#dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[starmapz]

deprived - r. sukuna

❦ biker!ryomen sukuna x biker!f!reader [non-curse au]

❦ smut oneshot

❝ when you get home after work grumpier than sukuna usually is, he knows something's wrong. when you deprive him of a kiss once you've returned, well now he's just pissed. for that, he'll deprive you of all of your senses as he pampers you with his mouth and fingers. ❞

❦ cw ; 18+ only. mdni. contains explicit sexual content. husband!sukuna. dom!sukuna. sub!reader. sensory deprivation. ball gag. blindfold. music. manhandling. nipple play (f! receiving). neck kissing. marking. biting. licking. bondage. fingering. oral (f!receiving). spit. use of pet names (brat, baby, sweetheart, wife, girl). praise. praising degradation. taunting. edging. pussy slapping. toys (bullet vibe). teasing. aftercare. kinda soft!sukuna during aftercare :]. part of the love & company series of oneshots but can be read separately/out of order.

❦ words ; 5.2k.

previous l&c oneshot || love & company masterlist || main masterlist

Biker!Sukuna leans his head on the back of the couch, windswept pink hair hanging over the fabric as you sigh the moment you shut the door of your shared home behind you. He twists, a bulky bicep resting on the back of the couch to see you better. “Long day?”

“Long fucking day,” you agree, sighing once more.

“Work?”

You nod, pulling your laptop from your bag and setting it on the counter, only to open it back up and resume working. Your husband’s eyes narrow as he watches you stand at the kitchen counter in your work attire without so much as a welcome home kiss.

Like really, what the hell? You didn’t even kiss him?

With his extremely usual scowl, he pushes up from the couch, discarding the hoodie he was wearing (because there’s no world where you can resist Sukuna’s cocky charm and veiny forearms, right?) and follows you to the kitchen. He slides his body up to you, his hands finding a place along your waist as he presses his body against your back.

“I need to work, Ryomen,” you mutter tiredly, pulling away.

Stunned and downright offended at this point that you’ve just used his government name, denied him of his ‘honey, I’m home’ kiss, and shrugged him off like a discarded shawl, his lip curls in confusion. 

“You should quit.”

Your head finally whips around, and he swears his own scowl is mirrored on your face. “I can’t just quit. We have bills, Ryomen.”

“Stop fuckin’ calling me that-”

“Your name?” You query incredulously, giving him just an ounce more of your attention.

“My full name,” he corrects you, crossing his arms over his chest, and that’s when you notice it. Your big beefy husband is pouting.

Oh you do not have time for this. Shaking your head, you turn back to your laptop, still standing at the counter in your work clothes.

“C’mon. At least change into something comfy,” he prods, knowing you’re just at wit’s end with the day, and not with him specifically. He may be offended by your dismissal of his affections, but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Probably.

He does pause to think about it, though.

No, no. He’s good.

“I will later,” you wave him off again, leaving him further perturbed as he makes a show out of huffing and trudging back to the living room to resume what he was watching.

As over an hour goes by and you haven’t even moved from standing at the counter, he gets fed up, shutting the TV off and practically stomping back into the kitchen. He stands on the cusp of entering the room, arms crossed over his chest.

“You done yet? I need to make dinner, you’re in the damn way.”

That’s not the issue, he’s deflecting and he knows it, but Sukuna’s not about to admit that he wants your attention.

And his kiss.

“Not yet, give me another hour.”

“No. You got home fuckin’ forever ago. Go get changed, lemme make dinner.”

Sighing, you rub at your neck, sore from craning it to look down at your work. “Please, sweetheart. Give me a bit.”

Sukuna’s nose scrunches up in disdain. You only call him that when you’re attempting to sweet talk him in order to get your way when he’s uncooperative. And damn it, he’s a lovesick fool and it works. Every time.

You want to play dirty? He can play dirty.

With a huff, he takes a few steps towards you and physically shuts your laptop.

“Hey-!”

“Nuh uh. No more,” he frowns, looking you dead in the eye with that signature scowl, his hand firmly resting on your computer.

“You don’t understand, I have deadlines, I need-”

“You need to recharge,” he insists, his tone dropping to a hint of a growl. “I’m not arguin’ with you on this, sweetheart,” he mocks, flipping his hand to grab your wrist so that he can slide your hand into his much larger one. His skin is calloused and rough against yours, but the softness with which the grumpy and hardened man handles you never fails to make your heart race.

You want to give in and curl up on the couch and watch a reality show that he pretends to hate, but you have a presentation due early tomorrow morning and- “Please, Ryo. I just need one more hour, I promise.”

His scowl deepens and you fear the lines etched into his forehead might be permanent with the frustration he’s regarding you with. He grumbles your name, setting his free hand on your hip. He squeezes, making sure his intent comes across. “Go change into something comfy. I know you’re tired, don’t make this harder on yourself. Or are you askin’ to be tied up?”

With his breath fanning your face, he doesn’t miss the subtle way your pupils grow, your eyes darkening.

He snorts, squeezing your hip tighter. “If that’s whatcha want, then try me,” he taunts, pleased to have finally caught your attention. He knew from the moment you entered the door that you were overwhelmed and he equally knows that the easiest way to get his pretty wife to finally relax after the day he’s sure you’ve had is to take away your senses and allow you to focus only on him, only on pleasure, and only on yourself.

You contemplate his words, eyes sliding towards your laptop, then back to his lips. Your presentation is important, but you could just get up a bit early, right? Maybe you need a fresh perspective anyway, and you’re so wound up from the overwhelming day at work that giving in to Sukuna doesn’t sound so bad.

In fact, it sounds almost heavenly.

He watches carefully as you pull your arm out of his grasp, a bratty little smirk on your lips as you aim to open your laptop. He clicks his tongue before you even get the opportunity to touch the computer, barreling into your legs and flipping you over his shoulders with a triumphant grin.

“Good choice,” he hums in a gravelly tone as you squeal in surprise and cling to his shirt. “Even if you’re bein’ a brat.”

“Wait, my shirt, you’re gonna wrinkle it-”

“Enough about work,” he huffs, tossing you on your bed and pinning both of your arms over your head in one hand. “Enough. I don’t wanna hear about the damn presentation. You can finish later.”

“But-”

He growls your name in warning. “Don’t be a brat. Lemme take care of you.”

Your chest rises as you suck in a breath, nodding. He can see in the way that you hold your shoulders and the crease between your brows that you’re still stuck in your head and if that’s the case, he’ll give you something else to focus on. Pamper you in his own ‘Sukuna’ sort of way.

“That’s my pretty little wife.” He holds his hand out to you, searching for your consent. “You gonna let me take care of you?”

Again, you nod, taking his hand as you squeeze your thighs together. Heat pools in your core and you shuffle your hips, chasing the friction.

“Good,” he grins, rubbing his hand over your knuckles before disappearing altogether to open a drawer you know all-too-well. Your eyes darken a shade again as you watch him pull out a familiar set of ropes, as well as a new matching blindfold and ball gag you have yet to see. Your eyes widen, lips pursing as you take in the sight, shuffling on the edge of the bed.

“Is that new?” You ask, reaching out to slide your hands along the silk blindfold that matches Sukuna’s Ducati bike, a bright cherry red.

“Mhm,” he hums, a concentrated look on his face as he ties a slip knot into the shibari ropes you let him use on you every so often. “Wrists,” he commands, holding the knot out expectantly at you.

You make no attempt at arguing with him, slipping your wrists into the silk rope and allowing the cool material to bind your hands in front of you. The thrill causes your heart to race as you give in to your husband, allowing him to take full control. You shuffle once more, seeking any amount of friction on your already-throbbing clit.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, pressing his hands down on your thighs and spreading them just enough to keep you from seeking the friction you want so badly. “Be good,” he growls, leaving one hand on your thigh as your legs hang over the edge of the bed. “I’m only askin’ nicely this once.”

Your tongue swipes your lower lip before tugging it between your teeth, nodding slowly when the door suddenly creaks open. Sukuna pays it little mind until the newest furry addition to your family is softly headbutting his ankle and yelling.

“Not now, Cati,” he grumbles as though the young cat can understand him. When the little creature doesn’t let up and yells at her father for attention, Sukuna just sighs and picks her up, holding her out in front of him. “I’m tryna set a mood. You don’t make the mood better,” he explains. Her ear flicks and she wiggles her back legs, twisting her body in an effort to escape Sukuna’s grasp. “We can cuddle later,” he explains as he shuts the door with her outside it and heads to the ensuite to wash his hands.

