valid concern, and most likely true, but he doesn’t need to know that it’s not your only reason for wanting to get it out of the way. 

Just then, Maki parts the curtain and steps into the waiting room. “Choso is good to take a look. You can head back now.”

You arch your brow up at Satoru in silent question. Well, are we going in or waiting? Satoru glances between the curtain and you before shaking his head and mumbling, “Fine, let’s just get it over with.” He sounds decidedly less happy with his plan than he did ten minutes earlier. 

“He’s a professional, Satoru. I don’t think you need to worry,” you say as you start to the back room, but secretly you hope he stares at your tits in a way that makes Satoru that much more jealous and pissed off. “He’ll be too focused on doing his job to be turned on by my tits.”

“No, he won’t,” Satoru argues petulantly.

You roll your eyes and shake your head, but Satoru isn’t bothered in the slightest. He reaches up and parts the curtain for you with his other arm wrapped around you, holding you tight to him. The parlor smells of ink, blood, and sanitizer—a familiar scent. Four tattoo chairs are occupying the small space and one flat adjustable treatment bed. Choso is sitting at the very back, a small desk space for the artists to sketch out their designs or print them in the transferable ink. 

When you and Satoru start walking back, the thud of your overgrown boyfriend’s footsteps makes him look up at you. Dark brown eyes meet yours, and the smudged reddish-purple eyeshadow around them does nothing to hide how tired he looks. He has the look of someone who’s chronically exhausted, but he’s way too young to look like that. He can’t be any older than you or Satoru. An oversized t-shirt hangs loose over his broad shoulders, hiding much of his build, but if his arms are anything to go by, then you’d guess lean, muscular. Two puffs of shaggy brown hair are tied up on his head, giving him an almost innocent appearance. There’s a line tattooed across the bridge of his nose, and he might have a full sleeve as well. His piercings are eye-catching—snake-bites, septum, small gauges, several other ear piercings. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes drag over your body, hovering on your waist, exposed by the crop top and shorts combo you’re wearing, then up to the very tits he’s meant to pierce. Of course, Satoru immediately notices that as well, and the possessive hold he has around you tightens, one long arm wrapping around your middle to splay across your skin in a blatant show of claim. 

“Hey, I’m here for a nipple piercing consultation,” you explain before Satoru can open his mouth and say something ridiculous. 

“Right,” Choso replies, jerking his head in the direction of the tattoo chair, “Take a seat, and, uh, take your shirt bra off. Need to see your anatomy to make sure it’ll work.”

You give him a pretty smile that has Satoru’s fingers digging into your skin. “Oh, I didn’t wear a bra,” you say breezily, like you’ve said you’re gonna grab coffee after. Satoru stiffens behind you, clearly not expecting that either. Oops. You barely manage to shrug your clingy boyfriend off as you walk over to the nearest chair, but eventually he lets you go, however reluctantly. So, he just hovers right behind you. Dropping into the chair, you watch as Choso slowly makes his way over. 

“Lift up—“ Choso starts, but cuts himself off when he sees you’re already doing it.

Your bare tits bounce free, pert little nipples stiff. Choso’s eyes immediately follow them, and he crouches down to get a better look.

“Seriously?” Satoru grouses, leaning over the chair. “Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.”

Choso doesn’t react. In fact, he doesn’t do or say anything, just stares at the plush flesh of your tits, taking in the soft-looking globes. He barely notices Satoru at all. And you’d swear that you see him drag the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. Oh, maybe Satoru was a little right, and the piercer does like your pretty tits. He leans forward a little; whether intentionally or unintentionally is anybody’s guess. 

“I need to feel them to make sure they’ll hold the bar,” he blurts out, voice rough, the tips of his ears and his cheeks turning pink. Cute. Something tells you that he’s a liar, though. He could probably tell from the moment you lifted your shirt if you were a good candidate for the piercings, but there’s something in his eyes that makes you almost certain he just wants an excuse to touch them.

“No way,” Satoru snaps before you can even open your mouth. If he were a cat, he’d be bristling right now.

“He’s just feeling them to make sure he wouldn’t damage them by piercing them,” you coax, gently running your hand up and down his arm. He’s such a jealous baby. “He’s gonna have his hands on them for less than thirty seconds. He’s already seen them. Just let him do his job.” You’re being soft for him, but at the same time, your thighs press together because, fuck, you’re so turned on by this. It only makes you want to push, to make him even more jealous, to see just how far you could go before he snaps.

“But babyyy …” he whines pathetically, “They’re for me.” This fucking guy.  “Supposed to be all mine.” Satoru shoots Choso an irritated look like you getting the nipple piercings wasn’t his own idea. 

Craning your neck to look back at him, you say, “And him touching them for twenty seconds isn’t going to change that.” God, you’re so fucking wet right now, a damp spot forming rapidly in the center of your panties. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking hot when he’s jealous. 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, the irritation rolling off him in waves. “Fine,” he mutters, “But I’m touching them too.” And before you can stop him, he reaches down to cup the flesh of your tits, holding them in his big palms. “Alright, if you have to touch them, then do it now, I guess,” Satoru says, clearly unhappy despite the compromise he came up with. His thumbs stroke slow circles over the soft mounds. 

“Talk about possessive,” Choso says under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. Then he leans forward and pinches one of your nipples between his steady fingers and rolls it delicately. The touch sends a shudder down your spine, which has Satoru’s grip on your tits tightening. 

Leaning forward, he presses his mouth to your ear and breathes, “Little brat, like I didn’t fucking feel that. You’re loving this. You like seeing me all pissed off and jealous, huh?” Then, he scoffs, not even giving you a chance to reply before he’s sucking a wet hickey into your neck as punishment.

Choso’s fingers pause on your nipple, still holding the little bud between his fingers, and he stares up at Satoru with a horrified, disgusted kind of fascination. For just a second, he pinches your nipple a little harder, which makes you whimper.

“Alright, you can take your fucking hands off her,” Satoru immediately snaps after the sound slips from your lips. Fuck, the angrier he gets, the more soaked your panties grow. 

Choso’s hand snaps back like it’s been burned, instantly obeying Satoru on sheer instinct. He blinks up at you two, the flush on his cheeks deepening, and says low and rough, “Yeah, piercing will be fine. I’ll get the shit.” Then, he practically flees. 

Your eyes track Choso as he heads into the back room. As soon as he’s gone, you look back up at Satoru and, like the brat you are, say, “He’s kinda cute.” It’s the truth, but you’re only saying it to piss him off even more. 

