🧚‍♀️

sukuna is the kind of guy who’s always over in the corner of the gym looking like he’s about to start a fight with the equipment, just covered in tattoos and muscles and everything. not to mention that he’s got these big biceps that would look better if he let you leave a bite mark to it.

you’ve known him for a bit because you’re both there at the same ungodly hour. you aren’t ‘friends’ or whatever (because he’s an asshole) but you guys talk. mostly because you’re the only person with enough balls to talk back when he starts being a prick. everyone else in the gym treats him like a god.

today was leg day, and you were feeling yourself. you had the bar loaded up for some deep squats, but you were pushing your limit and needed a spot. 

you saw him nearby, just finishing a set looking all sweaty.

“hey, dickhead,” you called out, wiping your neck with a towel. “i’m hitting a new heavy set. come spot me.”

he didn't even turn his head. he just let out this annoyed growl. “do i look like a personal trainer to you? fuck off. i’m busy.”

he’s such a dick, but god, he’s cracked. he’s not the overly buff type, his body is well proportioned just right in all the best places, which made him look more attractive. but you aren’t exactly slacking either, and you’re just as dedicated to your gains as he is to his.

“oh, i get it,” you said, leaning against the rack. “you’re worried about the view, huh? afraid if you get too close, you might get a little... distracted? don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone if you get hard. it’s a natural reaction to a dumpy this elite.”

that did it. he stopped what he was doing immediately. his ego is so massive that questioning his ‘discipline’ is the fastest way to piss him off. he dropped his weights and he walked over to you, looking like he wanted to kill you.

“you have a big fucking mouth,” he muttered, stepping right into your space. “get under the bar. let’s see if all that work you do on your ass is actually good for something or if you’re just a loud-mouth brat.”

you didn’t back down. you got under the bar, braced your core, and unracked the weight.

as you started to drop down, sukuna stepped in way too close. his chest was basically pressed against your back now, and you could smell him from this distance. which is not helping. 

you invited him with the intent to make him lose his control, but it seems like you’re getting a taste of your own medicine.

“lower,” he demanded right in your ear.

when you reached the bottom of the squat, his hands suddenly clamped onto your waist. 

his palms were so huge that his fingers practically met around your stomach. he wasn’t being careful at all. he even grabbed your hips and forced them down even further, making you feel every bit of that deep ass stretch.

“keep your chest up, damn it,” he hissed. 

he was so close you could feel his breath on your neck sliding his hands down a bit, making his thumbs dig into the sides of your glutes to check your form. 

the way he was gripping you was completely unfiltered and he was basically manhandling you into the right position.

you pushed back up, but the weight felt a thousand times heavier because of how tight he was holding you. on the third rep, you felt it. since he was standing right behind you to catch the weight if you failed, his groin was pressed right against your ass. and he was definitely not soft.

it was a hard, pressing right into your glutes through the thin fabric of your leggings. he didn’t even try to hide it or back off. if anything, he leaned into it more as you descended. he was literally getting off on the friction and the view from right above you.

“what was that you said about self control?” he whispered and let his hands slide fully over your ass as you struggled to rack the bar, digging in deep for a second as if he was marking his territory.

once you finally racked the weight, you turned around, totally flushed and breathless. he was standing there with a wild look in his eyes, and the bulge in his gym shorts was so obvious because he obviously is so packing that it was actually insane. 

he didn’t look embarrassed at all; he looked like he was about to skip the rest of his workout and drag you out of there.

“your set is done,” he warned. “now get out of my sight before i forget we’re in public.”

he turned around and he headed straight for the gym bathrooms. 

he was losing his goddamn mind and he could feel the lingering softness of your skin on his palms and the way your ass had felt pressed right against his groin.

he kicked the stall door shut and locked it with a hurried click. he didn’t even sit down. he just remained standing there, leaning one hand against the cold tile wall while the other went straight for the waistband of his shorts. 

he ripped them down along with his gray boxers, and his angry dick snapped out, already leaking and pulsing. it was rock hard, thick, and twitching with need.

he wrapped his hand around himself, gripping it tightly. he started slow, just a few sensual slides to spread his leaking juices, using his thumb to rub the head as he let out a frustrated breath.

“fuck,” he hissed, closing his eyes.

immediately, he was back in that squat rack. in his head, he wasn’t just spotting you anymore. he was imagining you turned around, legs spread wide, while he hoisted you up against the metal bar. he pictured your face while you looked down at him.

the pace of his hand picked up. he started jerking himself faster and imagined the weight of your breasts in his hands. like how they’d feel heavy and warm as he squeezed them, at the same time, his thumbs would flick over your nipples through that gym top.

then he pictured you straddling him right there on the gym floor, as you started bouncing on him. 

he could practically feel the way your ass would shake and flex with every downward thrust. in his head, he was reaching up and clamping onto your ass cheeks, digging his fingers into the muscle and pulling you down harder, faster, until you were bottoming out on him.

“yeah, keep moving like that, you little brat,” he muttered to the empty stall.

he was going full speed now, biting his own lip so hard as he pumped himself, even his hips were jerking forward instinctively. he’s so fucking desperate. and the way he is so turned on, he could’ve fucked you right there and then earlier. 

the image of you riding him while you gripped his shoulders, was making his brain short-circuit. he imagined the wet, slapping sound of your skin hitting his thighs, the way you’d moan his name right into his ear while he absolutely buried himself in you.

he was right on the edge now as he pictured you arching your back, chest pushed out, while he buried his face between your tits and just went to town on your ass.

“fuck—”

with one last a series of frantic strokes, he boiled over. he groaned out loud as he came hard, his dick was pulsating hard that his cum was hitting the back of the stall door and his own hand. 

he stayed there for a minute, forehead pressed against the tile, panting like he’d just ran a marathon. he cleaned himself up with some rough paper towels, looking absolutely disgusted with how much power you had over him.

when he finally walked back out onto the gym floor, he looked completely dangerous. 

he caught your eye across the room while you were finishing up, and the look he gave you was pure, unadulterated filth. he didn’t say a word, but the way he wiped a stray bead of sweat off his lip told you exactly what he’d been doing.

he went straight back to his rack, trying to act like he wasn’t completely rattled, but you weren’t about to let him off that easily.

you moved over to the cables right in his line of sight. you knew exactly what you were doing when you started hitting your kickbacks, slow and controlled, making sure to squeeze at the top of every rep so your glutes flared perfectly under those tight leggings. every time he went to lift, he’d catch a glimpse of you in the mirror: arching your back, pushing your chest out, looking like a total brat.

you could see his veins popping in his neck as he tried to focus on his overhead press. he was basically vibrating with frustration, and every time you’d catch his eye in the reflection, you’d just give him a little smirk and go deeper into your stretch. 

finally, you finished up. you grabbed your jug, wiped your neck, and headed for the exit. you timed it perfectly, when he’s just finishing his last set, looking absolutely spent and pissed off.

you were waiting at the elevator when the doors slid open. you stepped in, and right before they closed, a heavy hand blocked the sensor. sukuna stepped in next, taking up every inch of the small space. 

you leaned back against the handrail, looking him up and down. “So,” you started playfully. “how was your little trip to the bathroom, sukuna? did it go well? did you imagine me good enough?”

his head snapped toward you. he didn’t say a word, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the railing.

“did you cum a lot?” you whispered, stepping closer until you were in his personal space. “you look a little less tense, but i can still see that bulge. i bet you were thinking about me bouncing on you, weren’t you?”

“shut your mouth, brat. you have no idea what you’re playing with.”

“no, you shut up,” you countered, poking his chest. “it’s honestly so unfair. you get to go off and have your fun in a stall thinking about me, and what do i get? i missed out on all the fun while i was out there doing all the work. you’re a selfish prick, sukuna. you owe me.”

he looked like he was about to explode. “i owe you?”

“yeah,” you said, reaching up and grabbing the collar of his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fist. “make it up to me.”

before he could even get a comeback, you slammed your lips against his. it was a bruising, hungry kiss that made him immediately lose all his fake ‘discipline.’

sukuna let out a muffled groan into your mouth and hauled you up against him so hard. he kissed you back like he wanted to devour you, inserting his tongue against yours desperately. he didn’t care anymore if he’s acting like a pervert, your kisses made him lost his resolve. that what’s left in his mind right now is his dick, being inserted in your pussy.

his hands went straight for your ass, squeezing the muscle so hard. he had you pinned against the elevator wall, crushing you in the best way possible, and finally giving you the ‘fun’ you’d been teasing him for all morning.

when you got out of the elevator and the second your back hit the cold metal of his car, he was pinning you there with his entire weight. he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, hoisting you up so high your foot was dangling in the air and you were completely, shamelessly open for him.

“you want to talk shit in the elevator? you want to play games?” he growled, licking your lips and cheeks with his tongue. “fine. let’s see how long you last when i’m actually trying.”

he didn’t use a drop of lube. he just grabbed his pulsing, thick dick and shoved it into you in one brutal motion. 

you gasped as he bottomed out, stretching you so wide it felt like you were going to snap.

sukuna immediately started slamming into you, frantically hitting your hips with his, creating the wet slaps that echoed through the empty parking lot. and because your leg was hooked over his arm, he had the perfect angle to just bury himself as deep as possible, hitting your sweet spot with every single shove.

you tried to let out a loud ass moan, but sukuna wasn’t having it. he smashed his mouth back onto yours, sliding his tongue deeply and aggressively, basically swallowing your voice. you were literally eating each other out with your tongues fighting for dominance while he wrecked you from below.

he was holding your waist hard and possessive with his free hand and every time he thrust, his car rocked on its suspension, resulting to the metal groaning under the pressure of him pinning you against the door.

he was breathing like a goddamn animal, and it was hitting your cheek whenever he pulled back for a microsecond to bite your lip.

he picked up the pace, his movements mirrored the pent up frustrations and desperation of letting off you’ve built up in him from all your teasing. 

he was sweating now, not because he’s getting tired, (he is far from it), but because he feels like burning. his heartbeat could practically make a cardiologist panic by how abnormally fast it is. the adrenaline your pussy is giving him is actually insane.

as he worked you over, his dick felt like a hot iron rod inside you. he was completely cracked and that no one should be able to go this hard after a full leg day, but it seems sukuna wasn’t human.

he kept you pinned there, even when your leg started to shake from the strain, while he continued to fuck you open in the middle of the parking lot, you can’t even moan properly because he was busy sucking on your whole mouth.

then, he let out a frustrated sound against your mouth and pulled up, he suddenly shifted his weight, dropping your leg from his shoulder just to scoop both of your thighs up into his massive arms.

he deadlifted you off the ground like you weighed absolutely nothing, pinning your back against the side of the car. with your legs spread wide and locked around his waist, he was basically holding your entire world in his hands. you felt the cold air hit your sensitive pussy for a split second before he stepped in and slammed himself back into you, even deeper and more violent than before.

“wrap your legs tighter, brat,” he demanded because he looked like he wouldn’t care even if you fall, as long as his dick is buried inside you he won’t give a fuck about you.

he was fucking you with everything he had now, using his strength to drive himself upward into you. every time he thrust, he lifted you a few inches higher against the car door, before slamming you back down onto his dick. 

the sound was insane. the wet slapping of him hitting your ass over and over, and the messy sounds of you trying to keep your mouth on his. he was still trying to swallow your moans, using his tongue to travel around the smallest spaces of your mouth. he was holding you by the meat of your thighs, digging his fingers in so deep that you knew you’d have handprints there for a week.

“how are you still so fucking tight, ah fuck,” he hissed, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “look at that messy face, you sure love my dick huh.”

he was hitting your cervix with every thrust, his thick ass dick was stretching you to the point of pain and pleasure being the exact same thing until he started shaking. 

the whole garage was filled with the sound of him absolutely wrecking you against that car.

he let out one last groan as he grip your legs harder when he finally reached his climax. he slammed himself into you one last time, as he flooded you with everything he’d been holding back. he kept his dick buried deep, while his body twitched as he pumped loads of cum inside you.

you thought that was it.

but sukuna wouldn’t let you off easily. 

the moment he pulled out, he just shifted his grip, keeping you pinned against that car door with one arm across your chest. he looked at you, totally blown out and shaking, and a dark, twisted smirk pulled at his lips.