“Brats, both o’ my girls,” he mutters to himself, turning to see you fiddling with the hem of your pencil skirt. He returns to the space beside you, picking up the blindfold and tying it expertly behind your head. He then takes the ball gag, using one hand to grab your chin as the other hovers the device over your lips. “If anything feels bad,” he says in all sincerity, staring straight through you to your soul as he even temporarily folds up the blindfold to get your full attention, “you use your foot to tap me twice, yeah?”

You nod.

“Words.”

“Yes, baby.”

“Good girl,” he approves before buckling the leather of the gag in place and replacing the blindfold. Testing your senses, or lack thereof, you twist your wrists against the rope, tilting your head in an effort to find your husband, only to whimper at the realization that you’re giving all of your trust to him right now and it’s hot.

You wait at the edge of the bed, twisting your head in search of any sign of him, but you’re unable to find him. It’s only when he turns on what might be the most generic ‘sex music’ you’ve ever heard that you get an idea of where he is. You want to tease him for his playlist choice, fight against the ball gag, maybe be the brat he keeps saying you are, but before you can, you’re yelping in surprise as your arms are carefully tied to the top of the bed, your body dragged with them.

You struggle to swallow, adjusting your lips around the gag as you aim to search for him again, but with all of your senses aside from smell completely deprived, you can only whimper.

A large hand presses against your collarbone, pushing you into the bed and allowing you to relax into the mattress and pillows. Your husband’s weight makes the bed dip as he crawls over you, testing the hold the shibari bamboo ropes have on your wrists. Satisfied with his setup, he sweetly kisses your cheek once, before shocking you as he massages your shoulders.

“Relax,” he purrs into your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine. Beneath the blindfold, your eyes flutter shut as you turn to putty in his hands with the way his digits work the knots from your muscles. This isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but you’re pleased nonetheless. He slides his hand down the front of your chest, unbuttoning the front of your white blouse and pushing it over your shoulders to give him better access.

You sigh, melting as he straddles you in order to rub the knots from your muscles. It only takes a mere couple of minutes before you’re blissfully relaxed, eyes heavy with the exhaustion of the day as your husband takes care of you. So comfortable, you barely even notice that he unbuttons the rest of your top. He searches for the zipper on your skirt, unzipping it and slipping them down your legs.

He smirks at the sight of you in a pretty pair of black lingerie that he got you on your first wedding anniversary. Always spoiling him, even if you don’t mean to. His cock twitches in the tent of his pants, but he sets his own needs aside in favor of servicing you.

Placing himself over top of you again, he kisses down the expanse of your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collar. He grins as you sigh in pleasure, relieved that you’re finally letting go of the shitty day.

His lips travel the length of your neck down to your collar, sucking and leaving his mark just below where the neckline of your shirt falls. Any higher and he knows you would scold him for forcing you to use makeup to cover it at work, but he toes the line anyway, sucking just a bit higher. Pleased with the marks that make up your skin and the way you’re squirming beneath him, he moves lower, palming your left breast over your bra.

His other hand slides around your back, unhooking the lingerie and letting your breasts free with a small jiggle that has him eagerly grinning.

“Mmph,” you attempt to ask him not to rip or ruin your favorite bra, but the gag does you no favors.

Moving your bra up to rest on your upper chest, Sukuna runs the flat of his tongue over your bare nipple, thrilled when you jolt hard at the suddenness of the metal of his piercing grazing your nipple. “Yeah, baby?”

Your muffled words make no sense as you attempt again to worry about something, and Sukuna’s not having it.

“Stop thinkin’. No sight, no sound, no taste, just feel me. Be a good lil’ slut for me, yeah?”

It’s hard not to listen to him when he talks in that low purr you adore so much, his hands roaming your body as he sucks your nipple between his lips. He flicks and pinches the other bud between his forefinger and thumb, allowing his teeth to graze the sensitive skin between his lips when he grins.

Every reaction is tenfold with how heightened your sense of touch feels right now, every movement by Sukuna increasing in pleasure immensely when it’s all you can focus on as everything fades away. Your head lolls back as he swirls his tongue around your perky nipple, breath coming in fast pants when he switches his attention to the other side. He nips at the perky skin, satisfaction coursing through him when you jerk and jolt, your wrists tugging on the bamboo ropes.

With a final soft kiss, his lips move down to your waist and hips, kissing every inch of your body as he quietly worships you. This may be about you, but Sukuna takes great pleasure in seeing you melt and quiver under his gentle and saccharine touch. After all, he’s not a particularly soft man, so he knows it turns you to putty when he shows another side to him.

He spreads your legs, one hand on each thigh, positioning himself between them so that you can’t close them. Leaning down, he watches the way you fiddle against your restraints, unable to stay still under his attention. He chuckles lowly, though you can barely hear it over the music, when your entire body jerks as he licks a stripe up your damp panties.

“So wet,” he groans, both of his hands roaming up your thighs to your hips and waist, before he brings them back down and pulls your panties with them, discarding them from your ankles. “So fuckin’ wet,” he repeats with a view of your bare pussy.

Unable to see him, your breathing quickens as you eagerly await the feeling of his tongue on your clit, but he only teases you as he runs his fingers through your soaking wet folds. You let out a muffled whine, jerking your hips up to meet his fingers as you chase the friction he won’t bestow upon his poor needy wife, too occupied with teasing you.

His fingers pause as you wriggle in his grip. “Ah-” he clicks his tongue, lightly slapping your pussy. “Be good for me.”

Your body jerks as you shuffle away from him, whimpering at the unexpected sensation and attempting to close your legs. Your husband pulls you back by your thighs, keeping you spread as his weight shifts, before he’s finally where you want him. He tests the waters, pleased when you tense with the small kitten lick he gives your clit. You can feel his grin against your skin when he buries his tongue in your needy cunt.

Your back arches for him and you tug against the ropes when his tongue plunges into the depths of your pussy, the metal of the ball piercing in his tongue amplifying the sensations of pleasure. He moves slowly, enjoying the taste of your slick and the way your body jolts, tenses, and twitches as his tongue explores your body.

He hums in approval when you whimper and whine, accentuated with gasps as it’s all you can manage behind the gag. You can feel drool slipping down your chin, unable to care as Sukuna has you so thoroughly bound, unable to care about anything but him.

You just barely hear him mutter “all mine”, before his tongue moves up to swirl around your clit. Your jaw clenches against the red ball gag as he sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, intense pleasure coursing through your body.

God, you needed this. You just didn’t know how badly, but the muscles in your stomach are already clenching as you feel the wave of your orgasm nearing its shore, only for Sukuna to pull back. You whine in protest, tugging hard against your binding as you yearn to pull him back down by his hair. You whimper again when you aren’t able to, lifting your lead in an effort to see him, but it’s all in vain. There’s nothing but darkness, no sounds to fill the air but yours and his, no taste but the blandness of the gag, and no smell but him to fill your nostrils.

It’s so overwhelming in all the right ways, unable to think of anything but his touch as you seek him out in whatever way you can. Work is a problem of the past as you clench your thighs.

“Thought I told ya to be good,” he hums, though his only punishment seems to be more serviceable to you, and you certainly won’t complain about that as he plunges his middle and ring finger suddenly into your soaking hole. He hums in approval as you gasp and clench your fists, nails digging into your palms with the sudden wave of pleasure that ripples through you.

He pulls them out slowly, pushing the digits back in to the hilt as you feel the cool metal of his wedding ring sink between your folds. You whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head, attempting to whimper a “please”, but it barely comes out as anything more than “pfff”.

“I know, princess,” he hums, kissing your rib below the swell of your left breast. “Feels good, yeah?”

You manage a nod, crying out when he curls his fingers forward, your stomach clenching each time he expertly hits your G-spot. It sends you into a flurry, legs closing in around him as you chase that same wave from earlier, every muscle tensing as you swear you’re right there, only for him to pull his fingers from you.

Another whine, another tug of the ropes as you’re left hanging right on the edge of your orgasm. Again. Your stomach relaxes as the feeling passes and your chest heaves. You clench your teeth down on the ball again, growing frustrated and needy as hell. Sukuna can see it in the way your brow knits, a crease forming just above the blindfold.

You hear him chuckle again. “Somethin’ got you riled up, sweetheart?” His hand slides from your breast around your body until he’s arching your back closer to him. “Easy to forget all the bullshit when all you can focus on is me, huh?” You can hear the grin in his voice as the flat of his tongue licks a stripe up your right nipple, making your head hang back in sheer pleasure.

Your pussy pulses around nothing, desperate for attention and release. As you buck your hips up towards your husband, he presses you into the mattress with a strong hand.

“Needy girl,” he chuckles, sliding his opposite hand from your sternum to your chin. He runs his thumb along your lips, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth as you whine and whimper around the ball gag.