Satoru stiffens again, but then his thumbs swipe over the stiff peaks of your nipples, and he leans in close to whisper against your ear, “Watch your mouth, sweetheart, or I’ll have to put you in your place when we get home.” The words are punctuated with a little bite to your earlobe, just hard enough to make you wince at the sting. “Seems like you might need a reminder of who this pretty body belongs to, hmm?” His eyes flick to the door Choso disappeared through before he pinches your little nipples hard enough that you have to bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. The more he talks, the more you want him to bend you over the nearest flat surface or shove you up against the closest wall and fuck you so hard your bones rattle. “See, that’s funny, because last I checked it belongs to me,” you reply with a little bit of an attitude, but your mouth is dry, and your thighs keep pressing together in desperate search of friction. 

Before Satoru has a chance to say anything else, Choso is coming back into the room with supplies in hand—gauze pads, alcohol wipes, packaged sterile needles, and a couple of pieces of plain stainless steel jewelry. He sets all of it down on a tray next to the treatment table and looks over at you, “Lie on the table.”

Satoru scoffs and mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch. But you just smirk and roll your eyes as you push yourself up from the chair and head over to the table. Sliding onto the flat surface, you lie on your back and lift yourself shirt again. Crouching down beside you, Satoru slips his hand into yours, watching like a hawk as Choso rips open the alcohol wipe packages and gently cleans each of your nipples. The cloth is damp, cool, and rough against the sensitive skin. When he’s done sanitizing them, he takes another good look at them before marking the points where he’s going to pierce with a soft-tipped pen. 

When he leans over you, he’s so close that you can feel his breath hitting your skin. It makes your cheeks flush and has you biting back another sound. Your thighs press together again, your panties soaked through at this point. Between Satoru’s jealousy and the way this cute piercer is eyeing up your tits like he wants to suck them until you’re whimpering his name, you’re a fucking mess.

“Do you really have to be so fucking close?” Satoru practically growls, his pretty blue eyes narrowing on Choso. His expression says he’s fighting all of his demons at once right now, and you’re pretty sure he wants to beat the poor guy into a pulp just from having touched or seen your tits.

Without looking up, the man carefully inspecting your breasts replies, too neutral, “Do you want them to be crooked?” 

You have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing. A scoff is Satoru’s only reply, but his hand tightens around yours, and he doesn’t argue. Choso straightens up and grabs something from the tray off to the side. The kkrrrssshhh of the needle package being ripped open is loud in the room somehow, despite the generic rock music playing in the background. 

“Didn’t think so.” Picking up one long, thick needle, Choso leans over you again. Slowly, he reaches out and grasps your left nipple firmly. The pad of his thumb rolls it gently into place, eyes fixed on your soft skin. Once he has it lined up the way he wants, he positions the needle, the pointed tip digging into your skin. “Hold your breath for me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call her sweetheart. She’s not your sweetheart,” Satoru snaps, prompting the poor guy subjected to his jealous pouting to roll his eyes. You just do as asked, staying perfectly still. 

Choso’s eyes never leave your pretty little nipple. No, he ignores Satoru entirely, which only serves to piss your boyfriend off more. “On the count of three,” he says, eyes flicking up to yours briefly before darting down to where he’s holding the needle against your skin. “One, two—“ With no warning, he pierces through your flesh. “That’s it. Good job,” he murmurs, voice low and soothing.

You hiss between your teeth, your hand squeezing hard around Satoru’s, as the sting and the burn hit you. “What the fuck happened to three?” You bite out. 

Choso shrugs and says easily, “You would have tensed up the second I got to three.” He slides the jewelry piece onto the needle and pulls it snugly into the fresh hole. Finally, he screws the ball onto the end. Repeating the process with your right nipple, he has both of them done in less than fifteen minutes. Now, you just have to deal with swollen, screaming nipples for the next month. He tilts his head, eyes darting between each piercing like he’s mentally comparing them, “Nice. They look, ah, great on you.”

“Tch. She doesn’t need you to tell her that,” Satoru pouts, then turning to you he says in a sickeningly sweet tone, “Baby, your tits look so pretty. Makes me wanna put them in my mouth.”

“Yeah, no. Don’t do that,” Choso says firmly, shooting Satoru a pointed look, “No sucking, no pinching, no pulling. Clean with saline in the mornings and before you go to bed. Try and wear clothing that fits well, not too loose, not too tight. Be especially careful drying off from the shower. You don’t want them to snag.”

You nod diligently at each of his instructions, but it’s hard to listen with how your nipples are throbbing in pain. For his part, Satoru looks more and more crestfallen as he’s banned from three of his favorite activities for the foreseeable future. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, no fun allowed for the next six months,” he mumbles, tugging your shirt down at the same time to put your tits away. You could almost swear that Choso almost looks a little disappointed for a second once you’re all covered up again. 

Giving him a big, sweet smile, you say, “Thank you so much! You did such a good job. I really, really like them.” Naturally, Satoru is scowling the second the kind words leave your mouth. 

Choso’s cheeks turn red all over again at your praise. A broad hand comes up, and he scratches the back of his head before saying quietly, “No problem. Just glad I could help. They’re really pr—well, you were a good candidate for them, anyway.” Then he rubs the tip of his nose like he’s not quite sure what to do with his hands. “Come back in three months for a healing check, unless something looks wrong. You can come back sooner if you need to.” He really is a cutie. If you weren’t in a committed relationship with your possessive, if not a little crazy, boyfriend, you might have fucked him. Scratch that, you definitely would have fucked him.

Sliding off the treatment table, you wriggle your fingers at Choso and say in a sing-song, “Byyyeeee. See you in three months. Thanks again.” It sounds flirty even to your own ears, which makes his blush deepen and makes Satoru’s scowl even fiercer. 

As you’re walking away, you hear your boyfriend say very passive-aggressively, “Here.” You look over your shoulder just in time to see him shove a wad of cash towards Choso before following after you. On your way out of the tattoo parlor, you wave goodbye to Maki, and Satoru catches up with you to throw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close against him. Once you’re out of the tattoo parlor, Satoru leans in close and murmurs against your ear, “You’re so gonna pay for that little show you put on in there.”

You just grab him and pull him in for a kiss. With a teasing smile, you say coyly, “Promise?”

The way he smacks your ass—the crack, the sharp sting—tells you just how serious he is and what’s waiting in store for you once the two of you get home. And that makes your sopping cunt clench around nothing. 

♡

The nipple piercings are difficult to get used to. In the initial weeks, you have to be extremely careful not to get them snagged on anything, because you learned your lesson the first and only time it’s happened. Luckily, nothing was damaged; it just hurt like a motherfucker. Satoru held an ice pack to your tit for an hour, stroking your back, murmuring sweet nothings to you the whole time. 