“i’m not done with you yet, brat. you haven’t even made a mess for me,” he growled.

he reached up with his free hand and grabbed the hem of your sports bra, yanking it upward to free your breasts, but before you could even gasp, he leaned in and buried his face there. he latched onto one of your tits, sucking on the nipple and biting, swirling his tongue, and treating you like his personal toy.

while he was busy wrecking your chest, his other hand went down and immediately shoved two thick fingers deep inside you in one deep thrust.

you let out a muffled scream into the top of his head as he started fingering you with zero chill. he was being violent with it while hitting your g-spot over and over. his knuckles were also rubbing against your clit while he hooked his fingers inside you, stretching you out just like his dick had done moments ago.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered against your skin, muffled by your breast as he switched to the other nipple, sucking even harder. “all that talk in the gym and look at you now. you’re a literal wreck.”

he picked up the pace and made his fingers work inside you faster. he was pushing his hand against you until you were arching your back off the car door, pulling on his hair because that’s where you can only express how good it felt. he was trying to make you cum so hard, and he was succeeding.

his thumb was absolutely hammering your clit, and with the way he was sucking on your tits and the violence of his fingers inside you, your body finally hit the limit. 

you started to shake and your pussy clenched around his fingers.

“yeah, that’s it,” but he didn’t stop, he kept going, faster and deeper, forcing you to ride out the orgasm until your legs were giving out, and you were sobbing his name into the quiet garage.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ CHAPTER 1

you were never some innocent kid when it came to your mom’s shit. you knew exactly how she was into getting high and getting laid. 

specifically, she’s got a thing for meatheads, and she isn’t above paying for any male escorts when she’s bored. Honestly speaking, that doesn’t even faze you. why? because that kind of fucked up system is just the house you grew up in.

and when you say ‘house’, you mean a father and a mother. and your dad was no better. he was a textbook womanizer who basically died because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. but technically, he lived with a deadline; he was ill (has a chronic illness).  and you suppose when you’re living on borrowed time, you spend it where you feel most alive. for him, that was anywhere his dick could lead him.

anyway, you knew it was only a matter of time before your mom found a permanent warm body to replace him (or at least that’s how it looks). 

what you didn’t expect was for her to drag in a homeless, broke ass guy off the street. it piqued your curiosity. you know your mother, she’s not the type to even deal with penniless losers unless they’re packing a massive dick or they’re built like a tank.

turns out, you were right.

yeah. 

toji fushiguro. 

that’s the guy fucking your mother senseless every night and he’s exactly what you expected: huge, muscular, and has that thick-faced look of a man who knows exactly how much space he takes up in a room.

it had been a few weeks, and you were already being turned into a restless, sleep-deprived loser who’d gone through a breakup, that insomnia had nothing to do with it. for a girl used to buying her way out of any problem and getting every whim catered to, this was a new kind of itch. 

it had become a sick little routine. every night, you found yourself pacing the hallway outside the maste’s bedroom. 

they didn’t even try to be quiet anymore.

they were at it again. they were always at it.

the noises were loud enough to echo through the massive hallways. your mother wasn’t even trying to be discreet. she sounded like she was being eaten alive. 

and toji? 

he was fucking shameless. he knew there was a daughter in the house just a few feet away, but he didn’t give a single shit. 

he was a thirty years old squatter with an ego, treating the woman who paid his bills like a dog (well, technically, she’s probably on all fours right now so you might be right about that).

“is that all you’ve got?” your mom gasped. she couldn’t even hide the desperation in her voice anymore. 

“shut up and take it,” toji’s voice came through that made your skin crawl. “stop whining and keep your ass up.”

the sound of a heavy slap rang out, followed by a sharp intake of breath. he was fucking her like he was trying to break the bed frame. he called her names while he was buried inside her. it was filthy, degrading, and utterly hypnotic.

you should be disgusted. in the first place, hearing two older people acting as your mom and dad fucking would be very awkward. well, it IS unquestionably awkward.

and you? you stood there while blushing profusely. 

you must be sick in the head too, aren’t you? 

your skin got itchy and you can’t move your feet to walk away, cause you are literally starting to crave what you’re hearing.

toji was nearly a decade older, but it felt like a century. he had that dead eyed stare that suggested he’d seen everything and wasn’t impressed by any of it: not your family’s wealth and definitely not the unhinged brat (you) listening from the shadows. 

he didn’t walk on eggshells around you; he didn’t even acknowledge the eggshells existed.

it was a full blown obsession now.

like you’d be at your desk trying to study, and then you’d hear that first moan or the smash of the headboard, and you were up, immediately out the door, into the hallway just to listen to toji earn his keep.

it was inevitable. his performance in bed must have been a religious experience for your mother, because she didn’t just keep him as a pet, she literally decided to remarry. 

now, toji was a permanent distraction in your own house: sat across from you at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, eating the food your mom’s money bought. it was a fucking fever dream, watching him play house while you sat there with itchy skin.

you knew your obsession was a sickness. fantasizing about the man who was technically becoming your stepfather was gross, even by your standards. 

tonight, your mother was away on a business trip. you did your usual walk down the hallway, expecting silence, but then you heard a single, low groan. not your mother’s desperate whimpers, but a deep sound that could only belong to him.

the door was half open and when you peaked through the gap, the sight made your breath hitch in your throat. 

toji was sprawled across the massive bed. he was alone, but he wasn’t idle.

his hand was buried in his sweatpants, moving up and down slowly, but still made the bed frame creak. i mean, that view itself was surprising, but…

it was his other hand that made your heart stop. he was holding a pair of lace underwear.

and that underwear:

is unmistakably yours.

he had his face buried in the fabric, inhaling deeply while his eyes closed in a sort of dark, twisted concentration. he wasn’t thinking about your mother while he was masturbating. he was sniffing your scent out of it while he worked himself over.

the man who was supposed to be your new father figure, was currently defiling your clothes in the dark. and as you watched him, you realized the obsession wasn’t just one-sided anymore.

your mother was still miles away the next morning, meaning you’re still left alone with the man who had spent his night inhaling your scent and masturbating off it. 

you walked into the kitchen and found toji already there.

he was leaned against the marble counter with a cup of coffee in his hand. he didn’t even look up when you entered, just stared out the window with that same bored expression.

“you’re up early,” he remarked. he looked at you then, his eyes dragging slowly from your feet up to your face.

“couldn’t sleep,” you answered, steadying your voice despite the adrenaline. 

you moved toward the fridge, purposely brushing past him. the scent of him hit you hard. “it was too quiet last night. i’m used to a lot more... noise coming from down the hall.”

toji let out a short, dry laugh. he set his coffee down and watched you reach for the juice. “missing the show? i thought a pampered brat like you would appreciate the peace and quiet.”

you turned to face him, leaning back against the counter, crossing your arms. you gave him a knowing look. “not really. i actually find myself getting pretty observant when things get quiet. for example, i noticed something was missing from my laundry this morning.”

toji tilted his head, making his dark hair fall into his eyes. “is that so? what’d you lose? a diamond earring? a gold spoon?”

“underwear,” you stared at him, trying to match the intensity of his pair of dead eyes. “an expensive one. the kind of thing that doesn’t just disappear unless someone went looking for it.”

toji didn’t even flinch. instead, a predatory smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. it looked like he was caught, okay, but does he care? no. 

he took a step closer, invading your personal space until you could only look up just to meet his gaze.

“maybe you just misplaced it,” he said and leaned down, his face is now inches from yours, feeling his warm breath against your cheek. “or maybe there’s a thief in the house. you should probably be more careful where you leave your things lying around. someone might get the wrong idea about how much you want to be noticed.”

he didn’t back away. he just stood there, waiting to see if you’d break first.

of course you didn’t flinch. why would you? 

instead, you leaned into his space, reaching out to trace the edge of the marble counter right next to his hip and looked up at him.

“you’re awfully bold for a guy who’s one phone call away from being back on the street,” you whispered teasingly. “i wonder how my mother would react if she knew the man she’s so obsessed with spent his night alone in her bed, fantasizing about her daughter. especially one nearly a decade younger than him. it’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think? getting off on my laundry?”

you expected him to look away or pull back, but toji just stayed there, as solid as a stone wall. 

“pathetic?” he repeated and let out a dry chuckle. “maybe. but i’m not the only one with a habit, am i?”

he moved closer, pinning you against the counter without even touching you.

“you talk about your mother like you’re worried about her feelings,” he raised a brow at you, as if mocking your very existence. “but let’s be real. how would she react if she knew her precious, privileged daughter spends her nights listening to me fuck the life out of her? how would she feel knowing you’ve been imagining it was you in that bed?”

his eyes dropped to your lips, then back up to yours.

“we’d both be fucked,” he concluded, smirk widening. “you’re just as sick as i am, kid. maybe sicker.”

he reached out, his long and thick fingers ghosting just an inch away from your jawline, refusing to give you the satisfaction of actual contact.

“so, what now? you gonna tell her? or are you gonna go back upstairs and think about what i was doing with that panty?”

the smug look on his face was infuriating. you hated losing, especially to a guy who was supposed to be nothing more than a glorified pet in your mother's house. 

that arrogant smirk he’s wearing made you want to slap him and scream at him, but at the same time, the way he read you so easily made you wet your own pajamas. 

you didn’t say another word, just grabbed your drink and stormed past him, and the sound of his chuckle followed you all the way back up the stairs.

it was a few hours later when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

it was your mother.

“hey, honey,” she said. judging by the sounds of her background, she was probably at the airport or in the back of a car. “just checking in. everything okay at the house?”

“fine,” you replied flatly. “boring as usual.”

there was a long pause on the other end, a moment where she was choosing her words carefully. your mother wasn’t an idiot.

she hadn’t survived your father’s bullshit without developing a sixth sense. she’s just as crazy as you, if you remember correctly.

“i know how... intense things can feel at home right now,” she started. “toji is... he’s a lot for a man. i know you’re used to getting your way, but don’t let your curiosity get the better of you while i’m gone.”

you sat up, your grip tightening on the phone. “what is that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” she said, “that i brought him in because he fits into my life. he isn’t a toy for you to poke at because you’re bored or restless. stay in your room, and let him be. i don’t want to come home and find out you’ve been... making things complicated.”

“i’m not a child, mom,” you snapped.

“then stop acting like one. i’ll be home tomorrow. love you.”

she hung up, leaving the dial tone ringing in your ear. 

you tossed the phone onto the bed. of course, she was threatened. she knew you were a predator just like her, and she was terrified you’d try to take what was hers.

but being told ‘no’ had always been the quickest way to make you want something even more.

the house went back to normal at midnight. 

the silence was shattered the second your mother walked through the door, replaced by her familiar muffled screams. 

meanwhile you sat in your room, staring at your textbooks, hating him. you hated his stamina and that if he were just some average guy, she’d have been bored of him by now. but he was big, and he was relentless, and it kept her hooked like an addict.

it was a cycle you couldn’t break, and it was wearing you down.

a few days later, you were standing on the curb outside the university, looking at your phone with a scowl. your car was still in the shop, in probation for a reckless driving incident you didn’t feel like apologizing for and both family drivers were occupied. 

your mom had sent a text: toji is coming to get you. don’t make a scene.

“seriously? you’re still waiting for a ride?”

you looked up to see a guy from your business law class. he was wealthy, attractive in a conventional way, and had been chasing you for months. 

he wanted to fuck you, and he wasn’t shy about it, but every time he looked at you, you just compared him to the man in your house. who’s far bigger in every aspect.

“my ride’s on the way,” you said, your voice dripping with your usual bored arrogance.

“i could just take you,” he stepped closer, reaching out his hand to brush against your arm. “we could grab a drink. my parents are out of town, and i’ve got that vintage wine you liked.”

he was laying it on thick, leaning in to whisper something in your ear, when a rumbled engine cut through. then a black suv pulled up.

the driver’s side window rolled down slowly, revealing toji. he looked even more out of place here than he did at your dinner table. 

he was dressed in a tight black shirt that showed off every muscle on his upper body. his dark eyes flickered from you to the guy beside you, who still had his hand on your arm.

toji didn’t get out of the car. he just leaned his elbow on the window frame, looking at the two of you.

“you done?” toji’s voice was a low. “your mother wants you home. she didn’t say anything about waiting around while you played house with this kid.”

the boy frowned, trying to keep his composure. “who’s this? your bodyguard?”

toji let out a dry laugh and looked the boy up and down.

"i’m her dad, kid,” toji said, his eyes finally locking onto yours knowingly. “get in the car. now.”

it was the same tone he used when he told your mother to shut up. the guy you’re with looked offended, but you didn’t care about him at all.

the traffic that followed was a nightmare. inside the suv, the air conditioning was the only sound you can hear, but the chills it’s supposed to give didn’t do anything to cool the suffocating tension between you. 

toji used one hand lazily on the steering wheel, looking bored out of his mind, as if he hadn’t just humiliated a guy half his age in front of the entire campus.

you shifted in the leather seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs. 

the sight of him asserting dominance back there had done something to you and the fact that he was acting like nothing happened was driving you insane.