Every sense is completely occupied only by Sukuna, his touch electrifying. A shiver runs up your spine as you just barely hear the scraping of your bedside drawer open once more. The mattress shifts under his weight, before he’s leaning over you again.

His lips brush your ear for a moment, the deep rumble of his voice only making you more wet for him. “You’ll cum when I tell you, got it?”

Whining around the gag, you nod.

With a satisfied hum, the bed shifts beneath you as Sukuna positions himself between your legs again, able to feel his strong thighs seated between your own. He leans down, pressing a startlingly gentle kiss to your stomach that throws you off-kilter, only to meanly bully his middle and ring finger back into your pussy.

Your hands curl into fists as you cry out, desperate to cling to anything as you attempt to close your thighs on your husband, who keeps you spread with his free hand, while your other leg presses against his torso. Sukuna doesn’t let up his pace, hitting the gummy part of your walls with ease and sending bliss straight to your core like lightning.

His name comes out muffled as you attempt to whine for him, bucking your hips up as a knot ties in the pit of your stomach, threatening to come undone at any moment. The second your abdomen begins tensing, Sukuna’s pace slows to an agonizing halt.

“Ah- what’d I say?”

You whine, but he’s not having any of it.

“What did I say?” He repeats lowly.

It surely makes no sense with the ball still between your lips, but you repeat back to him that you’re only allowed to cum when he says. He hums in approval, one large hand leaving your thigh to caress your cheek as he tries to- literally- fuck you dumb, until you forget about your presentation altogether.

And it’s working. Well. 

Your head hangs back against the pillows, your chest heaving as you shuffle against your bindings, whining when he doesn’t pick up the pace at all, even as you obey his commands. The slow in and out of his fingers is just enough to keep you squirming and whining, but equally not enough to satiate your desire.

It’s muffled, but you just barely manage a “please,” much to Sukuna’s pleasure.

“Yeah, princess? You willin’ to beg?” He hums. The bed shifts again, and you jolt when cold steel is pressed to your clit. Gasping at the sudden chill, your body gradually relaxes as the toy is held still for a moment, only to be turned on a second later, the vibration sending a tingling sensation through your body to your limbs.

Your hips jerk and twitch with the subtle movements of the metallic toy, the continued stimulation to your clit and his fingers still slowly curling sending you closer to the edge and closer to overstimulation. You whine out, your stomach tightening as the knot is just about to unravel when he pulls away altogether.

You whine louder, pleading with him behind the gag though it all comes out as little more than mmphs.

Your legs are trembling, your walls pulsing around nothing as Sukuna teasingly flicks your nipple, pulling a cry from your pretty lips. “What’s that, princess?” He chides, tugging on the leather strap of the ball gag and pulling it back just enough to hear your whiny request.

“Please let me cum, Ryo, plea- mmph-!” Your chest heaves again as you pull on your restraints. Your movements are growing wearier the more fucked out you get, and Sukuna figures he might just have some mercy on you.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purrs, and before you have time to process that he’s there, his tongue is on your clit, sucking hard and sending sparks straight to the knot in your abdomen. It tightens as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his teeth grazing it and causing you to jump. He keeps you right on the edge until tears of overstimulation are wetting the blindfold and you’re trembling around his fingers.

“Cum for me, baby,” he commands, latching his lips back onto your clit.

The final push across the finish line are his fingers effortlessly pinpointing your G-spot and sending you straight over the edge in an orgasm that rocks your body. Your husband slows his movements, pulling wave after wave of your climax through you and watching every subtle twitch and jerk of your body as he coaxes you into a completely blissed out state.

Your head hangs back against the pillows as he slowly pulls his mouth and fingers from your core, slipping the soaked digits between his lips. He pulls them out with a sinful pop! and a smirk that betrays his satisfaction, despite the rock-hard and throbbing issue between his own thighs.

His weight disappears for a moment as the volume of the music softens to something low and comfortable, before he’s carefully untying your wrists. No longer bound, he brings them down to your lap before focusing on the gag and blindfold. As he slips them both off and sets them aside, you blink as your eyes adjust to the low lighting of your bedroom.

“How’re you feelin’?” He grunts, gently taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your head in either direction as he searches your skin for any signs that anything might have been too tight.

Yawning, you nod. “I’m good. I needed that, thanks Kuna.”

“Mmm. I could tell,” he smirks, satisfied that the gag and blindfold he bought are to his liking. He checks your wrists over and nods to himself before focusing in on you. “Relax for the night, yeah?”

You nod again. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I was a little snappy earlier.”

He kisses the crown of your hair in acknowledgement before making his way to the ensuite washroom. You watch as he leans over to fill the tub for you, a subtle smile making its way to your lips.

As he returns to your side, you eye the twitching tent in his pants, your gaze sliding up to meet his. “Turn off the bath,” you murmur sweetly, a feline look in your eyes that Sukuna shuts down with a scoff.

A goddamn scoff while he’s looking like that. Bewildered, you stare at him from your place on the bed.

“I got a hand, I’ll take care of myself. Now lemme take care of you,” he gruffs, slipping the sleeves of your blouse off your arms and pulling the straps of your bra along with it. He hoists you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you bridal-style to the bath and setting you on the edge to check the temperature before lowering you into it.

The water warms your skin and you feel your muscles loosen even more, but you still pout up at him. “Are you sure? You could join me, maybe-”

He says your name chidingly. “You’ve had a long day. Relax.”

Letting out a breath, you just smile at your husband. For as rough around the edges as he is, and for how frustrating and stubborn he can be, he’s a sweetheart when it comes to what matters. Pushing up on the edge of the tub, you place a sweet kiss on his cheek. “I love you,” you murmur.

You don’t expect him to reply, he rarely does. He’s a man of action, not of words, so his next movements don’t shock you.

He hums, heading to the cabinet below the sink. “Y’got any of those bath bomb things?” He asks, in his own little ‘I love you’ sort of action.

“Um, probably. Towards the back in a little bag, maybe?”

He rustles through the cabinet for a moment before pulling out a brown stone with a questioning raise of his brow as he presents it to you.

“That’s a pumice stone.”

“So… no?”

Stifling your giggle, you shake your head. “Definitely not.”

“Don’t say ‘definitely’,” he gripes sarcastically. “I don’t know any of this shit.”

You don’t hold back your giggle now, only pausing your laughter when he presents a pink bath bomb to you. You nod, though your fit of giggles doesn’t cease.

Returning to your side, your husband flicks your forehead softly in mock disdain, waiting silently by your side for the water to fill before dropping the bath bomb into the water in front of you. It fizzes softly, dyeing the water (and the side of the tub) a soft pink. With shining eyes and a weary but satisfied expression, you grip Sukuna’s wrist before he can leave.

“Thank you.”

“‘Course. Maybe now you won’t forget my kiss when you get home,” he grumbles, grumpy as ever once again.

Your jaw slacks, gaze narrowing. “Hold on. Is that what this was about?”

Sukuna freezes in your grip, regarding you with a deep scowl. “No. Just wanted you out of the kitchen to cook.”

It’s just about the saddest excuse you’ve ever heard, and while you brushed past it earlier while you were busy, it sounds even more pitiful now. “Ryo.”

“What?” He huffs.

“Come here, you big baby.”

He doesn’t move for a split second, still caught in the grasp of your hand on his wrist, but even with the frustrated scowl he’s sporting, he can’t deny you. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He’s doing this for you.

Duh.

He gets down on his knees, letting you pull him in for his hard-earned ‘welcome home’ kiss. It’s soft and sweet, filled with the very same love he’s poured into taking care of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you pull back, your fingers tracing the rough stubble poking through his skin along the tattoos lining his chin. “Better?”

He grunts, side-eyeing the wall as if it’s suddenly interesting. “Love you.”

Your eyes widen for a split second before you break into a grin, pulling him in again. Your lips brush his as you whisper your reply. “I love you, too.”

previous l&c oneshot || love & company masterlist || main masterlist

❦ a/n ; hope you enjoyed the return of my fave freaky couple! needed a break from the angst of my ongoing sukuna series [wyk], but the next chapter is about halfway done <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist to be added or removed. 18+ only, age must be visible on blog.

@toffeebrat @gojodickbig @4acoffee @billiondollarworth @qyuin

@bxnfire @jayghostedu @favvkiki @lily-bisque

writing & format © starmapz. art © too-many-owls. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune.