The longer you have them, though, the more you become accustomed to the feel of them in your body. You’re religious about cleaning them, which has made the healing process relatively uncomplicated so far. And you have to admit, they do look quite cute through your little nipples. Once they’re healed enough, you’ll be able to swap jewelry, and you’re looking forward to that; a ring with a gem would be really pretty. 

Three months go by in the blink of an eye. You almost forget about the appointment until Satoru reminds you that you’re supposed to get them looked at again to make sure they’re healing alright. And, of course, there’s no way he’s letting you go alone after the last time. Not while a certain piercer was looking at his baby’s tits with a weight that was heavy and hungry.

When you arrive at the tattoo parlor, you spot Yuki first, sporting a faint tan, the lingering vestiges of her vacation still visible on her body. She’s talking to a client, though, so you don’t want to interrupt. Turning to Maki, you say, “I’m here to have my nipples checked out. Choso pierced them a few months back.”

“Oh, he just got here for the day. Good timing,” Maki replies, barely looking up from the schoolwork she’s puzzling through at the counter. “He should be back there. You can just go ahead.” A pen spins deftly through her nimble fingers, then back again. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Satoru says, his hand curling into your arm just a smidge too tight for half a second. Then, he jerks his chin toward Yuki and asks,  “Can’t we wait for her?”

“She’s about to do a tattoo for a new client,” Maki says flatly, clearly over Satoru already. Her golden, grown eyes narrow on him and she adds, “If you want to wait two or three hours, then be my guest. But Choso is here and available.”

You can feel Satoru’s eye roll. “Fine,” he mutters petulantly. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.” Like a cat upset about its owner acquiring a new kitten, he is not afraid to make his displeasure known.

Maki and you exchange looks, and you just shrug off his arm and pinch Satoru’s side. “Don’t be an ass,” you mutter, then you push through the curtain. Satoru yelps and then jogs after you, but doesn’t push his luck by acting like a human poncho again. 

It’s a little busier in here than you’re used to. The owner of the shop, Sukuna, is tattooing someone in one of the chairs near the entrance. Yuki is talking to her client, who has someone with him. When she spots you, she gives you a big smile and waves at you, both of which you return, even blowing her a kiss. Choso is at the very back, setting things up for his next appointment, it seems.

You watch the smooth, steady, almost graceful movements as he carries the necessary supplies next to an empty chair. When he looks up, he spots you, dark eyes widening, then darting down to your tits only to snap back up to your face. Tilting your head to the side, you smile at him so sweet that it makes his cheeks burn. 

His hair is down today, long, shaggy, and so soft-looking. No oversized t-shirt today, but rather a tank top that shows off his muscular arms, as well as the sleeve and a half of art he has going down them. 

“Hi Choso,” you say cheerily, “I was here a few months ago to get—“

“I remember,” he cuts you off, eyes drifting over to Satoru who’s looming behind you like some sort of guard dog. It’s not long before his gaze finds you again though and he says with the barest smile, “Back for your healing check?”

You nod, “Yep! Think you can squeeze me in?” Satoru rushes up to throw his arm around you again in a move that reeks of laying a claim. This time you don’t shrug him off, though. He’ll just keep pouting and bothering you if you don’t throw him some sort of bone.

Choso’s smile widens, and he replies softly, “I think I can make that work. Take a seat.”

“Hello, I’m right here,” Satoru complains, loudly enough that you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Fucking flirting right in front of me,” he hisses under his breath, but you can tell Choso hears by the way he briefly goes stiff.

Sucking your teeth, you drop down into the chair and say, “I’m not flirting.” You 100% are flirting, shamelessly so, and just like usual, the more irritated and jealous Satoru gets, the wetter you get. The lesson he taught you last time clearly didn’t stick, or maybe it did stick, and now you’re ready to get punished all over again.

“Liar,” Satoru shoots back. He leans against the back of the chair, hands going to your shoulders to massage the crook there and up the back of your neck. “You’re being such a brat again,” he says, his tone all warning. 

“Am I?” You ask playfully as Choso rounds the side to stand in front of you. Of course, you’re sans bra again, for convenience. Lifting your shirt, you reveal your bare tits to him again. He might not even notice he’s doing it, but his tongue swipes along his lower lip, his dark eyes trained on your plush curves with an intense kind of focus. There it is. That’s the expression you hoped to see. 

He crouches down to get a better look, leaning forward to get a close look. Without asking, he reaches out and pushes the jewelry a bit, fingers brushing the sensitive skin in a way that makes your thighs press together. Behind you, you can hear Satoru’s teeth grind together. Your breath hitches when he turns the bar just slightly, the sensation strange and foreign.

Dark eyes meet yours. “That hurt?” He sounds almost guilty.

You shake your head. It really didn’t hurt. “No, just surprised me is all.”

He nods and pulls back a little, although his reticence is obvious in the slow way his hand drops to his side. Glancing from you to Satoru, then back down to you, “Then look good. The healing is coming along nicely. Be easy with them still, and make sure not to snag them on anything.” He starts to walk away but pauses. Then, he lets out a sigh and lopes back, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to take a picture for the parlor’s portfolio.” He clears his throat and says awkwardly, “They really do look very nice. The, uh, piercings, I mean.”

You smirk and open your mouth, but your boyfriend beats you to it. 

“No. No way,” Satoru says, reaching down to tug your shirt down so quickly it’s like he’s afraid Choso is going to whip out a camera right there and start taking pictures. 

“Oh come on,” you whine, looking up at him. If he can pout, so can you, after all; plus, he’s a lot more susceptible to your pouting than you are to his. It’s actually pretty easy to get what you want from Satoru. “Pleeeaaassseee,” you wheedle, looking up at him through your lashes. “If you let me, I’ll give you road head on the way home.”

Choso chokes, then has a slight coughing fit, his face turning a deep burgundy, but you’re sure it’s from embarrassment rather than the coughing. It makes you giggle. Eyes narrowing on you, Satoru says, “Tch. Roadhead? Try harder, sweets.”

“Well, what do you want then?” You demand, not wanting to sit here and play twenty questions. 

Satoru smirks and makes a big show of humming thoughtfully and tapping on his chin. “Go off your birth control?” He suggests cheerfully, like he’s asking you to pick a new show to watch instead of knocking you up. 

For a second, you just stare at him dumbfounded. His jealousy must be driving him crazy if he’s out here suggesting things like that. “You’re delusional,” you snap, reaching up to smack him on the arm. “In your fucking dreams.”