“you’ve got a lot of nerve,” you finally snapped. “acting like a protective father back there. you really care that much about another guy trying to get under my panties? that’s pathetic, coming from the man who spends his nights sniffing them in my mother’s bed.”

toji didn’t even turn his head. he just tapped on the wheel. “i don’t care who you spend your time with. i just don’t like waiting. you were dragging your feet, and i have better things to do than watch some trust-fund kid beg for a taste.”

“is that it?” you leaned closer to him. “because it looked a lot like you were marking territory.”

you waited for a reaction, but he just let out a dry, irritating laugh.

“you think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?” he mockingly said.

“i know what i saw,” you countered, your hand sliding down your own thigh. “and if you’re so desperate to get close to my underwear, why settle for the ones in the laundry? i’m wearing a pair right now. and because of that little ‘jealousy’ display back there, they’re already soaked. you want to smell the real thing, toji? or are you too busy playing house with my mom?”

the silence that followed was deafening. you thought you’d won, thought you’d finally pushed him to a point where he’d be flustered.

but toji wasn’t just some guy. 

he finally turned his head, it made your heart skip a beat. 

“you’re a real brat, you know that?” he was smirking without humor now. he looked out at the traffic, then back at you. he shifted in his seat. “you want to talk about what’s going on in those panties? fine. but i’m not interested in just smelling them.”

he reached over. then his large hand gripped the back of your neck and pulled you toward him until you were inches from his face.

“if you’re so wet and so eager to make this complicated, then earn it,” he growled. “the traffic isn’t moving for at least twenty minutes. get down there and blow me. let’s see if that mouth of yours is as good at taking orders as it is at talking shit.”

you weren’t about to back down. 

your heart was hammering against your ribs, but your pride was far too loud to let him win this round. you stared him right in those dark, mocking eyes. 

“is that it?” you whispered. “you want me to work for it? how about you do your job first? if you want to get off, take them off me yourself. show me how much you actually want what’s inside them.”

toji’s expression shifted then. he didn’t say a word, though the smugness is still there. he just reached over, his massive hand disappearing under the hem of your skirt.

the way he did it like an expert made you gasp. 

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your lace panties and dragged them down your thighs, then he tossed them onto the dashboard after.

he didn’t pull away. instead, he pressed his palm flat against your soaking pussy now. his fingers were calloused and big, and he began a slow massage; grinding the heel of his hand into your clit while he watched your eyes blown wide with shock

“ah-uhmm,” you moaned involuntarily.

“you’re fucking drowning, aren’t you?” he grunted, feeling the wetness of your precum coating his fingers.

he withdrew his hand, showing his glistening and dripping fingers. 

he didn’t waste a drop. with his other hand, he reached into his pants and freed his dick. and your jaw dropped. it was already thick and standing proud, throbbing with vein-mapped weight. 

you watched, mesmerized, as he took your precum from his fingers and smeared it slowly up the length of his own dick, glazing the head until it shone in the dim light of the car.

then, he reached for the lace panties on the dash. he stuffed them into his mouth, biting down on the fabric, as he inhaled your scent directly while he worked. his eyes stayed locked on yours, as he reached back down and buried a thick finger deep into your pussy.

he pumped three his fingers inside you, forcing more of your precum to spill out so he could use it to keep wetting himself. he was being deliberate, showing you exactly how much of a degenerate he was. he wasn’t just taking what he wanted; he was using your own body to prep himself, all while biting down on your underwear like an animal.

he leaned back, and gestured with a tilt of his head toward his dripping, rock-hard dick. even with the fabric in his mouth, the command was clear.

the challenge was over. you didn’t need another word from him and the sight of your own fluid being smeared over his thick, throbbing dick was enough to break whatever restraint you had left. 

you scrambled over the center console, you no longer cared if your skirt was riding up to your hips as you dropped to your knees on your seat and the other leg was supporting your whole weight in your own footwell.

as soon as you took him into your mouth, you realized exactly why your mother was so addicted. the head of his dick was broad, stretching your lips as you struggled to take the full width of him. you swirled your tongue around the rim, tasting salty and your own precum, before sinking your throat onto him.

“fuck,” toji groaned. he didn’t play nice. instead, he reached down and fisted his hand into your hair, locking his fingers near the roots as he pulled your head back to look at you. “look at you. the little princess on her knees. you’ve been wanting this dick since the first night you stood outside that door, haven’t you?”

he didn’t wait for an answer. 

he began to shove his hips forward, meeting your mouth with a brutal pace. his other left hand didn’t stay still. he reached down between your legs, finding your pussy again and buried two thick fingers deep inside you, hooking them upward to find the spot that made your toes curl.

the car was filled with the sound of his moans and the wet slaps of your mouth against his groin. 

toji was shameless, tilting his head back against the headrest, tightening his jaw as he watched the traffic through the windshield while his step-daughter sucked him off.

“suck it harder,” he growled, as he tightened his grip on your hair, forcing you to take him deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “use that tongue. i want to feel every bit of that expensive education you’re getting. show me how much of a slut you can be when your mom isn’t looking.”

his fingers inside you were relentless, finger-fucking you with speed that matched the aggressive thrusts of his cock in your mouth. he was stretching you out, grinding his thumb hard against your clit, making you shake and wet yourself more.

your saliva was even dripping down his balls as you tried to keep up his animalistic pace.

“yeah, just like that,” he hissed as a guttural moan escaped him when he felt your throat clench around him. “fucking brat. you’re even tighter than she is.”

he was beginning to lose that smug composure from ragged stabs as you worked him. he was close, and he wasn’t planning on pulling out.

the car was so full of the smell of sex, even the windows fogged over as toji’s fingers worked you. 

you were losing your mind, your tongue was dancing around the head of his dick while his three fingers hammered in and out of your pussy. he was hitting that specific spot over and over that had you gasping around him while your eyes rolled back.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” his voice was kind of breaking as he felt your internal muscles start to squeeze his fingers. “you’re gonna go, aren’t you? do it, brat. give it all to me.”

he increased the pace, making his thumb crush your clit while his fingers were buried deep, and that was it. 

you buckled, as a violent wave of pleasure crashed over you as you squirted.

a hot spray of your juices hit his hand and soaking into the leather seat. you were shaking, letting out a muffled moan vibrating against his dick as your body gave up everything.

toji didn’t stop. he let out a moan of his own too while he watched you come. he withdrew his dripping fingers from your pussy, with your cream and the remnants of your squirt. 

and without a second thought, he brought his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers clean, tasting you while he watched you tremble. 

the sight of him eating you out of his own palm while his dick was still buried in your throat was the final straw. he was right there.

“don’t you dare move,” he growled, slamming his hand back into your hair to lock your head in place.

he didn’t let you pull away to catch your breath. instead, he surged forward, bucking his hips more. he let out a long, loud groan that echoed off the glass as he finally came, his dick was throbbing violently in your mouth. 

he pumped load after load of hot cum directly into the back of your throat, forcing you to take every bit of him while he stared down shamelessly. 

he stayed there for a long moment, pulsing inside your mouth as the last of his cum spilled over your tongue. 

when he finally pulled out, his dick was glistening. he leaned back against the seat, completely unfazed by the fact that the traffic had finally started to move.

he wiped a stray drop of spit from his lip as he looked at you, messy and unhinged on your seat.

toji didn’t offer a hand to help you up. instead, he just watched you scramble back into the passenger seat, while your face was flushed and your lips were swollen. he reached over, his thumb swiping a thick smear of his own cum from the corner of your mouth, and then he licked it off his skin right in front of you.

“clean yourself up,” he muttered as he shifted the car into gear. “you look like a mess, and i’m not the one explaining to your mother why you’ve got my cum all over your face.”

the weeks that followed were pure unhinged madness. 

your mother didn’t suspect a thing, and of course you made sure she will never know. 

she had no idea that every time she touched toji’s arm or laughed at his dry jokes, you were tasting him in the back of your throat.

the hunger didn’t fade; it mutated. 

it became a fever that burned through your skin.

now, the nightly ritual in the hallway wasn’t enough. 

the second you hear them fucking, you’d lock the door and strip off spreading your legs wide while you’re buried in your own comforter.

you were losing it. 

you’d jam three fingers deep into your pussy, moving them with the same violent thrusts toji had used in the car. you’d close your eyes and scream into your pillow, imagining it wasn’t your own hand, but his big, scarred palm pinning you down.

you’d visualize him lifting you up, as he shoved that massive, thick dick into you until you were breaking. you wanted to be fuck out senseless by him. 

and by the mere thought of it is making your back arch, hips bucking against the air, sobbing quietly as you work yourself.

“toji,” you’d whisper into the dark. “fuck, toji, please.”

you were obsessed with the mental image of him eating you out and the way he had tasted your cum off his fingers in the car. you’d rub your clit until it was sensitive, imagining his mouth there instead while he looked up at you with those dead, shameless eyes.

you were a wealthy, educated girl with everything at your fingertips, and here you were, acting like a starving animal for your mother’s fiance. you’d listen to her moans through the wall, and instead of disgust, you felt a murderous envy. 

you wanted to rip her out of that bed and take her place, to feel the full size of him until you couldn’t remember your own name.

by the time you finally came, your sheets would be tangled and soaked. 

you’d be left shivering in the dark, while your heart hammering against your ribs, recovering from your sexual adrenaline like a trapped bird. 

the day your mother was set to leave again couldn’t come fast enough. now,  she stood in the foyer with her luggage stacked by the door. she was looking at you with that same piercing, suspicious gaze. 

“i’ll be gone for four days,” she said as she adjusted her coat. she looked up the stairs toward the master suite where toji was likely still asleep, then back at you. “remember what we talked about. don’t go looking for trouble.”

you didn’t even look up from your phone, you just kept scrolling aimlessly just to avoid her eyes. “yeah, yeah. have a safe flight or whatever.”

“i’m serious,” she snapped, stepping closer until she was in your space. “don’t let that restless habit of yours ruin things. he’s not a toy.”

“i heard you the first ten times, mom. just go,” you muttered. 

truth is, your heart is already racing at the thought of being completely alone with toji again. you didn’t care about her safety or her trip; you just wanted her out of the way. 

the moment the car pulled out of the driveway, you spiraled. 

the adrenaline was so bothersome in your chest, making your hands shake. you bolted to your bathroom, stripping your clothes off and stepping into the shower. 

you turned the water to a freezing temperature, trying to shock your system, but it didn’t work. your hands were all over yourself, fingers digging into your pussy aggressively. you were panting, splashing water everywhere, desperate to dull the itch that had been building.

you wanted to at least calm the fuck down. as if toji’s dick would run away or something.

finally, you stepped out, dripping wet and shivering. you threw on a silk robe, barely tying the belt, and stormed back into your bedroom.

you stopped dead.

toji was there. he was lounging in your armchair, one leg crossed over the other. he had an unlit cigarette between his lips. he didn’t look surprised when he saw you, he looked like he’d been waiting.

you didn’t ask why he was in your room. you didn’t even ask how he got in. 

you walked straight over to him and without a word, you reached for the belt of your robe and yanked it open, letting it slide off your shoulders and pool on the floor, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

you climbed onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs, and you wrapped your hands firmly around his throat, choking him. 

“i don’t give a fuck about her anymore,” you whispered desperately. “and i don’t give a fuck about her warnings. i fucking missed your dick, toji. stop acting like you aren’t starving for this and just put it in me.”

toji let out a low chuckle that vibrated against your chest. his hands came up, gripping your waist and looked up at you with a shameless smirk.

“you really are a fucking monster, aren’t you?” he rumbled.

toji didn’t move to take his clothes off, he just sat there, letting you do all the work with your hands roaming frantically over his chest, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles through his shirt. 

you can’t get enough of him, so you leaned down, biting at his neck while you began to grind your soaking pussy right against his clothed dick.

“fuck, toji,” you whimpered, feeling his buldge tease your clit. “it’s so—ah!—it’s so big.”

toji’s hands slid from your waist down to your ass, squeezing the cheeks and tilting your pelvis harder into him. 

he let out a low groan. “you talk too much, kid. you really think you can handle the real thing? you were shaking just from a finger in the car.”