[kamospeach]

plot: jjk men as sexy biker boys

content warning: freaky deaky choso per usual, standing, exhibitionism, size difference, big ole meanie sukuna, backshots, degradation, praise, famous cocky gojo, second hand embarrassment warning (i cringed), milking, handjob, old soul nanami, praise, missionary, cunnilingus, jealous toji, angry sex, spooning, choking, super slutty geto, gagging, orgasm denial, cum eating

peachy's yap: do y'all like these type of post for my lil ideas that i could see them all in? i was thinking about doing them all as nerds :P

NSFW BELOW

CHOSO .ᐟ

he's defffff the one whose shy and doesn't show his face if you're not with him. he doesn't even like to stop when he's on his bike. girls flocking over asking what kind of bike it is. he would just smile at them and pray they would leave him alone.

but if you were with him???? oh yeah he'd be a fucking show off doing shit he'd never do alone. stopping everywhere so you could get a better look at him in his slutty black compression shirt. going too fast to scare you then console you in a big bad wolf boyfriend typa way.

or when you both go out on a late night ride and he pulls into an eerily empty parking garage. you get scared and ask him 'are you here to kill me'. to which he responds 'if i wanted to kill you i would have done that a long time ago.' but it was worse than death worse than what you could have imagined.

he would fuck you on his bike in PUBLIC. titties hanging out of your shirt bouncing with every rough thrust he gave you. it was embarrassing being fucked out in public where anyone could see. did i mention you're in a parking garage of a mall. there was surely cameras but choso didn't care he just needed to feel you.

your hard nipples pressed against his back the whole ride. he was taking it out on your poor pussy. you knew he loved your titties, you knew he was an tits man and you still came out with no bra. your hands pushed at his midriff that was now showing since the bottom hem of his shirt was inbetween his teeth.

his large veiny hands gripping your waist forgetting about the bike. he picked you up and began to fuck you while he stood. your wet pussy staining his pants but of course he didn't care. and after you came all over his dick you got on your knees like the good slut you were. sucking him off the rest of the way until he painted your face white with his warm milky cum.

SUKUNA .ᐟ

now sukuna? he was the reckless one swerving in and out of cars. he's got into so many accidents your not even sure how he's still alive. it got to the point that you started hiding his keys around the house so he would settle for taking his car. but today he wanted to ride his bike and he was turning the house upside DOWN about them keys.

your closet looked like a tornado went through it, everything was off the hangers and shoes were thrown out. if you didn't know any better you'd think a nic fein was looking for their vape. you were fed up with his obsession to the bike that you confronted him. yelling out his name and stomping down the stairs.

you demanded he tell you why this bike why such a big deal. he rolled his eyes ignoring you as he searched through the kitchen drawers for the keys. you got in his face yelling at him about how dangerous he was. telling him if he maybe didn't hurt himself everytime he rode the bike you wouldn't care.

when sukuna finally did answer it was with a scoff telling you to just give him the keys. then you broke sukuna's only rule for you, which was surprising since he was a stickler for rules. you cussed at him, which you both promised you would never do to each other. you just got angry and yelled 'don't worry about those fucking keys and answer my damn question'.

you were even silent after your outburst it only made sukuna chuckle darkly. he gave you the only punishment he knew would straighten you up. backshots. not just any backshots, merciless, relentless, never ending, sheet gripping backshots. calling you every name in the degradation book as he gripped your wrist behind your back.

fucking his big dick into your needy cunt your pussy squelching as he called you his bitch, slut, whore, and even his fuck toy. he was pissed that you broke his one and only rule. but after you finished and he bred your sweet pussy he held you praising about how well you did. rubbing your sore muscles, the massage almost as orgasmic as the sex you had before. key word: almost.

TOJI .ᐟ

NOW THIS PIECE OF SHIT would say you can't backpack with him. hell no, no way. say he gets hot or your arms around his waist made him feel like a pussy. so he gave you two options either learn how to ride or miss out.

toji FULLY expected you to miss out since you were even too scared to drive your car. but you proved him wrong by telling him you wanted to learn. and he taught you plus your big brother added in some extra lessons teaching you how to be better than toji, specifically. after learning for a year you finally got your license a week before your birthday.

so what did toji do? he bought you a bike, a black one identical to his only different was that yours had subtle girlie decorations. and since you had your own bike you both went out, a lot. but it did not go how toji planned AT ALL.

the men were flocking towards you telling you how attractive it was to see a biker girl. coming over and asking for your number, instagram, snapchat anything they could scrape up. your answer was the same 'nah i have a boyfriend, oh here he comes!'

but as days, weeks, and months went by toji was getting fed up with the men flirting with you. toji didn't want to take it out them he had to seem like a level headed boyfriend. infront of the guys of course, sitting behind you all nonchalant.

but when you got home? he took that anger out on your poor poor pussy. you were laying down expecting to go to sleep until toji got behind you his heavy cock pressed against your ass. whispering in your ear how angry it made him when all the guys lusted over you.

telling you it wasn't your fault and that you were such a good girl for him. you thought to yourself if that was the case why was he fucking you like this. one of your legs lifted and his thick cock stretching you out.

his hips snapped into yours quickly his hands wrapped your throat. he loved the way your moans were broken up by hiccups. the way tears poured out of your eyes from pleasure. he apologized for being a possessive boyfriend all while he fucked you silly.

GETO .ᐟ

he's slutty... but he's not like gojo being cocky and attention seeking. no he's a fucking show off becaus he wants to turn you on. coming out in the TIGHTEST compression shirt he could find. tattoos on full display even the one of your name on his neck.

you'd pout saying you wanted to wear sluttly clothes like him. but he'd be damned if he let you get hurt or scrapped up. so now he had you covered head to toe trying to secure your helmet. you closed his visor messing with him liking when he was mad.

he grabbed your neck squeezing lighting pulling you closer to him. telling you to chill out in his deep sexy voice that turned you on. you both rode around but you were getting bored ready to go home and FUCK. yeah... you could admit you were ready to turn around and go home to get fucked.

playing with him some more you squeezed his man boobies. you did it often so he wasn't surprised but did he like it? no. actually you usually got the same sexy angry tone you got earlier. but this time geto was quiet, not saying anything. he didn't even attempt to move your hands from his pecs.

and silly you, you thought you were off the hook. rubbing his thighs even grazing your acrylic nails over his print. you felt him get hard under your hands. yet again he said nothing nor moving your hands.

off the hook? yeah fucking right, this nigga would have you ass up face down looking into the mirror next to your bed. forcing you to watch yourself get fucked like a toy. you would be screaming loud if you weren't gagged by your panties that geto shoved into your mouth.

and don't even THINK about pushing him or trying to run. your hands were behind your back both of your hands being held by just one of geto's. he had came 2 times and was still making you hold yours.

he didnt want to deny you of an orgasm but you wouldn't apologize. that was all he wanted and he kept telling you that but you didn't care. you weren't sorry, this is what you wanted... well to an extent.

he kept fucking you as tears poured out of your eyes. he kept repeating the same thing 'just apologize and you can cum baby'. he was overstimulated and was ready to stop. but as much as you wanted to cum you wanted geto to tap out first.

unfortunately that wasn't the case, your needy pussy was fluttering around his cock. you were about to cum and you really couldn't hold it this time. so you apologized and as soon as you did he tells you to cum.

your body twitch ass you squirted and soaked the bed. geto pulled out of you telling you to turn around and he came in your mouth as you swallowed all his cum. from that day forward you never purposely aggravated geto AGAIN.

NANAMI .ᐟ

okay here's the gag... he has a harley. yes, a harley. although you both were only in your 20s you had old souls. nanami is def the type to take you to hot august nights an old school car show. you two had been together for years and he'd always had the harley. it was his baby after you of course. okay but hear me out?

you'd get on his harley and take the 20 minute ride to downtown. you'd both sit on his bike watching the cars ride by. eating food and sipping on a lil drank only you though because nanami had to get you both back.

you'd both crack jokes, people watch, and even judge someone else's harley here and there. you were just a old head ass couple doing old head couple shit. until you got a little too tipsy and were ready to go home. he was getting a bit tired too so he agreed to take you home.

and when he did you were on his ass like white on rice practically begging him to please you. although he was tired and was ready for bed he couldn't resist giving you what you wanted. so he ate your dripping wet pussy running his tongue up and down your folds.

he even fingered your pussy while he ate you helping your orgasm come upon you faster. but while doing all this he found himself getting hard. his hips ground against the bed as he indulged in the sweet taste of your cunt.

after he made you cum for the first time he gave in and ended up just fucking you. stuffing you full of him giving you long and slow thrust that surprisingly was enough for you. you both made love that night and you couldn't have asked for anything better.