“Hah. No. In your wet dreams,” Satoru counters without missing a beat. The cheeky grin he gives you makes you want to pummel him. But you’ll settle for something else right now. 

You scoff and look up at Choso. “I’ll do the photo. Ignore him.” Then, glancing up at Satoru, you shoot him a dirty look and say. Are you doing this just to push his buttons? Maybe a little. “I offered you roadhead and, now, because of your greed, you get nothing.”

“Hey, wait a second, I’ll take the roadhead, I’ll take the roadhead,” he nearly trips over his own tongue trying to get the words out. 

While you and Satoru bicker back and forth, Choso, who you’re certain has to be sick of you and your overly enmeshed boyfriend, just gets up and goes to grab the camera. When he returns, it dangles from his hand by a thin black strap. It’s an old Polaroid camera, beat up in a way that tells you it’s someone’s camera, not the parlor’s. It’s a camera that has had its lens looked through with love on adored subjects.

“Her face isn’t gonna be in this, right?” Satoru demands. 

Choso shakes his head. “No. Close-ups only.”

“You owe me,” Satoru pouts, and you just know he’s salty as hell right now. The last time you pissed him off like this, he fucked you until your cunt was sore and you’d come so many times you were begging for him to relent. You couldn’t even walk the next day—had to call out of work.

Choso takes a few steps closer, and you decide now is a prime opportunity to fuck with the poor guy. Using your arms, you push your tits together to make them look extra plump, then you give him the outlets look you can muster up. Jaw working, his Adam’s apple jumps rapidly up and down. His jaw falls open a little bit, and he just stares for a minute, until Satoru snaps, “Well, if you’re gonna take the fucking picture, then take the fucking picture.” 

“Right,” Choso breathes before springing into action. Immediately, he shakes his head and lifts the camera. He takes one picture and sticks it in a box on the counter, then takes a second and does the same. After a few seconds, he pulls the first picture out to let it finish developing under the light. Meanwhile, you pull your shirt down again before your boyfriend takes it upon himself again. When it’s ready, he hands it to you. 

Oh. Wow. Your tits really do look cute with the piercings, all plumped up like that. “Here, this is for you to keep,” you say, handing it to Satoru. “Consider it your compensation.”

“A pittance,” he complains jokingly, but he takes the picture from you anyway and hurriedly stuffs it in his pocket at the dirty look you throw his way, like he’s afraid you’ll take that back too. Fair assumption on his part because you were about to. 

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you finally stand up from the chair. “Thanks, Cho. Maybe I’ll have to make you my regular piercer,” you tease, and it puts an expression of such profound want on his face that your walls clench around nothing. 

“Try not to jerk yourself off too hard to the picture,” Satoru taunts irritatedly, sneaking in one last jab that reeks of jealousy. The space between your thighs gets even more damp and achy. Your boyfriend follows on your heels as you walk out the door. His arm wraps around your waist and slides into your back pocket to give your ass a little squeeze. After waving goodbye to Yuki and then Maki, you’re headed out the door and into the buttery sunlight of the late afternoon.

“You know, I’m getting really tired of that attitude you seem to get whenever you see him,” Satoru says eventually, the sounds of passing traffic loud and obtrusive on your walk back to the car. That’s also fair. You have been extraordinarily bratty where the cute piercer is concerned. He seems genuinely put out over it too, which isn’t what you wanted; you just wanted to have a little fun at his expense. 

“Sorry baby,” you say sheepishly. Then, looking over at him, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. At last, you admit, “I just think you’re really hot when you’re jealous.”

The corners of his mouth turn up a bit, much better than that dreary frown he was wearing five seconds ago. “You think I’m hot?” He asks, like you haven’t been together for years, like it’s some sort of surprise. 

“Idiot,” you say, shaking your head as the two of you arrive at Satoru’s car. The black Mercedes-Benz glints in the afternoon light, the windows tinted as dark as they legally can be. “Of course I think you’re hot. You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

That drags a full, albeit reluctant, smile from him. He reaches out and grabs your arm, pulling you into him. His head tilts down until your noses brush together. Without giving you warning or time to prepare yourself, his lips capture yours in a deep, greedy kiss. He groans into your mouth as his tongue sweeps into yours, parting your lips forcibly. Your lashes flutter; the weak-in-the-knees feeling you get whenever he kisses you is so strong you nearly buckle then and there. Pushing you up against his car, his knee slots between your thighs and grinds against your clothed pussy. He kisses you breathless, until your head is spinning and you can’t tell up from down or left from right. 

When he finally breaks it, you gasp for air, drawing great, big gusts into your lungs. A string of saliva connects his lips to yours still, but then his tongue swipes out to sever it. “Pretty girl, you’re all mine. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He finally releases you, allowing you to scramble inside and take up your spot as passenger princess. Satoru follows not far behind, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car. After both of you are settled in, Satoru pulls the vehicle smoothly away. He weaves in and out of the city traffic with ease, arms corded with muscle flexing with each turn, which makes your mouth water for him. 

“You don’t think it’s hot? Other men wanting me when you’re the one who gets to share a home with me? Who gets to be inside me?” You look at him out of the corner of your eye. 

His eyes dart over to you, just for a second, then back to the road. “I’ve never thought about it like that before,” he admits, shifting in his seat. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and murmurs, “You’re a little fucking tease.” Well, he’s not wrong. Teasing is at least half the fun, maybe more than. 

“So what? Don’t tell me you don’t think it wouldn’t be fun to stuff me full of your cock and make him watch,” you say, low and soft. “Or, give him a little taste while reminding him that you get to have everything. Make him listen to me moan for you.” You shrug, and lean back in the passenger seat, making yourself fully comfortable. “I don’t know, I think it’s pretty hot.”

Satoru’s next words come out strangled. “I see your point.” When you look over at him, he’s sporting a fat bulge, the outline of his cock pressing against the front of his pants. “Still a tease though.” He clears his throat and adds, “You gonna help me with this? It’s all your fault anyway.”

You tip your head back and laugh. “Hmm, I thought roadhead didn’t interest you enough,” you say pointedly.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I should be grateful for what I’m offered,” he says. “Please, baby, I’m begging you.”  His hips lift just slightly, like he’s seeking friction he won’t find. “I’ll give you anything you want, pretty girl.” When he looks over at you, you can see the desperation in his eyes. It’s a good thing Satoru is no king because you get the feeling he’d sell the keys to a kingdom for you. 

Slowly, your hand moves over the center console until it comes to rest on his thigh. You can feel his warmth, even through the fabric of his pants. Sliding your hand over to his straining bulge, you palm it first, giving it a few rough strokes over the fabric until your boyfriend is moaning, his teeth biting into his lower lip.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” you sing-song as you reach for his zipper. 