“shut up,” you gasped, grinding even faster. the feeling of his pants against your bare pussy was driving you insane. “i don’t care. i want you to—oh god—i want you to break me. i want to feel every inch of you until i can’t—fuck!”

your sentence was cut off by a moan as toji suddenly bucked his hips upward, fucking you with his clothed cock.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he pointed out. “i can feel you soaking through my goddamn jeans. you’re desperate, aren’t you? a little obsessed monster.”

you leaned down to find his lips, while your hands were fumbling with his belt. you were whimpering now. “please, toji. just... fuck, i need it. i need—ah, god, yes!”

he had reached down to find your clit, and played with your clit using his thumb.

he was watching you roll your eyes while he massaged your clit up and down with his thumb. the sight of your gaping mouth made his dick so angry that it wanted to escape his jeans. 

“you want it?” he growled a shameless moan as you finally got his zipper down and his dick sprang free, pulsing against your stomach. “then take it. let’s see if you can actually—hngh—take all of me.”

toji didn’t wait for another moment and reached down, he hooked his arms under your knees and hauled you upward as he stood. 

you wrapped your arms around his thick neck instinctively for support, your legs are spread wide for him now, leaving you completely open and vulnerable. 

he lined himself up and drove into you with one singular, devastating thrust.

“fuck!” you screamed, snapping your head back, and your eyes blowing wide instantly. the size of him felt like he was splitting you in two. 

the first few thrusts were painful, but you were fantasizing about this very dick for a month now. you realistically expected it to hurt before, how the fuck would it not hurt if he was this big? you’d thought.

toji let out an animalistic moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he continued to move. he didn’t hold back. he slammed into you relentlessly, driving his dick into your pussy with an intent to reach your cervix every time. 

every impact made your breasts bounce violently, and the sight of them made his pupils dilate with a sick kind of pride.

“you’re—hngh—you’re so fucking tight,” toji rasped. “even tighter than in the car. how is a brat like you—fuck!—this built for me?”

you couldn’t even form words anymore. your face was a mask of pure, unhinged ecstasy.

even your tongue was darting out to lick your lips. 

you were a girl who should have been at uni today, and instead, you were being hammered into a wall by the man who was supposed to be your stepfather.

the dynamic was twisted, and you loved every second of it.

he was your mother’s future husband, a man brought in to provide for her needs, yet here he was. he wasn’t just fucking you, he was desecrating your mother’s property, and the way he looked at you told you he knew exactly how much he was ruining you.

“does she know?” toji groaned, as his pace was becoming more frantic. his dick is hitting your cervix with every brutal shove, and he seemed to not get enough of it as much as you do. “does your mom know her little girl—ah, fuck—sounds like a goddamn whore when i’m inside her? you like being my little secret, don’t you?”

“yes—ah!—yes, toji, fuck!” your fingernails dug into the muscles of his back. “ i’m—oh god—fuck, just keep... keep breaking me!”

he let out a jagged  laugh between his moans. the slaps of your ass hitting his pelvis was also getting louder as he felt your walls pulsating and squeezing him. 

“you’re fucking crazy,” he hissed. “and i’m never—hngh—letting you go.”

toji dropped your legs and flipped you around. he shoved you down onto the edge of your bed, pressing your face into the duvet while your ass was hiked high in the air. 

he licked his lips as he stared at the view. his dick was even more alive now it actually hurts. you were a fucking work of art that he gets to fuck. 

he gripped a handful of your wet hair, pulling your head back until your spine arched painfully, and slammed back into you from behind.

“fuck!” your scream was muffled by the pillow. 

the angle was deeper and more invasive now. every time he lunged forward, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed in corners of your room.

toji was completely undone now. the bored facade was gone, replaced by an animal that was shamelessly obsessed with the way you felt. “look at you,” he growled, “on your knees—hngh—just like i knew you’d be. you’re so much worse than your mother. you’re—fuck!—you’re a goddamn addict.”

the thought of your mother flashed through your mind, but it didn’t bring guilt. it brought a sick, ecstatic rush. you were being claimed by the man she brought into the family to fill a void, and he was filling you instead. 

it was a deep betrayal. you were his step-daughter, the one he was supposed to protect, but now he was treating your pussy like a piece of meat he owned.

“i’m yours, toji!—ah, ah!—” you screamed as your fingers clawed at the sheets, almost tearing it. your face was distorted, eyes squeezed shut as your head thrashed against his grip. “fuck me harder! break it—fuck—break everything!”

toji let out a long moan that sounded like a snarl as he increased the pace, his hand never let go of your hair, keeping you pinned as he hammered into you. 

his eyes were everywhere. especially the part where your breasts were swinging wildly and while your body was vibrating with the force of his thrusts.

“i’m gonna—hngh—i’m gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he hissed. “you hear me? no one’s ever gonna—fuck—touch you like this.”

you felt the pressure building, that itch inside you were starting to become restless, like it wanted to be free that you started to shake,making your pussy clench so hard it forced a groan out of him. “toji, i’m—oh god—i’m cumming!”

you buckled and your body erupted with a jetting squirt soaking the sheets and his thighs as you came. at the exact same moment, toji let out a final, deafening moan, gripping on your thigh harder as he buried himself to the hilt.

he thrusts his hips one last time, pinning you down as he pumped load after load of cum deep into your aching pussy.

he stayed there for a long time, just letting his dick pulse inside you as the silence returned to the room. the only sound was your heavy and sharp breaths.

“you’re a mess,” he finally muttered and leaned down to bite the back of your neck.

you had both crashed into a deep, drug-like sleep, after all those hours of fucking. you were like animals in heat who refused to stop unless your bodies could not take it anymore. in return, you were given the kind of sleep that only comes after your body has been completely emptied out. 

when you finally woke up, the sun was already setting. you’re surprised to even wake up after just a few hours, because you’d expected to at least sleep for the next 12 hours based on how fucking aggressive toji got with you.

you sat in the kitchen now, wrapped in a clean robe, picking at a plate of pasta. as you ate, your mind was a mess. 

if you think about it, you’re beautiful and filthy rich. you had guys at uni who would literally crawl through glass just to take you on a date. and yet, none of them mattered. why? 

the thought that toji was nearly ten years older than you didn’t disgust you. instead, it fueled you, and that’s exactly why you’re questioning your taste in men now. 

your resolve was gone, you don’t even remember if that resolve existed in the first place. you were completely out of it, you did not care about the boundaries you’ve crossed by getting it with him, and you did not try to think too much of the consequences that might happen if your mother finds out.

no shit. 

next thing you know, toji was walking into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

his hair was a mess, and his skin was covered with red marks where your fingernails had dragged across his back and chest. some hickeys are also peeking from his neck and collarbone. he looked bored, as if he hadn’t just spent the last six hours systematically ruining you.

he leaned against the kitchen island, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you eat. his presence alone made the room feel smaller.

“you’re still awake,” he muttered huskily, still carrying sleep in his voice. “i figured you’d be out for the night after that.”

‘yeah, i figured too,’ you’d think. now that he mentioned it, you might still be carrying that pack of adrenaline in your system, that’s why you woke up early. and seeing him almost naked in front of you reminded you of how strong that adrenaline is.

you weren’t even ovulating to begin with.

“i’m hungry,” you said simply, as your eyes wander slowly over the hard lines of his stomach, the way his muscles rippled even when he was just standing still. “you worked me pretty hard.”

you twirled a bit of pasta onto your spoon and held it out toward him. toji didn’t move for a second and just stared at you, checking to see if you were being sarcastic. then, he leaned in, parting his lips as he took the food from your hand.

you watched his jaw work as he chewed, tracing the thick column of his throat as he swallowed. 

you were internally devouring him.

starting from his scars, the sheer size of him, the way he looked at you like you were a problem he needs to run away from. 

the dynamic was sick. 

and in your mind, he’s all yours. flesh, bones, and soul. all of him. yours.

“good?” you whispered as your thumb ghosted near his lip to catch a stray bit of sauce.

toji reached out, catching your wrist. he licked the sauce off your thumb, without breaking eye contact.

“it’ll do,” he said. “but i can think of something else i’d rather be tasting.”

you didn’t need to rush; you needed to be consumed. your mother is four days away from coming home. so, you’re taking your fucking time with toji. 

he reached out, hooking his hands under your armpits and hoisted you onto the marble counter. your plate of pasta was pushed aside, nearly clattering to the floor, as he stepped between your thighs and forced them wide open, pinning your knees side by side.

“fuck the food,” he growled. 

he dropped to his knees and his massive chest filled the gap between your legs. 

when you felt his hot breath touching your pussy, you let out a jagged moan. he wasn’t even eating you yet, and you’re already feeling this way. 

you reached down, tangling your fingers desperately in his messy hair, pulling him closer as if you could fuse your bodies together. the sight of him burying his face in you was one of your answered prayers. at this point, you’re almost convinced that someone, somewhere is granting your fuckass wishes.

when toji licked you, it wasn’t a gentle lap, it was a broad stroke of his tongue from the bottom of your opening all the way up to your clit. 

you arched your back. “toji—ah!—god, you... you eat so fucking good.”

he was relentless. 

his mouth was everywhere, swirling his tongue around your clit while he sucked on your sensitive folds. the wet, slapping sounds of his mouth filled the kitchen, punctuated by his own muffled moans of satisfaction. 

he was eating you like he was starving, like he wanted to taste every single drop of the obsession you had for him.

“does it—hngh—does it taste good, toji?” your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him harder against you. “is it better than her? tell me it’s better.”

toji didn’t pull his mouth away, but he reached up with his hand, shoving three thick fingers deep into your dripping pussy. he started pumping them violently, stretching you out while his tongue continued to lash at your clit.

“shut up and leak for me,” he muttered against your skin. 

you were losing your mind. the combination of his fingers hammering inside you and his mouth working you over was too much. 

you were whimpering, your legs were shaking against his shoulders as you felt the pressure build. 

you didn’t want it to end. you wanted to stay on this counter forever, being used by him while the rest of the world ceased to exist.

“toji, please—ah!—i'm gonna—fuck!”

your  hips were jerking uncontrollably as you came for god knows how much that day, a hot spray of your juices hit his face and toji chose to stay right there, lapping up every bit of your climax until you were both left breathless in the quiet kitchen.

the next three days were a series of pure depravity. the house didn’t feel like a home anymore; it was a cage, and you were both animals. 

the boundaries of who he was to you had been completely incinerated. there was no conversation that didn’t end in a moan and no room that remained untouched by your cums. 

You just fucked until your skin was bruised and your voice was hoarse, and still, it wasn’t enough.

the risk only made the adrenaline sharper.

at one point, your mother called him on video. toji sat on the edge of the bed, he was holding bored facade as he spoke to her about wedding plans and flight times. he looked perfectly normal from the waist up, but hidden beneath the camera's view, you were on your knees between his legs. 

you were giving him a slow, lewd blowjob. purposely locking your eyes locked on his as you swirled your tongue around the head of his dick, trying your absolute best to make him crack. toji didn’t flinch, but as a form of response, his hand found the back of your head, fingers digging into your hair as he grunted slightly.

then there were the online classes. 

you’d be sitting at your desk, the camera was turned off with your reason of not feeling well (it worked), nodding along to a lecture on corporate law. 

while the lecture was going on, toji was behind you, hunched over as he hammered his dick into you from behind.you had to be very controlled with your moans unless you wanted the whole class to hear your animalistic moans. so, you clench your jaw to keep from screaming as he hits your cervix with every thrust. 

the bathroom was the absolute war zone. 

you’d be trying to wash the scent of him off you, only for him to kick the door open and pin you against the cold tile. 

you nearly broke the marble sink as he bent you over it, he was going at it hard, and you’re taking him every bit of his thrusts. the steam filled the room as he fucked you in positions that made your bones ache. 

even the kitchen wasn’t safe. you’d be standing at the stove, trying to focus on cooking a simple dinner, when you’d feel his presence behind you. without a word, he’d hitch your skirt up and drop to his knees, his tongue immediately darting out to lick your ass out of nowhere. 

you’d gasp, nearly dropping the pan as he worked you over right there on the floor. but in the end, you loved every fucking second. 

it was a mess. 

you were an obsessed brat, and he was a shameless guy who had found a new, more dangerous way to earn his keep. 

for a chill girl like you, it’s too obsessive to be watching naoya zenin’s stream on your second screen right now, all while you’re timing your queue with him for the past hour. 

his face cam showed the usual look of pure, unadulterated arrogance, his dyed hair messy, and a headset resting over his ears, the other pair of it slid backwards from his ear, showing his piercings there.

he was of course, in the middle of a fucking rant, leaning into his mic to insult a viewer who had the audacity to donate five dollars just to ask for gameplay tips.