GOJO .ᐟ

i have no doubt he's the cockiest mf who has a bike. he'd post at least 3 biker thirst traps A DAY to his mainly female fanbase. women fangirling over him in the comments even 50 year old ladies saying if only they were 20 years younger. how'd you get the unlucky pull to be that cocky man's friend with benefits.

backpacking him when he's not making content for his thirsty little fangirls. arms wrapped around his waist as the two of you swerve through traffic. except this time he asked if he could make content with you saying he was getting too much attention.

you called bullshit knowing that gojo was an absolute FEIN for attention. he buttered you up by saying, 'i don't want the attention if it's not from you.’ which you also called bullshit on but he swore up and down it was the truth.

so that's what you were doing today creating content. yes. thirst trap content. your hands splayed over his sickeningly toned abs while he flexed in the camera. you were feeling awkward not really enjoying the performative actions. so you told him that it didn't feel real and explained how you felt.

he offered to cut off the camera and you told him no. it wasn't like you were uncomfortable or anything you liked the idea, it just wasn't authentic. but gojo said he'd cut it off or so you thought. so just like regular the two of you rode around no destination in mind, just having fun.

as the two of you stopped at a light you wrapped your arms around his neck giving him a hug. your hands rub up and down his biceps he smiles under his helmet. he was so happy he had that shit on or the camera would have see the blush he had right now.

he already wanted to be more than friends with you. you guys were always touchy but he never got used to it. you let go of him as the light turned green and at another stop light is when he asked to be more than friends. your jaw was dropped and you were in immense shock.

you didn't say much as gojo took you back to his house. he pulled into the garage cutting the bike off and closing the garage. you both took off your helmets and he looked back at you. he had to double check that you heard him, and you cut him off by kissing him.

somehow someway sometime when you were caught up in his hypnotizing blue eyes. his cock found it's way into your hand and you were milking him dry. his head thrown back on your shoulder as you slowed and fastened your pace. his thighs trembled and his hips bucked into your hand chasing his climax.

when he finally came all on your hand you licked it clean as gojo watched you intently. after everything was all said and done and you went back inside. he ran back to footage realizing he forgot to cut off the camera when you gave him the handjob. he showed you the video and that was how you both ended up deciding to do no face adult videos. (idk that took a turn for me too ngl LMFAO)

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ falling action ] | sylus

— summary: he kissed you. you pretend it didn’t mean anything. sylus tries to show you it meant everything. — cw: reader is not mc, language, sexual tension, self-loathing, mutual pining, jealousy, blood & violence, self-deprecating thoughts, profanity, misunderstandings, romance, self-indulgent, wild caleb sighting, mdni — notes: thank you @subliminalwish for inspiring this part! and thank you all for reading! [ pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 7 ] — now playing: fuel to fire - agnes obel btbt - b.i

Their timing couldn’t be more impeccable—the twins. Your saving grace.

Sylus is a tempest. A storm ravaging the rickety foundation of your boat. He kisses greedy. Commanding, sipping from you like a fountain amid a desert. Swallowing the gruff little keens you make. You burn hot wherever he touches. His hands are like branding irons on your skin, amplified by the thin taffeta of your dress as they smooth up and down the curvature of your waist.

You’re dizzy when he snatches away, a growl in his throat. His lips are kiss-swollen. Burn a pretty red, stained by your lipstick. His eyes smolder like embers through the living room’s haze. Catch in the moonlight, gleaming a potent shade of scarlet. He reminds you of something beastly. Predatory. 

You did this to him?

In contrast, you’re sludge in his hands, swimming, blinking, drunk, and trying to remember how to breathe. For a moment, he appears hesitant. Gaze flits between your eyes and mouth as he holds you by your hips. Rubs reassuring circles into your hip bones with his thumbs. He’s so pretty like this. Inebriated by passion, silken white hair mussed from your greedy fingers. Expensive, pleated shirt all rumpled, bow tie loosened, composure thrown to hell.

But his phone keeps ringing. An obnoxious chime that makes your lips quirk despite the vertigo sweeping over you. It cuts through the wispy film of the night. Cleaves through the nebulous cloud of desire hanging between you, and with a bitten-off sound, he finally tugs his cell free of his pocket. 

He watches you as he brings it to his ear. Cups your cheek, brushing over your bottom lip with the worn pad of his thumb. Tugs it down, entranced by its elasticity. Its fullness. Your fingers clasp around his wrist. You nuzzle into the safety of his palm. Turn your mouth inward, blistering it with a kiss. Affection intermingled with amusement colors your eyes. He’s like a spoiled child, snatched off the playground before he was ready to leave.

“What,” he clips into the mic. 

A hesitant voice peers through the low static. Luke. “Mission accomplished, bossman.” You imagine Kieran peeking over his brother’s shoulder in the background, wariness hidden behind that gaudy bird mask. “All cleaned up over here.”

Sylus sighs something weighted. Shaky. Relieved. His shoulders drop with it, then tense again. The agitation doesn’t leave his face. Something’s on his mind. Something more pressing than a few ornery goons trying to hunt you down. You nip at his fingertips to assuage the divot forming between his brows. The taut pull of his lips. 

He hangs up without another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Draws you close, preparing to kiss you breathless once more. 

But it seems fate is a cruel, mischievous mistress, intervening when she deems it fit.

Because, this time, your phone rings. 

You stiffen. Sylus glowers at your—his—coat pocket. Studies you. He’s conflicted. Looks as if the world is descending into hell around him. Like he wants to take your phone and shatter it on the wall. You offer him a placating smile. Smooth a hand over his cheek before tugging your cell out. It’s only fair you leave him as on edge as he left you. 

He doesn’t let it deter him, pulling you impossibly closer. Peppers your neck with kisses, drawing a soft huff of laughter from your chest. Your head falls back, and he cradles it with his fingers, baring your throat to him. Groans something appreciative, writing the most beautiful compliments of all against your skin with his lips. 

You’re not thinking when you answer, too swept up in the moment. Dizzy from the needy drag of his lips over your carotid. Don’t think until a familiar lilt touches your ear, and a cold thrill shoots down your spine.

Little. Ms. Hunter. 

Fuck. 

Reality trickles in like the slow creep of a rainstorm, mooring you to the spot. You shove against Sylus’ chest. He ingests you with pinched brows, heavy lids, an open mouth. ‘What’s wrong?’ his expression reads. He’s desperate. Needy. Like you’re his lifeline, an IV drip.

You push against him again, chest so very hard and so wonderfully defined against the heel of your palm. You need space. You can’t breathe, but for an entirely different reason now. 

His hands reluctantly drop from your waist, falling listlessly at his sides. He turns away, rubbing the scruff of his neck with a sigh.

“What’s up?” you bite. Try to mask the waver of your voice, your quivering tendons. 

“Hey, how ya doin’?” She’s infuriatingly chipper. Happy for someone halfway across the world, as if she knows you’re up to no good. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. You’re caught between wanting to laugh and cry. Damn the universe for spoiling your fun. “What do you need?”

The hunter’s hesitant for a beat. You envision her shifting her weight between her feet. Fiddling with her nails, her gaze cast to the floor. It’s not often you’re terse with her, at least not these days. You worked through those kinks of your relationship months back. But forgive you for being a little impatient. A little snippy when you finally satiated the ache between your teeth. 

“Sooo, I’m back earlier than expected. My ride cancelled on me. Would you mind picking me up from the airport? I’ll pay you back! Promise!” 

“You can’t catch a cab?” You push back your hair. Peer over your shoulder, hand cupped around the mic as if you’re whispering a secret. Sylus is behind you a little ways off, hand on hip; silhouette suffused in amber as he examines some picture frames on the sofa table, pretending not to eavesdrop.  

“Yeah, but it’s late! I don’t wanna get kidnapped, ya know?”

You suppress a frustrated sound, disbelieving. Not just of her, but the timing of everything. The reminder of what you’ve done and what you still want to do. One day, you’ll learn not to answer your phone. And one day, you’ll learn to tell your conscience to fuck right the hell off.

“Fine. Yeah, sure. Just…gimme a minute.”

“You’re the best! I don’t care what the twins say about you!” 

The call ends, and you sigh, leaning into your palm, propped against the frost-bitten windowpane. It grounds you in a way, its crispness a welcome contrast to your fevered skin. 

You jolt when Sylus emerges behind you in the form of artful hands melding to your waist. In the form of warm breath kissing the sensitive space behind your ear. His lips graze the shell of it. You snatch away as if scorched by fire, turning, spine acquainting itself with the window. Space. You need space. 

He gives you no time to breathe, spilling over you like liquid fire. Cages you in with his arms. Angles closer, swaddling you in the dangerous warmth of his body. Bathes you in the bewitching scent he carries, in the lazy, lust-laden stir of his eyes. You shirk away from his touch when his fingertips graze your cheek. He bristles.