It takes some doing, but you manage to unzip his pants and work his cock free. When it springs out fully, you take some time to admire the flushed pink head, leaking from the slit at the very tip, the thick jagged veins wrapping around the impressive length and girth of him. One thing you absolutely love about Satoru? How fucking big his cock is.

The first time he fucked you, you knew there was no going back once you’d felt him stretching you out. And he knew it too. He was so fucking cocky about it back then too, made sure to rail you extra hard to make sure you never forgot that feeling. And you haven’t.

Leaning over the center console, you lap at the tip of his cock, tasting those salty-sweet clear beads resting on the crown. You moan at the taste and swirl your tongue all the way around the head, once, twice, before sucking him fully into your mouth. Satoru groans in reply, hips bucking up just slightly as he tries to fit more of himself between your lips. 

The velvet feel of him and the way he tastes are intoxicating. Swirling your tongue around his tip, you then take him all the way back, back, back until his engorged tip bumps the back of your throat and you choke. “Good girl,” Satoru grits out, “Sweet thing. So good for me.”

Slowly, you pull back again and swirl your tongue around the tip, dragging it up the sensitive underside. For several minutes you tease him just like that, which has him groaning and whining, but when you finally start to suck him in earnest, he has to fight to keep his eyes on the road, to keep his huge hands clenched around the steering wheel. You hollow your cheeks and give him as you pull back off him, giving him that tight suction you know drives him crazy. When you take him all the way into your mouth again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he lets out, and you can feel the muscles in his thighs tensing and relaxing repeatedly, almost shaking. “Mmmm, my baby sucks cock so good. You love it, don’t you?” At the way you moan around his thick cock in reply, a breathy laugh leaves his lips before he says, “And you wonder why I get so jealous. It’s because you’re perfect, sweet girl.”

You look up at him through your lashes, catching his eyes right as he happens to glance down at you. There’s a soft expression on his face that makes your walls clench hard around nothing, something like adoration. It only makes you want to suck him down even more, another moan vibrating around his cock that makes his hips buck up gently. God, you fucking love tasting him, love feeling him stretching out your throat. 

When he finally comes down your throat with a gasp, his cock twitching against your tongue as he spills thick, sticky white threads of cum into your eagerly awaiting mouth, you swallow it all with a moan. Why he thinks anyone could steal you away from him, you have no fucking clue, because you’d be hard-pressed to give up moments like these.

And little do you know that while you’re sucking your boyfriend off on the way home, a certain piercer is frantically jerking his cock to you in the bathroom of the tattoo parlor, the picture of your tits clenched in his hand, teeth biting hard into his lower lip to keep silent. Without even knowing it, you have two men coming for you at once. 

♡

It’s late at night when you and Satoru show up at Ink Black Hearts for your last healing check and your jewelry change. It’s so late that not even Maki is in the shop acting as receptionist. After Satoru opens up the door for you and you duck inside, you find the waiting area entirely empty. The lights are dimmed, the sky outside is practically black, the light pollution from the city hiding any stars that might have been winking down at you. 

“Hello,” you call into the place, glancing around, trying to parse something from the eerie silence. 

You hear the soft scuff of footsteps before Choso appears, pulling aside the curtain that separates the waiting area from the main parlor. His hair is down again today, falling almost to his shoulders. Like last time, he seems a little surprised to see you, dark eyes widening, before a smile tugs at his lips. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here so late,” he says, pulling the black gloves from his hands with his teeth. “You’re lucky. I just wrapped up with a belly button piercing and was about to close up. Five minutes later and we’d have been closed.” He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning up against the frame of the entrance, and jerks his chin toward the back, “Come on back.”

You and Satoru squeeze past Choso, so close you can feel his body heat and smell the woody, spicy cologne he’s wearing. In the back, you walk over to the jewelry counter to start looking at pieces. A few catch your eye—a pretty bar with rose buds on either end, a ring with a pink gemstone sakura on it, another ring with a blue gemstone and a pearl, another bar with a chain dangling from either end featuring several little metal flowers. You like all of them, but your eyes keep going back to the ring with the little Sakura on it. 

Satoru comes up behind you and leans over you, looking over your shoulder at the jewelry pieces with you. Pointing to the little Sakura rings, he says, “You like those?”

You crane your neck to look up at him and say, “Yeah, but they’re a little expensive. A hundred and fifty dollars for the pair.” They have the biggest price tag of the ones you like. 

“Psssshhhh. Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets. I’m buying, anyway. You’re not spending a dime, sweets,” he coos, running a hand down your back. Then turning his head, he looks at Choso and says, “Hey, she wants these.” 

The dark-haired man goes behind the glass display case and unlocks it. Reaching in, he taps his finger against the small velvet cushion the jewelry is resting on in silent confirmation. At Satoru’s nod, he pulls them out and jerks his chin toward the treatment table, “Go on, lie down.”

The little smile you give him is all cute and playful, specifically designed to push his buttons. Doing as asked, you go and lie down on the bench, your back against the cushion. Your boyfriend trails behind you to crouch down at your side, but surprisingly he isn’t being as clingy or salty as he usually is when you come here, especially since you’re flirting with the cute piercer right in front of him. To your complete dissatisfaction, he hardly seems moved at all this time. 

Choso sets the new jewelry on a tray and goes to wash his hands really quickly. In the brief moments that he’s gone, you look up at Satoru, trying to discern his mood, but his expression remains frustratingly unreadable. When Choso comes back, you flip up your shirt to reveal your bare tits to him.

First, he leans down to look at the piercings. “They look like they’ve been healing well. Any issues?” 

You shake your head. “None.” 

Nodding, he reaches out and gently twists one of the bars. When you give no indication of pain, he starts unscrewing the end of each bar before slowly pulling them out of your nipples. His fingers brush your sensitive skin every so often, which sends sparks of heat straight up into your center. His steady hands move in sure, deft movements, setting the plain pieces aside and picking up one of the rings. He holds the little circle up to the light and the pink gemstones that make up each flower petal glitter beautifully. 

“These will look nice.” Choso murmurs. Looking back down at you, his dark eyes trace your pretty tits. Cheeks turning slightly pink, he adds,  “They’ll be really, uh, pretty on you.” Slowly, he lowers the ring and then sits down on the rolling stool beside the table. He leans down and carefully slides one ring into your nipple. Once it’s secured, almost like he can’t help himself, he squeezes that sensitive bud between his fingertips. Deep inside, your cunt aches terribly, aching to be punished.