“tips? you want tips from me?” naoya scoffed. “here’s a tip: sell your pc and buy a soul, you fucking loser. don’t ever talk to me like we’re on the same level just because you dropped a fiver.”

the chat was moving at light speed. half of them were simping for his degradation, and the other half were spamming ‘lmao’ or ‘classic naoya.’ he didn’t give a shit and just refreshed his queue.

you’ve been trying to snipe his lobby because you hated this prick. he was talented at valorant, sure, but his personality was a literal biohazard. that made you want to see him lose his mind on stream, and you were petty enough to stay up all night to make it happen.

match found.

the map was bind and you checked the scoreboard immediately. 

there he was: ‘zenin_nao’ playing jett, because of course he was. 

you picked chamber to counter then cracked your knuckles. 

“oh, look at this,” naoya muttered on stream, squinting at the screen. “another fanboy in my lobby. ‘guest_01’? what a pathetic fucking name. hope you’re ready to get carried or get flamed, i’m not in the mood for dead weight.”

the game loaded in, and before the barriers even dropped, you hit shift+enter.

all [guest_01]: sup, princess. try not to cry on stream when you lose k?

naoya paused, his character frozen for a second as he read it. then he let out a mocking laugh. “this nobody really has balls. you hear this shit?” he said to his chat, his eyes widening. “humble me? you couldn’t humble me if i played with one hand tied behind my back, you little shit.”

you weren’t done. you knew exactly how to get under the skin of a guy whose ego was his only personality trait.

all [guest_01]: lets make it interesting then. 

all [guest_01]: if i headshot you three times this game, you send a dick pic.

the chat erupted. 

the scrolling text became a literal series of ‘OH SHIT’, ‘WTF’, and ‘CLIP IT’. naoya’s face went from smug to a shade of insulted red in record time. he leaned so close to the camera to the point that his nose was almost touching it.

“you fucking what?” he hissed, voice dropping. “you think you’re funny? i’ll fucking hunt you down. i’m going to make sure you uninstall this game by the time we hit round twelve. you’re dead, you hear me? you’re fucking dead.”

the barriers dropped.

naoya played like a demon, fueled by pure spite. he dashed into a-short, looking for an early pick, but you were holding a tight angle with a headhunter. 

you didn’t panic one bit, his degradations are nothing on you, he can’t possibly kill you with trash talking you like that. 

you waited for that silver hair to peek.

crack.

the kill feed showed your name and a golden crosshair next to his.

all [guest_01]: 1/3.

“fuck!” naoya slammed his desk and the sound echoed through his shitty mic. “that was luck! he was holding a pixel, what a fucking rat! stay in your hole, you coward!”

even now, he addresses you as ‘he’. just imagine his fucking reaction when he learns you’re a girl who’s clapping his ass. 

his chat was losing it, mocking him, which only made him tilt harder. 

by round five, he was playing sloppy, overpeeking everything because he was desperate to kill you and tea bag your corpse.

you caught him again on a mid rotation. he tried to updraft over a smoke, and you clipped his head mid-air with a vandal.

all [guest_01]: 2/3. hope you’re picking a good filter, nao-chan.

naoya was vibrating with rage now. he wasn’t even calling out for his team anymore. instead, he was busy cursing at his monitor while his face contorted. “i’m going to ruin you! i’ll find out who you are and i’ll fucking end you! shut up! chat, shut the fuck up before i ban every single one of you!”

the game went on and your team was winning, mostly because naoya was throwing his life away just to find you. what a pathetic loser.

this time, naoya was tucked in a corner on b-site, waiting. you knew he was there. so you threw a trademark to slow him, then swung wide. he fired and missed by an inch, giving you the opportunity to click.

headshot.

naoya’s face on your second monitor was a deep, humiliated shade of red, his veins were practically popping out of his neck as he glared at the screen. he had just been revived by his sage, only for you to instantly dome him again from across the map with a guardian.

“fuck! are you kidding me with this shit?” he screamed, slamming his fist onto his desk so hard his webcam shook. “he’s cheating! he’s definitely fucking cheating! nobody hits those shots on a moving target, i don’t care who you are!”

the chat was a dumpster fire. they were tagging him, laughing at him, and clip chiming every single death. 

naoya was usually the one doing the bullying, so seeing him get systematically dismantled by a ‘random’ (worse, is a girl) was high-tier entertainment for his miserable followers.

you leaned into your keyboard as your smirk widened. the ‘dick pic’ threat had already turned him into a stuttering mess, but you wanted to see him actually break.

all [guest_01]: you’re playing like a boosted silver, nao.

all [guest_01]: new deal since you’re so easy to hit.

all [guest_01]: if i headshot you one more time this half, the pic isn’t enough. you’re gonna have to go on cam and masturbate for me.

the stream went dead silent for a second. naoya stared at the chat box with his mouth hanging open. he looked genuinely stunned, feeling his ego finally hit a wall. then, the chat exploded into a literal wall of ‘???’ and ‘NO WAY’ and ‘DO IT’.

“you... you sick fucking freak,” naoya spat with his trembling voice. “you think i’m some cam girl? you think you can talk to me like that? i’m naoya zenin! i'll have your fucking ip tracked before the next round starts!”

but he didn’t leave the game. he was too prideful to forfeit, and too obsessed with proving he was better than you.

round nine. 

bind, defense side. 

naoya was playing u-hall, holding the angle with an operator, his hands were visibly shaking on the mouse. 

he was terrified that every time he peeked, he was thinking about your threat. he was tilted out of his mind, overthinking every micro movement.

you didn’t even use a real gun now. you pulled out the sheriff and jiggled the corner, baiting out his op shot. 

thump. 

he missed and the bullet hit the wall behind you.

“fuck! fuck! fuck!” he yelled, frantically trying to cycle his bolt.

you swung wide and you immediately saw his silver haired jett frantically trying to pull out a pistol. you took a breath, lined up the crosshair with his forehead, and clicked.

pop.

all [guest_01]: 4/3.

all [guest_01]: hope you’ve got the lotion ready, princess. i’m waiting.

naoya didn’t scream this time. he just slumped back in his expensive gaming chair, staring at the ‘killed by’ screen with a look of pure, hollowed out defeat. his chat was filled with ‘CAM ON’ and ‘PAY UP’.

he leaned forward on his face cam and his eyes dark and narrowed. “you think you won? you think you can just embarrass me like this and walk away?” he hissed. “i’m going to find out who you are. and when i do, i’m going to make you regret every single word you typed in that fucking box.”

he didn’t end the stream immediately. he just sat there, breathing hard, looking like he was debating whether to actually follow through or just smash his monitor into pieces. 

all [guest_01]: stop barking and start working that hand, nao-chan. everyone’s waiting.

he let out a jagged, frustrated breath and finally ripped his headset off, throwing it against the wall. 

the stream cut to a ‘technical difficulties’ screen, but you knew you had burrowed deep under his skin. 

the next evening, you were just lounging in the main menu while your agent was standing idle. 

you were scrolling on your phone when suddenly, the notification chime hit.

friend request: zenin_nao

the sight of his username made you wheeze. 

the prick actually did it. he probably spent all night scrubbing through the match history and seething. 

you clicked accept, and not even three seconds later, the party invite popped up. of course, you joined and the second your icon appeared in his lobby, his voice cracked through the headset. 

although he sounded harsh, he was obviously incredibly stressed.

“you. guest_01. you better have a fucking mic,” naoya snapped. his voice sounded like he hadn’t slept a wink.

you keyed your mic, leaning back with a grin. “keep your pants on, nao-chan. i’m here.”

there was a deafening silence. 

you could almost hear his brain short-circuiting through the fiber optics. 

naoya, the guy who spent his entire career preaching about how women were ‘naturally inferior’ at everything from breathing to gaming, just realized he got clapped by a girl.

“fuck... you’re a girl?” he stuttered. “you’re kidding me, no fucking way. you’re using a voice changer. there’s no way some bitch hit those shots. you were cheating… you had to be.”

“cry harder,” you laughed, the sound loud and clear. “i clapped you on stream in front of thirty thousand people. you lost the bet. so, are we doing this, or are you a bigger coward than i thought?”

“shut the fuck up!” he yelled, though you can feel his embarrassment have doubled now. “listen to me. i’m not— i’m not doing that shit on cam. do you have any idea what that would do to my family name?”

“not my problem,” you countered. “you talked all that trash, called me a ‘nobody’, and you said you’d ruin me. turns out you’re the one getting ruined by a ‘nobody’. pay up, zenin.”

you heard him pacing. the rustle of his clothes, the heavy, frustrated sighs. he sounded like a cornered animal.

“look,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, desperate mumble. “let’s... let’s negotiate. i’ll give you skins. i’ll give you whatever fucking radiant points or gift cards you want. i’ll even duo with you and carry your ass to immortal. just... drop the bet. tell my chat it was a scripted bit or something.”

“carry me?” you snorted. 

this guy is a fucking loser, indeed! 

“nao, i carried you in that lobby. your aim is shaky and dogshit. why would i want to duo with a loser?”

“i’m not a loser!” he barked, slamming something, probably his desk again. “i’m the best player on this fucking server! you just got lucky! fine, you want something else? money? i have more money than you’ll ever see in your pathetic life. name a price to shut your mouth.”

you let out a low, amused laugh, leaning back in your chair as you listened to the frantic tapping of his fingers against a desk. 

“money is boring, naoya. i want you to actually stick to your word for once in your pathetic life. you lost. and now the whole internet is waiting to see if the great naoya zenin is a liar or a man of his word.”

“i’m not a fucking liar!” he exploded. “but i’m not doing it on stream! do you have any idea how many people are watching? if i do that shit on cam, it’s over. my career, my family name, everything— gone because of some bratty girl who got lucky with a vandal.”

he paused, and you could hear him taking a shaky, sharp breath. 

he sounded like he was pacing his room, cornered and frantic.

“look,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a cautious tone. “i’ll... i’ll do it. but not over the internet. i’m not giving you a recording you can blackmail me with for the rest of my life. i’m not that fucking stupid.”

your eyebrows shot up. “oh? you’re suggesting a meetup? that’s bold for a guy who just got his ego trashed.”

“shut up,” he snapped. “i have a private suite in the city. it’s safe there. no cameras, no recording devices. you come there, i do what you want, and then we never speak again. you delete the chat logs, you tell your friends it was a joke, and we’re done.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “a private suite? naoya, do i look stupid? how do i know you’re not just planning to have me kidnapped or some shit to save your reputation? you’re a prick, i wouldn’t put it past you.”

the silence on the other end lasted for a few seconds before he let out a insulted scoff. 

“kidnapped? you think i’m some low life criminal? i’m a zenin. i have more pride in my pinky finger than you have in your entire body. if i wanted you gone, i’d have bought your house and turned it into a parking lot by now.”

he sounded genuinely offended, his elitist pride flaring up. 

“i don’t need to kidnap a girl to win an argument. i’m giving you my word because i’m a man who doesn’t owe anyone shit, especially not a coward who’s scared to meet me face-to-face. i’ll send you the address and the keycode. you show up, or you admit you’re just a loud mouthed bitch who’s too scared to collect her prize.”

you could practically hear the smug, challenging smirk returning to his face. 

he was backed into a corner, but he was still trying to find a way to make it look like he was the one in control.

“fine,” you said. “send the address.”

the address was for a high-rise penthouse indeed. 

you rode the elevator up in silence and when the doors dinged open, you walked straight to the suite number he’d sent. 

you didn’t even knock, you just punched in the code and you’re in. 

the place was spacious and clean. 

filled with expensive furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and naoya standing by a white marble kitchen island. 

he was wearing a designer sweater, looking like he was posing for a magazine cover, but his knuckles were white where he was gripping the edge of the counter.

he turned around, ready to spit out some elitist insult about how ‘ugly’ or ‘pathetic’ you probably were, but the words died in his throat. 

his eyes traveled from your boots up to your face, and his smug expression didn’t just fade, it transformed into an obvious wide-eyed bafflement.

“you…” he trailed off, his jaw tightening. 

he clearly expected a stereotypical girl he could bully in person. 

but instead, he was looking at someone who looked like they actually had a life outside of a discord server. 

“you’re guest_01? no fucking way.”