Your heart pinches at the wounded look on his face. At how his fingers twitch before curling into a loose fist and falling back to his side. You duck away from him, a nervous smile dragging itself across your face. 

“She’s back,” you state plainly. It tastes bitter, acknowledging it aloud. Your belly swoops. You think you might be sick. “Asked if I could pick her up.”

His expression slackens. Gaze descends to the floor. “This late?”

You nod solemnly. 

Shouldn’t he be happy his Aphrodite has returned?

It’s unnervingly quiet between you now, making way for the whisper of the wind threading through the leaves outside where the sticky click of your lips and labored breaths once lived. 

Your throat clicks when you swallow. You want nothing more than to pull him against you again, to be wrapped in the possessive circle of his arms. To pick up where you left off before morality leaked in. But that call served as your reality check, and you’re both grateful and resentful it came when it did.

Sylus beholds you with beseeching eyes. Looks as if he might protest, lips quivering around an excuse to draw you back in. But he drops it. Instead, he opts for, “I’ll bring the car around,” sounding so uncharacteristically somber that you wince. 

He brushes past you through the front door, swallowed by the dust-speckled night. Leaves you to nurse the violent thrum of your heart and battle the maelstrom in your head. 

She’s back. Things will return to normal. This moment never happened. This night never happened. 

Still, your lips burn with the remnants of the kiss. You unconsciously touch the trembling, distended things, deciding to tuck the memory into the furthest hulls of your mind. 

He’s not yours, remember? Never will be. Never could be.

—

The ride to the airport was uncomfortably tense. 

Sylus tried vainly to reignite the flames sparked by the night—little displays of affection, possession. Spindly fingers curling around your thigh, a peek at you through the corner of his vision, knuckles deftly brushing your cheek to bring you back to the present. 

You inched away from his touch despite every synapse in your brain screaming for you to let it happen. He gave up after the third try. Gripped the gear stick, white-knuckled and radiating a silent dejectedness. 

You forced out a shaky breath when the overwhelmingly bright, fluorescent airport signs panned into view. 

“Heya!” chirped Ms. Hunter, pulling you into a tight hug once you dismounted the car. “You look all fancy. What have you been up to?”

You were stiff in her embrace, a tight smile pulling at your lips. She smelled of stale perfume and wet earth. Long hair tickled your neck. She radiated a warmth you envied as you rigidly returned the hug.

“Oh, you know. Nefarious things and all that.”

Ms. Hunter drew back, hands roosted on your shoulders. Her smile faltered when she got a good look at you. When the driver’s door slammed shut, and Sylus rounded the car to stand behind you, hands stuffed in his pockets. Her honey-dipped eyes flit over your face. She sensed something was up. Of course, she did. Anyone within a 50-mile radius could see the tension dangling off your shoulders. She looked like she wanted to interrogate you, but—

“Welcome back,” said Sylus, his tone easy. You were thankful for the save. Didn’t have to look back to know he was wearing that familiar cant to his lips. A look he, until tonight, only wore for her. “I take it your mission went well, given how early you returned.” 

You would've tasted the faint notes of indignation there had you not been so swept up in your head. 

“You have no idea,” she laughed, exhaustion lancing through her words. You pat her head, fondly ruffling her hair. 

He helped her put her suitcase in the trunk as she animatedly regaled the details of her mission. He smirked and nodded, listening intently. You tuned everything out in favor of listening to your pulse drum beneath your skin. 

Sylus held the passenger door open, watching you expectantly. Signaled for you to get in with his eyes as Ms. Hunter stood awkwardly behind you. The tension was tangible. Obvious. It made you sick.

He frowned when you forwent the passenger seat, sliding into the back. The front seat was always her place. You were merely squatting there, keeping the leather warm in her absence. You caught sight of the tense set of his jaw when he shut the door behind her. Your heart sank to your feet. 

As Sylus eased the car onto the highway, they filled the stiff, blue-light-tinged air with small talk. Their conversation was seamless as if no time had lapsed between them. You propped an elbow on the door, watching the scenery fly by in a blur beyond your window. 

And you shut your eyes against those scarlet irises occasionally observing you in the rearview mirror, a silent question brewing beneath bowed lashes.

‘Have I done something wrong?’

No. Never. It’s you who’s royally fucked up.

—

“Listen, sweetheart. You both seem like nice girls. But I ain’t budgin’.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time. Scoff, a rigid set between your teeth. You’ve been like this for what feels like hours, propped against a wall, arms crossed, mind tumultuous. 

A few days after the hunter returned, Sylus sent his two gems to reclaim some of his property. Thelma and Louis at it again. 

You should be thrilled. You’ve been itching for a distraction since that night. When you let your emotions overwhelm you, and you gave into your selfish little whims. You can’t focus on much else, the pressure of Sylus’ lips still ingrained in your mind. The texture of his shirt sleeves between your fingers, the sound of his voice as he rasped his satisfaction into your skin. It replays like torn film reels in your mind, refusing to release you from its flimsy clutches. 

Since that night, he’s been uncharacteristically attentive. Filling the space with errant touches and lingering gazes. Rare quirks of his lips, an affectionate, secretive undernote to his timbre whenever he speaks to you. And his eyes. They bear more emotion than what you’re accustomed to seeing. 

It’s all been so very confusing, this new attitude of his. You don’t like it when things aren’t clear-cut and dry. Hate to beat around the bush.

You figured his attention would shift with the center of his universe back in rotation. 

To your chagrin and surprise, you’re wrong. You assume he’s only being so disarming because he needs you. Not just as his pretty little violent marionette. His honeypot. When Ms. Hunter inevitably leaves again—the life of a hunter must be so taxing—he’ll need someone to fall back on. A failsafe to keep his loneliness at bay. You just so happen to fit the bill.

The notion makes you scowl. The butcher’s voice isn’t helping curb your vexation, his laughter obnoxious and filled with phlegm. His fat ass isn’t taking either of you seriously. Of course, if you were him, you wouldn’t, either. 

Ms. Hunter’s been at this for a while, playing good cop to your bad. Trying to nice her way into getting him to sign the deed to his property back to Sylus. Really, it belongs to the latter man. He was just allowing the butcher to squat here while he carried out his work for Onychinus, slaughtering its opposition and packaging up their remains like fresh meat, shipping them off to anyone who dared utter the organization’s name in vain.

His use has run its course. He’s grown sloppy. Complacent. Disloyal. Been letting other faction leads buy him off, selling his knack of butchering to the highest bidder. He should be so lucky you’re not here to slit his throat.

Inwardly, you wonder if someday, you’ll suffer the same fate. If Ms. Hunter will be sent to snuff you out—your successor wiping you off the map like a blip on the radar. 

Until then, you’ll make yourself as indispensable as possible. Prove your worth. 

You push off the wall with a huff, face set with determination as adrenaline spumes through you. You close the distance between you and the hunter in four brisk strides. Snatch her pistol from the holster at her waist, barring her sentence in her throat. It’s weighted. Loaded. Good. 

You rack a round. Release the safety. The butcher barely has time to register anything before you aim. Inhale. Exhale. Pull the trigger at the lowest lull of your breath. And it’s so gratifying, the sound of a bullet whizzing past his ear and embedding itself in the plaster behind him. 

He’s petrified with fright behind his desk, mouth hinged open. Ms. Hunter blurs into focus beyond the front sight, turning incredulous eyes on you before narrowing them. The barrel’s still smoking, a satisfying, wispy cloud furling skyward. The leather grip squeaks in your hand, you’re holding it so tight. 

“Was that really necessary?” she berates. She’s doing that whisper-yelling thing. You’re in for an earful later. 

You shrug half-heartedly, reholstering her weapon. Push past, tugging the sleeves of your blazer up. “I’ve had enough of this,” you grate, snatching your leather gloves from your pocket and slipping them on with practiced precision. 

Neither of them knows what’s coming until you step behind the butcher. Until you’ve taken a fistful of sweaty, grease-slicked hair and acquainted his face with the bubbling finish of his desk with a loud thwack!

Ms. Hunter watches the scene unfold with horror twisting up her features. She’s rooted to the spot. Something plops on the desk. Evolves into a steady, sticky drip. Blood. Corrupted speckles of red staining the deed you’re meant to get signed. 

You lock eyes with your partner, bending at the waist over the butcher’s shoulder, grip unyielding on his hair. A show of power. Dominance, meant to convey, ‘This is how it’s done.’

A smirk twitches onto your lips. Your mouth brushes the outer shell of his ear, voice coming out deceptively doting. “Sign the fucking paper, or I’ll string you up like one of your little pigs and turn you into dog shit.”