Just when you start to think Satoru has stopped caring, he pipes up. “Hah. I’ll bet you think so. I bet you think no matter what piece of jewelry goes into her pretty tits, you’d think they look nice, am I right?”

Choso chokes, which he quickly turns into a cough. For a while, he says nothing, just silently grabs the other ring to fasten it through your other nipple. Finally, he looks up at Satoru and asks tightly, “Seriously? Are you really asking me that?” He looks like he’s in some sort of hell. 

Satoru’s smile widens at the red on Choso’s cheeks. “What? Don’t want to answer?” There’s a glint in those pretty blue eyes, something cold and dark, all hidden behind that cheerful, boyish smile. He snickers meanly and says, “Well, tell me this then: how’s that picture of them and your hand been serving you? How many nights have you jerked yourself raw wishing it was her?”

“Satoru!” You exclaim, looking up at your boyfriend. Absolutely shameless. And you thought you were being crazy. Flirting with Choso right in front of him was never going to end well, just like it hasn’t the last two times. Well, maybe it does end well, because you always get fucked into next week.

“What? Look at that guilty face and tell me you don’t think he’s been jerking off to that picture,” Satoru says, his huge arms crossing over his broad chest. When you look back at the dark-haired man, you do have to admit that Satoru is right. He does look quite guilty. He won’t meet your eyes, and his cheeks, ears, and neck are all bright pink. When neither you nor Choso say anything, he scoffs and adds, “That’s what I thought.” The smile on his face turns mean, and he taunts, “What would you give for a taste of my girl, hmm?”

Your jaw drops. He did not just ask that. You’re about to open your mouth, tell Choso to ignore your idiot boyfriend, but he beat you to it. “Anything.” His reply makes that damp spot forming in your panties grow even larger. A shudder goes down your spine at the dark, rough edge to his soft voice. 

“Anything at all?” Satoru parrots back, those blue eyes sparking with something dangerous. He cocks his head and says calmly, “Then beg.” A light mocking laugh leaves his lips, and he says, “Beg, and I might let you suck on her tit, let you have a taste of what’s mine.”

Okay, now you’re completely floored. Who is this guy and what has he done to your boyfriend? The man you love is stupidly, irrationally possessive, so this is a complete shock. “Satoru,” you say his name quietly. Then, you’re sputtering because you can’t seem to find the right words.  “Are you—what are you—“

Tilting his head to look at you, he coos, “It’s alright, baby. Don’t act like you haven’t been teasing him and shit. Encouraging his little crush on you.”

Well, guilty as charged. You 100% have been teasing your poor piercer, but it’s not your fault he’s so easy to tease and so cute when he gets all flustered. Maybe Satoru is rubbing off on you a little. It doesn’t mean he has to call you out like that, though, so you lift your chin and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s a lie and an obvious one at that, and Satoru knows it too because he just gives you that same smile he gave Choso.

Turning his gaze back to the other man, he says, “Well?”

Clearing his throat, Choso looks up at your boyfriend. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, very softly, he says, “Please, please let me suck on your girlfriend’s tit.” He sounds absolutely mortified. 

“Oh, come on. You can beg better than that,” Satoru taunts. 

Choso looks from him, back to you where you’re still lying on the table, the new rings in your pretty tits catching the light. “Please, I really, really want to suck on your girlfriend’s tits. Please. I’m begging you.” The way he’s staring at your body is as if it’s something he needs, something vital to his survival. There’s such longing on his face that it stuns you. 

“Well, since you’re begging so nicely,” Satoru says meanly, eyes flicking between the piercer and you. “I’ll let you suck on it.” His eyes flick between Chos and you, silently making sure you’re on board with it, and you just nod.

Choso needs no further encouragement. His large, steady hand comes up to cup your breast, and then he leans in to capture your little nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, tongue twirling around the little ring, flicking across the sensitive peak. The groan that comes out of his mouth and the way his eyes flutter shut gives away just how much he’s wanted this. 

You can’t help the moan that is pulled from your lips, so soft and sweet. He sucks on your tit like he needs it, like your body is the best thing he’s ever had the pleasure of having his lips on. One large hand comes down to rest against your side, running up and down your ribcage in soft, soothing strokes. The other rests on your hip, holding you in place. Your panties only grow wetter and wetter, the damp spot spreading with your slick. The familiar ache of needing to be filled pulses between your legs.

“Hah, look at you, sucking my girl’s tit like you need it,” Satoru practically growls as he moves behind you to stroke his long fingers over your hair. You whimper at the combined sensations, the affection versus the filthy way you’re being suckled. “What are you? A virgin?” At Satoru’s prodding, Choso whimpers, sucking even harder on you, which makes your breath stutter. Satoru laughs, “You want to suck her other one now? Beg me for it.”

Choso’s head lifts, and he releases your nipple with a wet pop. A string of saliva stretches from your skin to his mouth, and his thumb flicks out over your nipple to disconnect it, and it makes you shiver. He looks up at Satoru, his dark eyes hungrier and needier than you’ve ever seen them before. “Please, please, please, please,” he begs breathlessly, one of his hands coming down to stroke over the bulge starting to strain against his jeans. “I want it so badly.”

Satoru just laughs and says, “Aw, begging to suck a tit? What are you? A virgin?” But he still gives credit where credit is due and carries on, “Good boy, now beg her.”

His dark eyes turn to you, all dewy and puppy-dog-ish, and he whispers like he’s praying to god, “Please, I want to suck your other tit, if you—if you’ll let me. Please. You’re just so pretty, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, she is, isn’t she? And she’s all mine.” Satoru coos, his hand stroking against your cheek. “What do you say, princess? Gonna throw him a bone?”

You nod slowly and murmur, “Yeah.”

Choso needs no further encouragement. He latches onto your other tit, his jaw working as he sucks on that sensitive bud. You moan, looking up at your boyfriend’s face. He blinks down at you, those long white lashes closing for a second before revealing his pretty blue eyes to you. As Choso’s tongue flicks over your nipple and toys with the little ring, you can’t help but let out a lascivious moan.

“That feel good, baby?” Satoru asks, his blue eyes dark. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Ah, I’m yours,” you gasp out as Choso’s teeth scrape against your sensitive skin. “All yours.”

“Good girl,” Satoru says sweetly, stroking your hair again. 

When Choso finally releases your nipple, he gasps for air, like he was so focused on sucking on your skin that he forgot how to breathe. Staring down at you, his dark eyes are filled with desire, the bulge straining hard against the seams of his pants. There’s a little damp spot where he’s leaking pre onto the rough fabric. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes roving over your body like he’s not sure where to look.