“what? disappointed i don’t have a neckbeard, princess?” you smirked, tossing your bag onto his overpriced sofa. 

you didn’t give him a second to recover. “i’m not here to small talk. i’ve got things to do. strip. now.”

naoya flinched. “don’t— don’t talk to me like that! you think you can just walk into my house and start ordering me around?”

“the bet was the bet, naoya. you lost. your pride is already in the trash, don’t make me wait.”

he went to open his mouth, but a sharp knock at the door interrupted him. 

when it opened, one of his helpers, a guy in a suit who looked more like a bodyguard, stepped in. 

naoya cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of authority.

“your phone, please,” the guy said, holding out a hand toward you.

“and any recording devices,” naoya added. “he’s going to take your electronics to the other room. if you want this to happen, you play by my rules. i’m not having a single pixel of this recorded.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling your phone and your smartwatch off and dropping them into the guy’s hand. 

as the door closed and the bodyguard left with your stuff, you turned back to naoya and let out a mocking laugh.

“are you fucking serious right now?” you stepped closer, watching him instinctively take a half-step back. “a bodyguard, naoya? really? you’re such a fucking baby. you’re so terrified of a girl that you need a grown man to hold my phone for you? god, you’re even more pathetic in person than you are on stream.”

naoya’s eyes flashed with pure, unadulterated rage. “i’m being careful! i’m not taking any chances with my reputation.”

“your reputation is already ‘guy who got gapped by a girl’,” you countered, crossing your arms. “now stop stalling and get those clothes off. or do i need to call your guard back in to help you unzip your pants since you’re clearly too shaking to do it yourself?”

his teeth literally grinded together. 

he reached for the hem of his sweater, his fingers twitching. “i’m going to make you regret this,” he hissed, though the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes told a completely different story.

you walked over to a leather armchair positioned perfectly opposite the island and dropped into it, crossing your legs. you leaned your chin on your hand, watching him strip his clothes for you.

“well?” you prompted. “i’m waiting, nao-chan. clocks ticking.”

naoya let out a frustrated snarl, his fingers trembling as he gripped the hem of his designer sweater and yanked it over his head. 

his hair was a mess, falling over his eyes as he tossed the garment onto the marble floor.

you had to admit, the prick was built. 

he wasn’t just some skinny gamer who lived on energy drinks; his chest was lean but defined, with pale, smooth skin and sharp collarbones. 

his abs were tight, a clear v-line disappearing into the waistband of his expensive trousers. 

he looked like a goddamn model, and the realization that he actually took care of himself made the humiliation of the situation ten times more potent.

“stop... stop staring at me like that,” he hissed, his voice cracking as he reached for his belt.

he stepped out of his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. 

he was stalling, his face a deep, bruised red, but he couldn’t fill your silence with his usual trash talk. he eventually hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers and pushed them down, kicking them away with a jerky, humiliated movement.

your breath hitched in your throat, and for the first time since you entered the room, the smug comment you had ready upon seeing his dick died on your tongue.

the guy was fucking massive. 

even when soft, he was heavy and thick, hanging with a weight that felt completely at odds with his lean, lithe frame. 

as he stood there, completely exposed and shivering from the vulnerability, you felt a sudden, traitorous throb between your own thighs. 

you can’t believe you’re actually wetting yourself from the mere sight of his private part. 

you had come here to ruin him, to laugh at him, but looking at him like this; packing like a monster, made you feel on edge too.

“you’re... you’re a freak,” naoya muttered, though his eyes were glued to the floor, unable to meet your gaze. 

he was shaking, obviously because his pride was at war with the biological reality of being naked in front of a girl who had just spent the last forty-eight hours destroying his ego.

you shifted in the chair, feeling the wetness of your own underwear, your heart hammering against your ribs. 

“you talk a lot of shit for someone who looks like that, naoya,” you said, your voice a little huskier than you intended. “are you just going to stand there and let me admire the view, or are you going to start?”

he finally looked up, his golden-brown eyes narrowed and wet with frustrated tears, his chest heaving. “i hate you,” he whispered, his hand finally reaching down to wrap around himself. 

his fingers could barely even close around the girth of it. “i fucking hate you so much.”

“good,” you breathed, leaning forward, your eyes fixed on his hand. “now show me what those hands can do, princess.”

naoya’s hand finally closed around himself. it was fucking absurd, his body was lean and wiry, built like an athlete, but between his legs, he was carrying a monster. 

the head was already peeking out, pink and thick, and as he started to move his hand in a slow stroke, the skin stretched tight over the shaft, revealing the pulsing veins that made your own pussy throb in sync with his heartbeat.

“look at you,” you purred, leaning so far forward in the chair that you could smell the expensive cologne still clinging to his bare skin. “you’re shaking, nao-chan. is the big, bad streamer scared of a little audience? or is it just because you know how much of a pathetic slut you look like right now, naked and jerking off because a girl told you to?”

“shut the fuck up,” he hissed, his voice dropping into a strained rasp. 

he was starting to get hard, and as he did, the size of him became even more terrifying. 

his dick was lengthening, thickening until it the tip was weeping a bead of pre-cum. 

“i’m only doing this so you’ll leave me the fuck alone. don’t— fuck— don’t think this means anything.”

“it means everything,” you countered, your hand sliding down between your own thighs, feeling the soaked fabric of your panties. 

you were fucking dripping while watching his dick slide in and out of his grip, seeing the way his abs rippled with every strained breath, was making you lose your goddamn mind. 

“it means you’re my bitch. every time you go live from now on, every time you talk shit to some kid in chat, you’re gonna remember sitting here like a dog, tossing your own salad for me.”

naoya’s eyes snapped to yours, full of pure, concentrated hatred, but his body was betraying him. 

his strokes were getting faster, more desperate. the slapping sound of his palm hitting his own thighs was loud and echoing in the room. 

he was fully erect now, making his dick look like it would split you in half if he ever got his hands on you. 

the sight of it made a fresh wave of wetness burst from your pussy, soaking your seat.

fuck.

“you like it, don't you?” he suddenly spat. 

he defininitely saw the way your eyes were glued to his cock, and they way you keep shifting in your seat. 

“you’re fucking soaking wet just looking at me. you’re probably just some lonely bitch who sniped my game because you wanted a piece of this, didn’t you? you’re pathetic.”

“maybe,” you whispered, not even bothering to deny it as you watched him pump that massive dick, his thumb rubbing over the head. “but at the end of the day, i’m the one sitting in the chair, and you’re the one performing like a circus animal. keep going, princess. i want to see you blow that load all over your expensive floor. i want to see how much of a mess a prick like you makes.”

naoya let out a choked, broken sound, his head tossing back as his pace became faster. 

he was close, his entire body tensing up, muscles popping in his arms and chest as he neared the edge, his cock twitching violently in his hand.

naoya was losing his fucking mind. 

he was flushed from his chest up to his ears, a mess of sweat and pure, raw humiliation. every time his palm slapped against the base of his throbbing cock, he’d let out a little grunt that he tried to swallow down.

you didn’t stay in the chair as well. you can’t…

you wanted to make him feel shit as much as you can, to make sure he understands that you were the one totally in control right now… and that he’s just your little bitch with a show right now. 

you stood up slowly and walked over to him until you were standing right in his personal space. 

the smell of his pre-cum hit you immediately.

“you’re losing steam, princess,” you whispered, circling him. “honestly, this is getting a little boring. i thought the great naoya zenin would be a lot more into this. are you not horny enough? or is your dick just too big for your tiny ego to handle?”

“shut— fuck— shut up,” he gasped, his eyes blown out and hazy as he stared at your waist. “i’m... i’m almost…”

“almost isn’t good enough,” you interrupted, stepping directly in front of him. “do i really have to do everything for you? do i have to actually put in effort to get this pathetic little streamer in the mood?”

you reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt, the one he’d discarded earlier, and tossed it aside, then leaned in. 

you pressed your chest right against his face. 

and he immediately realized that you weren’t wearing a bra, and the soft weight of your breasts smothered his mouth and nose, burying him in your scent.

naoya made a muffled, strangled sound against your skin, his hands pausing on his dick for a split second before he absolutely lost it. 

you shoved his face deeper into your cleavage, allowing his nose to brush against the underside of your tits as he let out a long, shaky moan. 

“there we go,” you cooed, your hands reaching down to cup the back of his head, forcing him even deeper into your chest. “is that better, nao-chan? feel how wet i am for you? it’s almost a waste to let all that go to the floor, isn’t it?”

the contact turned him into an animal. 

his grip on his cock became frantic as he buried his face in your tits like a starving man, turning his muffled moans into desperate, shaky whimpers. 

“that’s it,” you hissed, feeling your own pussy clench and leak another wave of juice down your legs as he nuzzled frantically between your breasts. “show me what a pathetic, needy dog you are. cum for me, naoya. blow it all over yourself while you hide your face like a coward.”

he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

with one final, deep groan, his body went rigid. 

he slammed his hand down the length of his cock one last time, and a thick, hot jet of cum erupted from the tip, hitting his own stomach and the floor. 

he kept shooting, ropes of white splattering everywhere as his massive dick convulsed wildly in his hand.

he stayed buried in your breasts long after he finished, his breath hot and shaky against your skin, his body trembling as the post-nut clarity and the crushing weight of his own humiliation finally started to sink in.

you stood there for a moment, just feeling his breath against your skin as he slumped against you, completely spent. 

his dick was still twitching in his hand, while he kept his face buried between your tits like he was trying to hide from the reality of what just happened.

you let out a mocking laugh and reached down, running your fingers through his messy hair, tugging just enough to force him to look up at you. 

his face was a disaster; flushed, eyes glassy and blown out, and his lips parted as he gasped for air.

“look at you,” you giggled. “such a good, obedient little boy. you did exactly what i told you to do, nao-chan.”

he tried to scowl, tried to find some remnant of that sharp-tongued prick he was on stream, but he couldn’t find the words. 

he was too far gone. “i... i fucking hate you,” he managed to wheeze out, though his hands were still resting weakly on your hips, keeping you close.

“shhh,” you whispered, leaning down. “you’ve earned a little reward.”

you didn’t give him a choice. 

you pressed your lips to his, and for a split second, he froze, his brain probably screaming at him to pull away. 

but then his ego snapped. he let out a desperate moan into your mouth, then his hands went up to cup your face with a violent sort of need.

it wasn’t a sweet kiss. you wouldn’t call it sweet if you shoved your tongue into his mouth, right? 

naoya met you head-on, his tongue fighting yours, twisting as he tried to reclaim some shred of dominance. he was devouring you, his fingers digging into your cheeks.

when you finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected your lips before breaking. 

naoya looked absolutely wrecked, his chest heaving, his eyes darting to your mouth as his head instinctively leaned forward to chase you, begging for more without saying a word.

“stay,” you commanded, stepping back and watching his face fall. “and clean up your mess. i’m leaving.”

later that evening, you were curled up on your bed, scrolling through the clips of his ‘technical difficulties’ stream from the day before. the comments were still a war zone of people wondering if he’d actually followed through on the bet.

your phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

a message from an unsaved number.

[unknown]: you’re a fucking witch. i don’t know what you did to me.

[unknown]: my dick is still hard. fuck.

you smiled. 

because he was clearly obsessed. 

the arrogant, untouchable naoya zenin was officially on a leash, and he was the one pulling on it.

[you]: ready for round two, princess? or do you need to buy more lotion first?

it’s been a few weeks since that night in the penthouse, and the internet is basically in a state of permanent cardiac arrest. 

naoya’s stream schedule has completely changed and started revolving around yours. 

he went from swearing he’d have you banned and erased from the face of the earth to being in your lobby every single fucking day.

what’s even funnier is that…

the first time he admitted it on stream, he looked like he wanted to swallow a grenade. 

“yeah, it’s the same bitch,” he had spat at his chat, his face turning that familiar shade of red. “she’s annoying as hell, but she’s the only one in this game who can keep up with my utility. shut up about the bet, or i’m banning the next ten people who type ‘dick pic’.”

now, it’s just your routine. 

not only you, in fact. 

but his too. 

you’re sitting at your desk, headset on, watching his face cam on your second monitor as you both queue for another match.

“buy me a vandal, nao,” you sweetly demanded with a breathy whisper. 

“buy it yourself, you lazy brat,” naoya snaps, though he’s already clicking the buy button for you. “i’m top fragging. i shouldn’t be funding your shitty habits.”

the game starts, and you’re playing sage.

ironic, considering how much he hates being ‘subservient’. 

so you’re now following his jett around, walling off his flanks and keeping his health topped off while he dashes around like a maniac.