His voice is wet. Strained, unflattering streaks of crimson leaking from his nose to puddle on the desk. “But—”

The hunter winces when you slam his face down again. He’s disoriented now. Swaying. If not for your iron grip on his hair, he’d fall into the arms of unconsciousness. 

“Okay, okay!” he relents, garbled and wet. 

You release his hair, shoving at his head none-too-gently, a facsimile of a smile rounding your lips. Perch a hand on his shoulder, squeezing with enough coercion to remind him of your potency. “Pleasure doing business with you, old man.”

The air thickens with fear. It’s quiet, save for the scratch of the butcher’s pen, as he shakily scrawls his signature on the deed, relinquishing his shop back to Sylus. You scrutinize the blood-flecked paper, satisfied. 

“I’ll give you until midnight to get the fuck out of here,” you casually say, snatching off your gloves to smooth out the lapels of your blazer. “Otherwise, I can’t guarantee your safety after.”

You leave the butcher to nurse a broken nose and a nasty headache, pushing past Ms. Hunter with a cocksure grin. 

“What the hell was that?!” she squeaks, rushing to keep pace with you as you step into the warm atmosphere outside, walking towards the sleek outline of your SUV.

“Business.”

“Yeah, but…did you have to threaten him like that? I mean, you could’ve killed the guy!”

With a scowl, you snatch the passenger door open for her to get in. “If you have a problem with how I do things, maybe you’re not cut out for this life, sweetheart.”

She scoffs disbelievingly. Haughty as she plops down on the passenger seat, crossing her arms. You’re being more venomous than usual. More pushy. You’re too far gone. You’ll apologize for making her your punching bag later. 

“What’s up with you?” she pressures once you’ve settled on the driver's side, discarding your gloves in the center console. Leans closer, squinting. You ease back. “You’ve been more bitchy than usual. You and Sylus have been acting weird.” 

She’s closer now, bursting your metaphorical bubble. Dangerously perceptive. You avoid eye contact as if doing so will reveal all the contents of your mind. Not that you have to. She’s alarmingly observant for someone who acts so naive. 

“Did something happen between you?”

You side-eye her as you start the engine, unknowingly confirming her suspicions. She quirks a brow, catching onto your game. Falls back against the leather of her seat to sulk over folded arms. “I knew it. Unbelievable. Didn’t I tell you to play nice while I was gone?!” 

“I’m always nice,” you counter under your breath, glaring at the console screen as you back up the SUV. 

The steering wheel scrubs between your hands after you shift to Drive, and as you slide the vehicle into the steady stream of traffic, you catch sight of the blood mottling the cuff of your sleeve, begging to differ. 

Maybe you’re being more ornery than you think.     

— 

The base is a network of paneled walls and glittering floors. Had you not been well-versed with its layout, you would surely get lost. But you’ve been here too many times. Once slept between these walls, laughed with the twins, and shared a glass of wine or two with your boss. 

Sometimes, he’d let you lie in his bed when your head was too fuzzy, and you couldn’t stop smiling after the wine left you tenuous and dazed. Nothing ever happened, much to your dismay. He was a gentleman through and through. And you never questioned him on why it was always his bed.

Things changed once Ms. Hunter entered the scene. 

This place used to be your asylum. Your respite from a world so vapid. For a moment, you could pretend the blood caked beneath your nails didn’t exist. And you could pretend you weren’t a weapon to be used at your employer’s disposal. But these days, you’ve avoided his mansion like a sickness, instead retreating to your own place in the city. You’re impeding. These walls no longer welcome you. 

You feel like a specter with unresolved conflict as you round the hall where Sylus’ study sits at its center. Your heart hurls itself against your rib cage. You’ve been distant since that night, shying away from his attempts to disarm you. All half-hearted ventures to keep you dangling on a frayed string until he next needs you to fill the void the hunter inevitably leaves. 

You tamp down your anxiety when the cool steel of the door handle bites into your palm. The voice inside is muffled. Deep. Resonant. Sylus is talking business. Orchestrating things that don’t concern you until he makes them your problem. You’ll be quick. Don’t want to stick around longer than necessary.  

Pushing open the heavy mahogany wood, you’re greeted by a shock of white nestled behind his desk. He’s on the phone. Looks up upon your entry, scarlet eyes narrowing, then softening with recognition. Your throat thickens.

You try to ignore how his look makes your stomach somersault. How every crevice of his office smells like him—bourbon, raw energy, and all things safe. You’re thrown back into the memory of that dusky night. The seal of his lips to yours, his fingers easing over the contours of your body like points on a star map.

Ignoring your thoughts, you conquer the distance between the door and his desk in measured strides, looking everywhere but at him. It’s too risky to maintain eye contact. He has a hold on you without trying. Without the straggly pull of his Evol, without the smoky compulsion of his voice. 

You plant the deed on the desk’s center with a muted thunk. His fingertips brush your knuckles, over the clutch of your hand. Static radiates between you. You reel back quicker than you mean to, bereft of the roughened slide of his fingers. Clear your throat, straighten your jacket. There’s a pinch between his brows, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

Sylus peers down at the paper, an inquisitive brow lifting at the oxidized brown dappling it. You give him a half-hearted shrug. You did your part. How you got there is a story for another day.

You don’t wait for him to dismiss you, wordlessly stepping away with a curt nod. He continues his conversation over your shoulder, and your body swells with relief. It’s short-lived when Ms. Hunter brushes past you on your way out of the door, tight-lipped and side-eyeing you with all the vexation of the world. 

Before you leave, you wait for the door to click shut behind you, catching wind of the hunter’s ire before thick layers of wood distort it. 

“Hang up the phone. We need to talk. Now.”

—

It’s a pleasure to dance. To forget yourself. 

Lux is lively tonight. Colored with mirth and strobing lights. Pounding music. You feel it in your chest as you move, a seductive, rehearsed smile crooking your lips. You rake your fingers through your hair. Drag your hands down the sweep of your waist, swiveling your hips, playing up your allure. You don’t have to do much to garner attention—it’s your job, remember?

You peacock about in the white metal birdcage you're housed in. Grab the bars, grinning down at the writhing crowd. It was your idea to give Lux a little umph, sweet-talking Sylus into having massive bird cages mounted from the ceiling. Fitting, given his obsession with pretty caged things.

Lux’s theme is ever-changing, courtesy of your eccentric mind. It keeps people coming in droves. Forces his enemies to rear their hideous mugs, lured to the nightclub by the promise of pretty women. 

The air between you was still dense. Rife with pheromones and unbidden feelings. But you were back donning your playful, arrogant mask as if the night you shared never existed. Back to flirting and giving Sylus the piss. 

The large faux wings you wear are surprisingly light. Stark, like the beautiful white tiger lounging on one side of the cage. The Bengal tiger yawns wide, giving you a show of pointed teeth. Teeth that could easily rip you asunder, yet he’s as docile as a house cat when you bend to pet through soft tufts of white. 

He slow-blinks at you, his gorgeous eyes shining like emeralds uncovered in a cave. You smile as you smooth your thumb over his nose. A pink tongue darts out to lick your palm. He reminds you of yourself—capable of extreme violence, yet docile in patient hands.

Your skin prickles. You notice you’re being watched, but not in a way you’re used to. A way that typically exudes desire. 

You turn to ingest a set of galaxy-infused eyes watching you intently through the throng of people. Youthful pockets of fat hang beneath his lower lids. A dark sweep of hair, thick brows. He towers over the crowd, a distinct cutout of virility and shrouded intentions. You don’t recall ever seeing him before. 

When your gazes intermingle, he smiles something corrupted. It doesn’t reach his eyes. You’re all too familiar with that look—one of a predator scoping out its next meal. Prey it intends to take its time eviscerating, licking its bones clean.

You smile all the more wider, and you smooth your hands over your body, maintaining eye contact as you play up the theatrics. It’s ritualistic in a way, how you move. Like you’re provoking him. You don’t know who this man is, but he’s ballsy, stepping into your den, challenging you.  

You tear your eyes away when the door to your cage swings open behind you, rocking it slightly on its hinges. A sizable hand peers in. You glance out, met with a riotous mop of white. Sylus. Gaze half-slit, relaxed. 

“Take five,” he says above the thumping music. 

You peer over your shoulder while taking his hand. The stranger you earlier locked eyes with has vanished, almost as if he were never there. You don’t pursue it. Not now at least. You allow Sylus to coax you down from the cage via hands at your waist. Stumble into him once on the ground, the air siphoned from your lungs. You're dizzy and breathless, being so close. He’s warm, smells divine, and you feel safe. Your palms press against his chest, his fingers wrapped about the crooks of your elbows to steady you.