“She’s even prettier when she’s stuffed full,” Satoru says, and before you even realize what’s happening, he’s picking you up like you weigh nothing at all and flipping you onto your stomach the wrong way across the table, so your head is dangling off one side and your ass off the other. Without giving you room to think or move, he yanks down your shorts and slaps his hand against your clothed pussy. You yelp at the sting, your walls squeezing around nothing. “Hah, soaking through your panties like a little slut,” he says, rubbing your folds over the damp cloth in an almost soothing gesture. 

“Please,” you whimper out, and when you look up, your eyes land on Choso, who is staring at you like you’re the answer to all the questions of the universe.

“You begging for me, baby, or are you begging for him?” Satoru demands with another sharp smack, this time to your ass cheek. 

“Ah, I—you,” you bite out. 

Satoru just laughs and replies, “Hah. Bey you’d love to suck his cock though, hmm? Little slut that you are? What do you think about that, baby? Give him a little taste of that pretty mouth that I can have whenever I want.”

“Yes, please—ah,” your sentence is cut off by the whine that leaves your mouth as his hand cracks against your other asscheek. 

Looking up at Choso, Satoru says, all lazy mockery, “Well, if you want her to suck your cock, you better ask nicely. One time offer, buddy, so you better enjoy every fucking second.”

He looks like a deer in the headlights, like he’s not quite sure how it went from having your nipple piercings changed to getting sucked off by your pretty mouth. After a moment frozen, he crouches down to make eye contact with you. Those dark, baleful eyes bore into yours as he says softly, “Please, pretty, I’d love it if you sucked me. I’ll never fucking forget it.”

Before you can say anything at all, Satoru grabs your hips and lifts them to slide your panties down. Then one finger plunges inside you, curling down towards your belly. “Ahh, fuck, Toru,” you moan out as he fucks his finger into you, your slick coating his thick digit. Blinking up at Choso again, you nod because you don’t trust yourself to get the words out. 

Choso’s brain buffers for a minute before he stands back up. He looks down at you again, his cheeks red, those dark eyes blackened with desire. Then, in quick, jerky movements, he unlatches his belt and shoves his pants and underwear down around his knees. Thick cock springing free, you can’t help but notice how pretty it is. Flushed, purplish-red engorged head leaking from the little slit, two angry veins wrapping around the hard flesh, thatch of dark hair right at the base. He gives himself a couple of good strokes before standing in front of you and guiding his tip toward your open, eager lips. 

Just as he’s about to slide himself inside, Satoru adds another finger to your dripping cunt and curls them down hard. Your mouth stretches open in a moan, and at the same time, Choso slides his thick cock down, down, down until he hits the very back of your throat and you choke, eyes watering.

“There you go,” Satoru coos, “Good girl, just like you take me.” The pad of his thumb circles around your clit and you naturally want to grind yourself against his hand, but with the cock in your throat you can’t. You have to rely on what Satoru gives you.

Moaning around Choso’s thick length, you relish the way he’s stretching your throat out. The taste of his pre—salty, a little sweet, but not as sweet as your boyfriend’s. It’s strange to have another man’s cock in your throat after three years of just Satoru—not bad, but he fits differently than you’re used to, plus he’s more gentle with you than Satoru. He’s careful not to fuck into your throat too deep, each roll of his hips easy and smooth. 

“Tch,” Satoru scoffs, fucking into you harder with his fingers, his thumb working around your clit, occasionally skating over it with just enough pressure to make your hips jump and your back arch. “You can be a little rougher with her. Put your hands in her hair. She can take it.” Then, pressing his thumb down hard on your clit, so hard that your thighs shake and you let out a keening moan around Choso’s cock. 

The vibrations around his cock, draw a moan from between Choso’s lips, and he ruts into your throat a little harder. A big hand comes down on your hair and grabs a handful of it, just pulling hard enough for you to feel it. 

Withdrawing his fingers from your soaked cunt with a wet schlep, Satoru murmurs, “Oh, fuck, you’re so wet, dripping from my fingers.” Then, meanly, he adds, “Bet you’d kill for a taste. You want some? You can suck it from my fingers.” Your eyes dart up just in time to see your boyfriend’s fingers disappearing into Choso’s mouth. The man’s dark lashes flutter, and he groans while he suck’s Satoru’s finger clean. There’s a wet pop as he withdraws his fingers, and he murmurs, “Sweet, isn’t she?”

“The sweetest,” Choso breathes, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat. The fingers in your hair tighten, and he starts fucking into you in earnest, the glide and stretch of his cock intoxicating. “You’re one lucky fuck.”

“Think I don’t know that?” Behind you, you hear the clink of Satoru’s belt coming undone and a second later feel his warm tip nudging at your tight little hole. He slides into you slowly, your cunt fluttering around him, until you’re full to the brim, that ache deep in you finally getting the attention it needs. 

You let out another moan, the sound muffled by Choso’s cock buried in your throat. Lashes fluttering closed, tears lining them, you tease his veins with the tip of your tongue. He fucking whimpers, his legs bumping up against the edge of the table, and you do your best to bob your head up and down in time with his rhythm.

Satoru, buried so deep in you that you can feel his tip gently kissing your cervix, finally moves. He sets a hard pace right from the start, pulling almost all the way out, then slamming back in, only to grind the crown of his cock into that spot that’s as deep as he can go. His huge hands find your hips, pulling them up a bit, putting you right where he wants you. You moan around Choso's cock, barely able to keep ahold of your thoughts when every stroke of Satoru’s cock and the stretch of your throat threaten to send them all scattering like dandelion fluff on the wind. 

Releasing one hip, Satoru slides the freed hand beneath and starts playing with your swollen, needy little clit. He strokes it hard now, in time with his thrusts; gone are the gentle teasing strokes from before. That’s what sends all your thoughts scattering. An endless stream of moans falls from your lips, which only serves to make Choso fuck harder into your warm, wet mouth.

“Good job, baby,” Satoru grunts out, his thumb circling over your clit in a way that has your thighs starting to shake. “Doing so good for us.”

“So pretty, such a sweet girl,” Choso murmurs in turn, the hand buried in your hair holding you in place as he starts to fuck into your throat harder, faster. “Good girl. Thank you. Thank you.”

If you could form a coherent thought, you might think to yourself how cute it is that he’s thanking you for sucking him off. Unfortunately, thoughts are not something you have access to at the moment. All you can do is feel—the sweet pressure from Satoru’s thumb, his cock railing into that sweet spot inside you that makes you fucking dumb, the way you swallow Choso’s cock down. 