“heal! heal me now!” he shot called as he ducks behind a crate with 12 hp.

“what’s the magic word, princess?” you tease, holding the orb just out of range. “you know the rules. every time i save your ass, you bark for me. come on, let me hear it.”

“i am not fucking barking on stream!” naoya yells. he looks at his camera, seeing the chat spamming dog emojis. “get away from me! i’d rather die and lose the round than give you the satisfaction, you psycho!”

“suit yourself,” you chuckle, watching his health bar blink red. “guess you’ll just have to watch me top frag instead.”

he lets out a frustrated sound, more like a half growl and half whimper and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like a ‘woof’ under his breath just as you click the heal.

“good boy,” you purr.

the third teammate, a guy playing omen, finally chimes in. 

he’s been quiet all game, but clearly, he’s heard enough. 

“yo, sage... you’re actually hilarious. and your aim is cracked. you got a discord or something? i feel like we’d actually vibe way better than you and this loud mouthed clown.”

naoya’s character stops dead in its tracks. 

on the cam, his eyes narrow into slits, and he leans so close to his mic.

“who the fuck are you talking to?” naoya hisses, his voice dropping, a sign when he’s about to lose it. “did i ask for your input, you bottom-fragging piece of shit? she’s with me. pay attention to the map and keep your fucking mouth shut while we carry your heavy ass.”

“chill, man,” the omen laughs, oblivious to the fact that naoya is actually vibrating with rage. “i’m just saying, she’s a vibe. hey, guest_01, you ever played with a guy who doesn’t scream every five seconds? i could show you a much better time.”

naoya’s face is a mask of pure, unadulterated jealousy. 

he isn’t even looking at the game anymore; he’s glaring at the team chat. “get out,” he snaps. “hey! i said shut the fuck up! she’s mine! we’re in a duo for a reason, you desperate little rat! if you say one more word to her, i’ll find out where you live and personally make sure you never have internet access again!”

“jealous, nao-chan?” you ask mockingly. “he’s being much nicer to me than you’ve ever been.”

“i’m not jealous!” he screams at the monitor. “i just hate losers! and you— you don’t talk to anyone else! you’re my pocket sage, and if i catch you giving that omen a single drop of utility, i’m ending the stream!”

the chat is absolutely losing it.  

‘HE’S OBSESSED’ and ‘JEALOUS NAOYA’ scrolling so fast in his stream chat. 

he’s completely exposed himself, and the best part is, he’s too mad to even realize how much he’s admitting.

the game ended with naoya nearly popping a blood vessel, and ten minutes later, you were both in a private discord channel with him. 

the green light next to his name flickered as he unmuted. 

“you’re such a fucking headache,” he spat. “why didn’t you mute him? you just sat there and let that pathetic loser flirt with you. you probably liked it, didn’t you? getting attention from someone who doesn’t know what a massive pain in the ass you actually are.”

“oh, absolutely,” you hummed, leaning back and spinning in your chair. “he was sweet, naoya. he called me a ‘vibe’ and he complimented my aim. when was the last time you called me anything other than a ‘brat’ or a ‘psycho’? maybe i should’ve given him my discord. he sounded like he actually knows how to treat a girl.”

“don’t you fucking dare,” naoya hissed. “you’re not giving your discord to some bottom fragging nobody. you’re stuck with me.”

“you sound so insecure when you’re jealous, nao-chan. it’s cute,” you teased, enjoying the way he let out a frustrated breath. “it makes me wonder how you’re going to act next month. or did you not check your email yet?”

there was a pause, the sound of aggressive clicking filling the silence. “the valorant invitational expo?” he muttered, his voice shifting from angry to annoyed. “the one in the city? of course i’m invited. i’m the face of the regional server. wait…”

another pause. you could practically see the gears grinding in his head.

“don’t tell me,” he groaned. “don’t tell me they invited a random like you just because you sniped me on stream.”

“not a random, naoya. the top-ranked female player on the server,” you corrected him. “they want us there for a showmatch. they’re even putting our booths right next to each other. isn’t that sweet?”

“i’m going to kill someone,” naoya whispered, but he did not exactly sound angry. “two days of being stuck next to you? with cameras everywhere? with fans watching? i won’t be able to say half the shit i want to say to you.”

“is that right?” you laughed. “and what exactly is it that you want to say to me, naoya? or better yet, what do you want to ‘do’ to me? because the last time we were in a room together, you were the one with your face buried in my chest, crying like a baby while you came all over your floor.”

“i was not—! shut the fuck up!” he screamed, his voice cracking. “that was a one-time thing! a moment of weakness! if you bring that up at the expo, i will personally make sure you never see the light of day again!”

“hmm, we’ll see,” you said, clicking your tongue. “but just so you know, i’m wearing a sundress to the event. the kind that’s real easy to slide up.”

the silence on the other end was deafening. you could hear his shallow, shaky breathing, the sound of a man who was once again realizing he was completely and utterly fucked.

“you’re fucked up in the head,” he finally choked out. “i’m going to make your life a living hell at that expo. just wait.”

“i’m looking forward to it, princess,” you whispered. “don’t forget to pack the lotion. you’re gonna need it.”

then the day of the expo arrived. 

the convention center was a zoo, filled with the smell of expensive cooling fans and energy drinks. 

you could hear the loud cheer of the crowd from the main stage, but you were currently focused on the back entrance. 

you walked toward the ‘pro player’ lounge, and as soon as you pushed the doors open, you spotted him. 

naoya was surrounded by staff, looking bored and arrogant wearing a custom jersey. 

he was in the middle of sipping from a bottled water when his eyes landed on you.

naoya actually choked. 

he sputtered, water spraying down the front of his expensive shirt as he coughed violently. 

the staff around him scrambled to help, but he shoved them away, his eyes locked on you, specifically on the way the sundress clung to your hips and the deep dip of the neckline.

“you…” he wheezed, his face rapidly turning a shade of red. “what the fuck are you wearing? this is a professional event, not a—”

“not a what, naoya?” you asked, walking right up to him and patting his chest with a smirk. “you look a little hot. is the air conditioning not working in here, or are you just happy to see me?”

he looked like he wanted to scream and pull you into a closet at the same time. “you’re doing this on purpose,” he hissed, leaning down so only you could hear him over the noise of the convention. “you look like a bratty little slut. everyone’s staring at you. i can’t even stand up right now because of you.”

“good,” you whispered back, giving him a wink before heading toward the booths.

the day was a series of interviews and showmatches. 

naoya was a mess; every time you leaned over to check your monitor or reached up to adjust your headset, his aim would go to shit, causing his chat to have a field day, clipping every time he got distracted by you sitting just a few feet away.

once the first day wrapped up and the players were heading to their respective hotels. naoya was at the curb, waiting for his private car, looking exhausted and tense.

“where’s your ride?” he muttered as you walked up to him, your small suitcase trailing behind you. “your hotel is on the other side of the district, isn’t it?”

“was,” you corrected him, popping the trunk of his car before he could protest and tossing your bag inside. “i decided my room was too lonely. i’m staying with you.”

naoya’s jaw dropped. “the fuck you are! i didn’t agree to this! you can’t just—”

“i can and i am,” you said, sliding into the back seat and patting the spot next to you. “unless you want me to tell your manager why you were vibrating so hard during the third round of the showmatch. get in, nao-chan. we have a lot to talk about, and i don’t think a discord call is going to cut it tonight.”

the drive to the hotel was silent, mostly because naoya looked like he was one comment away from a total meltdown. 

his hand was resting on his lap, and you could see the way his knuckles were white, his eyes darting toward your legs every time the streetlights hit the car window.

the second the door to his suite clicked shut, he turned on you, slamming his hand against the wood next to your head.

“you’re a menace,” he growled darkly. “you show up in that dress, you humiliate me in front of my fans, and now you’re invading my room? you really think you can just keep pushing me like this without any consequences?”

“i’m counting on the consequences, naoya,” you said, reaching up to trail a finger along the collar of his jersey. “you’ve been acting so tough all day. why don’t you show me if you’re still a good boy when the cameras are off?”

he let out a jagged sound, his pride finally snapping as he grabbed your waist and hauled you flush against him. 

you could feel the hard ridge of his dick pressing into your stomach, even through the fabric of your dress.

“i’m going to ruin you,” he whispered against your lips. “i’m going to make sure you can’t even walk to the booth tomorrow.”

he slammed you back against the door, crashing his mouth onto yours violently. 

there was no teasing this time, no slow build-up. what’s left is just his raw, frantic need. 

he groaned into your throat as his hands flew to your chest, grabbing your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress.

“fuck,” he rasped against your lips, mounding your breast. “i’ve been wanting to rip these out of this goddamn dress since the second you walked into the lounge. you fucking brat.”

“ah— nao, wait—” you gasped, but the protest was swallowed by his tongue forcing its way back into your mouth. 

it was a messy, wet war between your tongues; fighting for space while you scrambled at the zipper of his jersey. your nails dug into his shoulders, pulling at the fabric.

naoya didn’t have the patience for zippers, so he hooked his fingers into the neckline of your sundress and yanked downward with a sharp rrip. 

the yellow fabric gave way, tearing down the middle and exposing your bare tits. he let out a jagged breath at the sight, his eyes dark and blown out.

“oh yes... look at you,” he hissed, his hands immediately cupping your breasts, and rolling his thumbs over your nipples until you let out a sharp, high pitched “ah!”

you didn’t stay still either. 

you fought back, yanking his jersey over his head and tossing it somewhere. 

your hands went straight for his belt, your fingers fumbling with the buckle in your haste. “get... get this off, naoya! fuck, you’re so slow!”

“shut up!” he growled, biting down on your bottom lip so hard you tasted the tang of blood. 

you bit him back, your teeth catching on his lip as you finally freed his dick from his pants. 

it sprang out, already standing proud and throbbing, slamming the head against your stomach.

he was fucking huge, even bigger and harder than you remembered, the thick veins pulsing against your skin. “uhm... god, naoya,” you moaned, your head tossing back against the door as he buried his face in your neck, leaving dark, bruised marks.

his hand slid down, his fingers roughly pushing aside your lace panties until he found your pussy.

 you were a complete mess, dripping wet and your juices immediately coated his fingers the second he touched you.

“you’re soaking,” he muttered. “look at how much of a slut you are for me. you’re practically leaking all over the floor.”

“fuck you, naoya! ah— right there!” you cried out as he shoved two fingers deep inside you while his thumb grinding against your clit. 

you were clenching around him, your walls pulsing with a desperate need to be filled by the real thing. 

“stop talking and... and put it in. i want it now.”

he let out a low, animalistic sound, his teeth grazing over your collarbone. 

he was shaking, his pride is completely gone, replaced by a twitching need to claim you. his massive dick was rubbing against your wet slit, smearing pre-cum all over your folds.

naoya didn’t let you breathe. 

before you could even process the weight of him against the door, he hooked his arms under your thighs and hauled you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. 

your torn dress hanging off your hips in shreds as he stumbled toward the bed, tripping over his own discarded pants. he threw you onto the mattress, but he didn’t give you a second to recover.

“you’ve been running your mouth all day,” he rasped, licking his lips. “time to put it to better use.”

he stood at the edge of the bed, leveling his throbbing dick which was already standing tall and angry. he reached down, fisting his fingers into your hair and pulling your head toward him. 

“suck it. i want to feel how much you missed me.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. you leaned forward, darting your tongue out to lick the length of himt. 

when you finally took him into your mouth, you let out a muffled “uhm!” the sheer length of him made your jaw ache instantly.

naoya let out a long, shaky groan, his hand tightening in your hair, forcing you deeper onto him. 

“fuck... yes, just like that. you’re so good at this, aren't you? ah! fuck, your tongue—!” 

he was even thrusting his hips instinctively, his breath coming in jagged hitches as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. 

he held your head in place like he was holding on for his dear life just from the sensation of you giving him a head, his body vibrating with the effort not to blow his load right then and there.

but you weren’t done being the one in control. 

you pulled back with a wet pop, looking up at him with a defiant, hungry smirk. 

before he could complain, you shoved him back onto the pillows and crawled over him. you positioned yourself over his face, your dripping, swollen pussy hovering just inches from his mouth. 

you could see his eyes widen, his breath hitching as the scent of your own juices hit him.