It’s not long before your body starts to tense, the muscles in your thighs and calves twitching. Tension ratchets down in your guts, tightening down more and more with every stroke of Satoru’s digit, every pump of his cock. Your body is starting to feel light and warm, everything emptying out of your head at once at the feeling building in your center.

“Fuck, gonna come for me, sweets?” Satoru coos, the words strained. “Can tell you’re getting close, baby. Can feel her starting to squeeze me even better.” Then soft, low, and dark, he murmurs, “Come for us, pretty girl. Know you want to.”

And fuck, you do want to.

The circles his thumb is making on your clit go faster and faster. He fucks into you meanly, not giving you a centimeter of breathing room, railing into that spot that has you seeing stars until you’re dripping down your thighs, your legs. 

Choso is the first to break. “Ah, sh-shit, g-gonna f-fucking come,” muttered a half second before he’s spilling warm, sweet-salty cum straight down your throat while you eagerly swallow every drop. 

That, along with the way Satoru grinds his cock deep inside you and how his thumb is circling your clit hard and fast, are what push you over the edge. You’re moaning around Choso’s twitching cock as your cunt spasms around Satoru. Pleasure rips through you, arcs of heat lightning snapping through limbs, rolling through your body from your center. Tears are streaking down your face, darkness creeping around the edge of your vision, hearing coming and going. Your entire body feels warm and light in this moment. 

Satoru’s thrusts grow more and more erratic until he’s shoving his cock as deep in you as it will go and spilling inside you with a groan of relief. Every little twitch of his cock in your cunt makes you whimper a little more. Eventually, Choso pulls out of your mouth, a string of your saliva mixed with his cum stretching out. You blink up at him with watery eyes, and he reaches down to gently stroke your cheek.

“Alright, enough of that,” Satoru grunts as he slowly pulls out of you, “No one said you could touch her face all tender and shit.” 

You would laugh if you had the strength. 

Choso rolls his eyes and scoffs, “You know, you really don’t deserve her.”

You can hear the warmth in Satoru’s voice is obvious, the complete and total adoration, “Oh, trust me, I know. But she’s mine anyway.”

A/N: 12k of straight smut????? Lmao, sorry guys, this got to be really long. TY all for reading. Reblogs and comments are especially appreciated.

Tag reqs HERE // ⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ m.masterlist 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[You]: are you fucking serious right now? i had to find out from HER?

[My Husband 🥰]: what are you talking about?

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

[My Husband 🥰]: babe pick up the phone

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

[My Husband 🥰]: what the fuck are you even talking about? find out WHAT???

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

[My Husband 🥰]: BABE

[My Husband 🥰]: PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

Missed call from My Husband 🥰

The only reason why the phone calls stopped was because you blocked him, but he would’ve kept calling until his phone died. It’s happened before.

Soon you get a Zelle notification.

R. Sukuna has sent you $200.00.

Memo: unblock me.

You sent R. Sukuna $20.00.

Memo: you can keep your fucking money

R. Sukuna has sent you $20.00.

Memo: you can’t just tell me to keep my money but then pocket more than half of it. and what the fuck am i gonna do with 20 dollars??

You sent R. Sukuna $2.00.

Memo: and now you have 2, see what happens when you don’t appreciate what you have?

R. Sukuna has sent you $2.00.

Memo: what the fuck does that even mean?? can you just unblock me already?

You sent R. Sukuna $0.50.

Memo: no

R. Sukuna has sent you $100.00.

Memo: JESUS FUCKJNGCHRIST UNBLOCK ME

You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.

Memo: NO

You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.

Memo: we’re out of sugar and creamer btw don’t forget to grab some on your way home

R. Sukuna has sent you $100.00.

Memo: wait so im not in trouble?

You sent R. Sukuna $0.01.

Memo: why would you be in trouble?

You regret asking the question as his breathing shallows, shoulders tense again.

“Yeah…It was a little rough.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your apology softens him enough that he presses a kiss to your forehead. It really shouldn’t be you apologizing. If anyone, it should be the idiots at work.

The TV light flickers once again stealing his attention. “What’re you watching?”

“I don’t know, some new romance Nancy wouldn’t stop talking about.”

He chuckles at the thought of you actually being able to sit through this. One line of dialogue is enough for him to scoff.

“This show is horrible.”

You laugh, cheeks heating up. “I know, I know.”

You peek around his shoulder and watch the show with him. The characters are alone in a bedroom, both tipsy but desperate for each other.

Steve’s breath hitches as the couple begins touching each other. So much for hating romance. Moans rattle through the speakers and heat floods your face. All you can think about are those noises coming from him. Your hands trace his spine, but he pays no mind, eyes glued on the screen.

You rack your brain for a way to steal his attention, but your hand makes the decision before you do. It unbuttons his pants, dipping into his boxers. You grab his cock and run your thumb over the tip.

He jerks back, head slamming on the door. “Fuck, what are you—”

“Shhh. Just relax.” You drop to your knees, pulling his pants and boxers down so that they pool at his ankles.

“I can’t relax when you—” your tongue licks from the base of his cock to the tip, “—oh fuck.”

You hum sending his nerves into shock. One hand meets the back of your hair, but he doesn’t tug or push down like usual—he allows you to take control.

A grin forms as you gag around him, spit dribbling down the corners of your mouth and onto his shoes. He should’ve taken them off by now, but with the way you’re sucking him, he couldn’t care less.

His hips stutter, curses filling the room both from him and the mind-numbing show on the TV. You pull back, taking a breath, before forcing yourself as far down as possible. Your throat spasms around him and, without warning, he cums down the back of your throat. He’s salty but somewhat sweet, the taste has never bothered you much.

His hips and hand lock you in place for longer than comfortable, air in your lungs dissipating. The release seeping down the back of your throat only suffocates you more. You smack his thigh roughly and he snaps out of the daze, dragging you off of him. He peers down at you, pupils blown out.

“Fuckkk, that cured me doll. I should take you to work with me so you can do that all day.”

He hooks his hands underneath your arm, lifting you onto your feet. You meet gaze with teary eyes and a smile he could never forget.

“Let me return the favor to you now. I’ll make you feel better.” He scoops you up and carries you to the bed.

“God, you’re so strong. Muscles so big.” You trace the ridge of his bicep.

He tosses you down with a chuckle. The TV shuts off meaning you must’ve landed on the remote, or it felt the same way about the show and turned itself off.

You giggle glancing back at him before letting your legs fall apart. Cold air rushes across your skin, exposing the lack of clothes on your lower half.

“I can’t control myself when you do shit like this.” His hands drag the skin on his face down. “Fuck me.”

“No, Steve. Fuck me.”