“sit on me,” he choked out, his hands reaching up to grab your ass, fingers digging into your skin. “do it, fuck, i want to taste you.”

you lowered yourself slowly and your wet slit pressed firmly against his lips. “ah! yes... fuck, naoya!” you cried out as his tongue immediately lashed out, making sure he’s darting deep inside you. 

he was eating you like a starving man, kissing your pussy sensually while swirling his tongue up and down your clit. constantly teasing and constantly sucking at the same time. 

“uhm—! ah! right there, nao! fuck!” you arched your back, your hands clutching the headboard as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his fingers reaching around to pull your cheeks apart so he could get even deeper. 

the sensation was overwhelming, his tongue was literally making your pussy lick more from licking to sucking. 

he’s making you see stars while your pussy is clenching rhythmically, splashing more of your juice onto his face.

“you taste... so fucking good,” he managed to gasp out between licks, his voice muffled by your folds. “ah! fuck, look at how much you’re leaking for me. you’re a fucking mess. you’re my bitch, you got that?!”

“shut up and... ah! keep going! yes! ah! ah! ah!” you were losing it, your entire body was shaking as the first wave of an orgasm started to build up, and your internal muscles squeezing tightly around nothing while naoya continued to devour you with a relentless hunger.

it did not take a while before you were screaming stop and holding his face back, forcing him to stop licking because you were literally about to pee on his face. 

the sensation was too much and it was tickling your sexual soul so much that his tongue was doing you all the favors that him eating you out felt much greater than when you were touching yourself. 

he ate your clit and inserted his tongue inside your pussy with intent and naoya didn’t even give you a second to breathe after you came on his face. 

he growled and grabbed your hips, flipping you over onto your back violently. 

he was panting, his face smeared with your juices, his hair a mess, and his massive dick was throbbing so hard it looked like it was about to split skin.

“you’re such a loud-mouthed brat,” he hissed as he pinned your wrists above your head. “think you can handle this? think you’re big enough for me, guest_01?”

he didn’t wait for an answer and just positioned the broad head of his cock against your dripping entrance. you immediately felt the tip of him, thick and blunt, pushing against your folds, and as he began to drive forward, you let out a sharp, strangled “ah! ah! fuck, naoya!”

your pussy was being stretched to its absolute limit. 

you could feel the walls of your vagina being forced apart, the skin of your entrance pulled taut while your hole adjusted around the size of him. 

it felt like you were being filled to the brim, every nerve ending in your slit screaming as he buried himself deep inside you in one long, relentless shove.

“uhm—! god, you’re... you’re fucking huge,” you gasped, your head tossing back against the pillows. “you’re trying to... ah! break me, aren’t you? you pathetic... arrogant... prick!”

“shut your mouth!” naoya snapped, though his own breath was hitching in his throat. 

he started to move, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in.

“you’re so tight... fuck! it’s like you were made to be stretched out by me. admit it, you fucking love being filled like this.”

he wasn’t just hitting you; he was hitting everything. 

because of his size and the angle he was driving at, his dick’s head was hooking right against your g-spot with every single thrust.

“ah! yes! right there! oh god, fuck!” you cried out, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist to pull him even deeper. “you’re hitting it... ah! ah! don’t stop, you bastard! keep going!”

“i’ll stop when i say so!” he barked, his eyes narrowed with a mix of lust and pride as he watched your face contort in pleasure. 

he was hammering into you frantically, just freely letting his massive dick slide through your entrance, creating the sound of loud and vulgar squelch from your wetness. “look at you... moaning like a slut. who’s the winner now, guest_01? who’s owning who?”

“uhm—! you’re still a bitch, naoya!” you choked out, even as your pussy clenched violently around him, milked by the sheer size of his shaft. “you’re just a... ah! ah! a big-dicked bitch! fuck! right there! ah!”

the insults were getting drowned out by the sound of skin slapping skin and the frantic moans escaping your lips. 

naoya was losing his cool too as he felt your internal muscles squeezing him, begging for more. 

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth as he delivered deep, punishing stabs that made your vision go blurry.

“i’m gonna... fuck... i’m gonna cum so deep inside you,” he groaned, his voice breaking. “you’re gonna be full of me all through the expo tomorrow. everyone’s gonna see you and know... ah! fuck! know exactly what i did to you!”

“do it then!” you screamed, your nails digging into his back, drawing blood as your own climax began to build again, triggered by the relentless pounding against your g-spot. “fill me up, naoya! ah! ah! yes! fuck! now!”

naoya wasn’t satisfied with just hearing you scream from underneath him. 

as soon as you peaked, your walls twitching and milking him with desperate, wet clenches, he let out a jagged growl. 

he didn’t pull out; instead, he grabbed your waist with bruising force and hauled you upward, flipping you onto your hands and knees in one motion.

your pussy felt wide and raw, still throbbing from the stretch, but he didn’t give you a second to adjust. 

he reached forward, his fingers fisting into your hair and yanking your head back so your spine arched, pushing your ass high into the air.

“you think you’ve had enough?” he hissed into your ear. “i told you i was going to ruin you. we’re just getting started.”

he lined his massive cock up with your opening and slammed with a single, violent thrust.

“ah! fuck! naoya!” you shrieked, your chest hitting the mattress as the sheer force of the impact rattled your entire frame. 

taking him from behind felt completely different. he was hitting even deeper in this position, maybe until your stomach now, you don;t fucking know. all you know was he’s fucking tipping your pussy apart with his thick shaft sliding through the pool of your combined juices with loud squelch.

“uhm—! god, it’s too... it’s too deep!” you gasped, your fingers clawing at the bedsheets as he started to drill deeper into you. 

he was relentless, his hips snapping forward arrogantly and every time he bottomed out, his balls slapped against you.

naoya was a maniac. 

he kept a firm grip on your hair, using it to control the angle as he hammered away at your g-spot. “look at this mess you made,” he mocked as he watched his thick, veiny dick disappear inside you and pull out covered in your cum from earlier. “you’re so fucking wet. you’re begging for it, aren’t you? ah! fuck, you're so tight, i can barely—ah!”

“shut up and... ah! ah! just keep hitting it!” you cried out, your head tossing. “you talk too much... uhm! yes! right there! fuck, naoya, harder! slam into me like you mean it, you prick!”

“you want it harder?!” he barked, his ego flaring at the challenge. 

but he still increased the pace, his thrusts becoming short stabs that sent sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your brain. “i’ll give it to you... ah! i’ll give you exactly what you deserve! hm fuck yeah..”

you were losing your mind from the sensation of his massive cock filling you completely, combined with the sharp pull on your hair and the vulgar sound of your bodies colliding.

your pussy was screaming, clenching around him so hard which made naoya grunt and bite his lower lip because it felt so fucking good. 

he shifted, grabbing your hips with his sweat-slicked hands and dragged you upward until you were straddling him. 

he leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving, and his still hardening dick guiding you until you lowered yourself down, sliding down onto his full length in one slow, agonizingly deep plunge.

“ah! ah! fuck, naoya!” you gasped, your nails digging into the mattress as he filled you completely. 

being on top lets you control the friction with how you ground your hips down.

naoya didn’t stay still, he was too hungry to be. his hands flew up to your chest, and made his mouth latch onto your breast. 

he wasn’t just kissing; he was sucking, teeth grazing your nipple while he fisted his hands into your hair, yanking you down so you had no choice but to stay close to his face.

“fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice vibrating through your chest as he sucked harder. “you’re so fucking wet, you’re drowning me. ah! look at you riding me like a pro.”

“you’re... ah! ah! still a prick!” you cried out, your own hands gripping his messy hair as you started to grind against him. the feeling was electric, every slide of his dick against your internal walls were sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“you’re still so tight, you’re killing me!” he barked while his eyes rolled back, all while he sucked your other breast, pulling until you let out a high-pitched “ah! ah! ah!”, feeling the sensation of his mouth on your tits while your pussy clenched around his massive cock.

you started to bounce, faster and harder, making your breasts jiggle with every movement. 

his hands never left your hair because he was using it to keep you locked in place. “i’m not... ah! i’m not slowing down for you! fuck, naoya, you’re so big... ah! it feels like you’re splitting me in two!”

“yeah? let me fucking split you then!” his hips were bucking upward to meet your downward thrusts. 

he was hammering into you, and every time you slammed down, he’d suck harder on your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin until you were sobbing with pleasure.

“oh god... yes! fuck! ah! ah! ah!” you were lost, your body is now moving on instinct as your pussy milk him, feeling his dick swell even more inside your aching, stretched-out folds. 

he was staring up at you, his eyes dark, his lips swollen and red from your own teeth earlier, looking at you with a mix of pure, unadulterated possessiveness. 

“ride me until you can’t walk,” he ordered, sounding more drunk while his grip in your hair is tightening until it almost hurt. “i want you to remember this feeling every time you look at me on stream. you belong to me.”

“i’m ... ah! fuck! ah! ah!” you screamed, your hips moving in a wild, uncontrolled manner until the pressure finally became too much, and you both shattered into an earth-shattering climax together.

you were bouncing wildly on top of him, your nails shredded through his scalp, and he responded by arching his back and driving his hips upward. 

you felt his balls slap against your pussy with every frantic lunge, and when he finally exploded inside you, it was too much that it started to drip out. 

you clutched his shoulders while your legs were shaking uncontrollably. you spasmed around him, milking every last drop of his cum. then you collapsed against his chest, both of you gasping for air.

the next morning, you woke up so fucking sore. 

you groaned, trying to roll over, but your entire body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder. 

your pussy was swollen and throbbing, and your hips ached with a deep, bruised soreness that made every movement sting.

you crawled out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to brush your teeth. 

you gripped the sink to steady yourself, your eyes half-closed as you stared at your reflection. 

your neck was covered in hickeys and your hair was a tangled disaster. 

you assumed he was still dead to the world in the king bed, out like a light after the absolute marathon he’d forced you through.

you had just started scrubbing your teeth when the bathroom door creaked open. 

you didn’t even have time to turn around before you felt a heavy weight press against your back. 

naoya was still stark naked with his hair still messy from sleep, and before you could even say out a “good morning”, he grabbed your hips with both hands and jerked you backward so your ass was pressed firmly against his hard, morning stiff cock.

“think you’re getting away that easily?” he rasped against your ear.

you didn’t even get to pull the toothbrush out of your mouth before he slammed his hips forward without warning, no lube, no foreplay, just the sudden, heavy pressure of him sliding into your tight, already-sore slit.

“ah! f-fuck—!” you choked out, the toothbrush clattering into the sink as you doubled over, your hands bracing against the counter. 

his dick was massive, filling you up instantly, stretching you out until you felt like you might snap.

“you’re mine,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he started to drive into you right there in the bathroom. “i’m not done with you yet.”

sure enough after an hour of him absolutely wrecking you against the bathroom vanity, you were left in a state of complete ruin. 

your legs were shaking, your pussy felt like it had been through a car wash, and every muscle in your back were screaming in protest as you tried to even stand straight.

naoya, meanwhile, was glowing with a satisfied energy that made you want to claw his eyes out, if you had the strength.

when you finally left the hotel, the transition to the expo was pathetic. 

naoya didn’t bother with a cab or a shuttle. 

he literally walked through the lobby with his arm hooked firmly around your waist, his grip so possessive and tight that you couldn’t have pulled away if you tried. 

he was practically carrying half your weight, leaning down every few seconds to whisper something lewd into your ear, making sure you felt every ounce of his arrogance.

“look at you,” he hissed, his thumb digging into your hipbone. “you’re so sore you can barely stand. you’re just my favorite little toy, and everyone here is going to know it just by looking at the way you’re struggling to keep up with me.”

you tried to snap back, but all that came out was a breathless, “fuck... off, naoya.”

when the two of you walked into the player lounge, the room went dead silent. 

naoya didn’t give a shit. instead, he steered you straight to your booth, which, true to the organizers’ plan was right next to his. 

he didn’t let you walk to your chair; he literally guided you, his hand sliding down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze before he shoved you into your seat.

he leaned over the small partition between your booths, his face inches from yours, looking like a king who had just conquered a new territory. “stay right there,” he commanded. “don’t talk to anyone. i’m watching you.”

you slumped into your chair, the soreness in your hips making you wince as you sat down, and you saw his eyes track the movement with a sick, satisfied smirk. 

he knew exactly why you were hurting and he knew exactly what he’d done to you in that bathroom.

as he turned to his own setup, you saw him glance at his chat, which was already scrolling past, thousands of people realizing exactly why you were walking so slowly and why naoya looked like he was vibrating. 

“yeah, she’s staying here,” he said, shooting you a sharp, hooded look. “she’s a bit tired today. i gave her a hell of a morning workout.”