He studies you with a reverent gleam to his irises as if he intends to kiss you, uncaring of any witnesses. Any questions. You shake away the thought, remembering yourself—your stance in his life. You offer him half a smile before retreating past him to the private bar for a drink. Something to ease your nerves, to cool your fevered skin.

Sylus’ expression hardens behind you as he scrutinizes the space you once stared at yourself. You don’t see the tenebrous threads of his Evol pouring from his body, licking the air. Don’t feel his aura bleeding a quieted malice, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. 

— tags: @unknown-ends, @viqlume, @nicohii, @beewilko, @lunebulous, @subliminalwish, @emneedshelp, @inkonparchment, @snowfall-jess, @bingbongchu, @greeenbeean, @shiorihoshino, @sillyfreakfanparty, @glamouroki, @midiplier, @kiri-tuk, @delulusimps, @moonlight-inthe-sea

climax 2.0 | masterlist | resolution

[cinnamanz]

— ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ MAMMA MIA ⋆౨ৎ˚ .ᐟ SOPHIA LAFORTEZA

❝𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔?❞

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

tags .ᐟ smau, crack, fluff, awkward idiots, grumpy x sunshine (or at least my attempt to), childhood bestfriends to lovers, theatre children, coarse language, suggestive themes, nonceleb! au, university au!, sexual jokes, kys nd die jokes, mentions of substances, my writing

featuring .ᐟ katseye, p1harmony, ive, le sserafim and etc

pairing .ᐟ sophia laforteza x female reader

status .ᐟ ongoing

notes .ᐟ this smau was made for fun and entertainment. it is not an actual portrayal of the people mentioned in this smau, nor are the photos used to portray y/n. ignore timestamps. dream academy is a performing arts university. divider cred: @/adornedwithlight. TAGLIST CLOSED.

❝𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐀, 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍?

𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐈’𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔?❞

PROFILES

rock, paper, 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 (and keeho) — mommy day care

01. oomfchella @ school

02. dire omen

03. livin la vida loca

04. tying the noose as we speak

05. lore

06. just like old times

07. extracurricular

08. for evermore

09. best friend of the year

10. casting

11. square up

12. a b c d e f g

13. love finds a way

14. petty

15. nonchalant mfs

16. getting somewhere

17. shady ahh tweet

18. concerned

19. easy to draw

20. u look like u hump trees

21. cry to ur homeboys

22. cool cover!

23. for free

24. onto sumn

25. I WILL NOT BE SILENCED

26. tom holland

27. awkward!

28. thoughts nd prayers

29. hardest battles

30. let her cook

31. party on you

32. does yn know ab this?

33. hooked up

34. good driver

35. NEW COUPLE ALERT

36. pack it up

37. they hit the pentagon

38. keeho

39. OH FUCK NO

40. our last summer

41. etsy witch

42. CLOCKED

43. women scaring women

44. wealth changed you

45. EVERYWHERE but the the studio

46. THAT SHOULD BE ME

47. SIGN

48. imgonnagetyouback

49. valentina

50. what in the schizophrenia

51. FAKE NONCHALANTER

52. woman losing woman

53. SOS

54. wait for it

more in progress!

™ CINNAMANZ 2025

— please do not repost, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way without permission. thank you! xx

[lustagel]

LOSER! RODRICK HEFFLEY * readers race is not mentioned, mwah! . ⟡

loser! rodrick barely has any friends but his band members. only wears his bands t-shirts and listens to music that hurts your ears. always in the garage practicing with his band, if not with his girlfriend. puppy dog eyes and longing stares. not-no-secret softie. wannabe rockstar. has a shoebox hidden under his bed full of ticket stubs from concerts, crumpled notes and photos of/from his girlfriend.

loser! rodrick can't wrap his head around how he even got her in the first place and neither can his parents. ego boost after getting a girlfriend and no one knows how she even puts up with him. tries to impress her in anyway he can. mostly rolls her eyes at his stupidity but clearly finds him amusing and has a soft spot for his cluelessness.

loser! rodrick yearns for her kisses and chases her lips every time he gets a chance. smells of her almost always because he’s always around her and on her. gives the most softest kisses to the top of her ears. follows her anywhere with dreamy eyes. writes terrible songs for her but has never shared them with anyone. asks her to kiss his drummer sticks for good luck and of course she does after telling him how stupid it is.

loser! rodrick knows everything about his girlfriend. her favorite sweet treat, what makes her heart arch, the color she adores the most, what makes her laugh he most, what perfume she buys the most, her favorite show and genre, how she tastes (believes he’s been blessed by the gods themselves to even be able to get a hand on you).

୨ he's such a loser he moaned into your mouth the first time you kissed

୨ loser! rodrick following cool! reader around when she’s wearing a swimsuit

୨ cool! reader being everybody's favorite person in some way shape or form

୨ possessive! reader making out with loser! rodrick to show people he’s hers and him getting a hard-on

୨ loser! rodrick who smells like musk and two day old clothes, while his new girlfriend smells of the sweetest scents known to man

© 2024 lustagel, do not use my work for your own benefit.

asks are open!

[shroomyv]

ᢉ𐭩-MORNING MUNCHER

Pairing: mark Grayson X F!reader

Synopsis: you and mark are both hungry. You’re hungry for food, he’s hungry for something else.

Warning: (kinda) corny mark grayson, little smut horny Drabble

A/N: this may be my shortest story up to date. It’s just a lil horny Drabble I had to get off and out of my mind. I’ll post a few more short fics soon after this one and I hope you enjoy them even tho there isn’t much. Also pussy eating/obsessed mark for the win. (Finally, I’d like to say thanks for 300 hearts on my last fic that must mean yall are enjoying my shitty lil stories. request are open as well)

It was already mid-morning—you and Mark enjoying another day off for once but you two still hadn’t done anything. You hadn’t even eaten.

“I'm hungry,” Mark said huffing into your neck as he held you tightly. “Well go get something to eat. Get me something too” You said back waiting for him to go off.

“I can get anything for us to eat right? Absolutely anything?” Mark said as he lifted from you. He had an absolute devious smile on his face but you weren’t paying much attention. “Yea anything-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, Mark was underneath the blankets latched onto your thigh getting ready to rip off your panties. “Mark!?” You shouted out his name trying to figure out what the hell he was even doing. “You said I can eat anything!”

Mark rebuddled as he was using your own words against you. Before you could protest further he got your panties off—he practically dived into your pussy. His face was stuffed in it as he inhaled for a second before pulling his face out. He just stared at it for a moment as if he was admiring your pussy.

“If you’re gonna eat it get on with it!” You shouted out. He loved how you went from protesting against it to wanting him to hurry the fuck up. He did as he was told—shoving his face right back in it as his tongue licked and sucked at your clit. You tried to move the blanket away as best as you could to see his face as you grabbed onto his head due to the pleasure. You felt like you were gonna pop already. He made sure he hit everything perfectly—only the best for you. Your thighs kept smashing in on his face and he’d just push em right back open and get back to work. He was no where near finished enjoying his meal.

“Oh…oh fuck mark…nhn.” You moaned and struggled to hold back wanting to have it last longer than it was currently. Mark spoke muffled

“Ust…mcum,” he said before going right back to sucking as you eventually cummed. His face was covered in your cum before he lifted his head. “I kinda want seconds what do you think?” Mark said with a smirk on his face. His lips coated in your cum and eyes beaming at you as he waited for your answer.

You wasted not a second to reply, “Absolutely.”

(Honestly, could’ve written more…if this does well enough who knows…👀

[vultursvolans]

— ☆ contents: dealing with dragon!form zhongli who possesses cat-like behaviours. human reader. dragon husband. sfw. fluff. established relationship. might be a little ooc. this is very unserious. 0.6k. | masterlist (i’m a dark content blog so mdni).

Dragon!Zhongli who acts much like an affectionate housecat despite his towering size and the magnitude of his status.

He, who is so comfortable around his human partner that he isn't afraid to bear his dragon form day-to-day, lest his cat-like behaviours (endearing as they are) go unnoticed.

Every time you run your fingers through the silk of his dark locks or scratch at the base of his horns, that's when it starts. A deep, soothing vibration beneath his scaled chest. The low rumble is almost hypnotic as his amber eyes drift closed, lulling him (and yourself) into a state of ease. If you remain watchful, you'll catch the corners of his lips curl ever-so-slightly upwards.

You can’t help but giggle because you know it’s not quite purring, but it might as well be.

Dragon!Zhongli whose tail is as much part of his personality as his deep voice and eloquent spiels. First and foremost, that thing is unapologetically heavy. When he’s in a good mood, it swishes around lazily, thumping against the furniture or brushing against your legs as he walks by.

Once it knocked over an entire stack of books and while you were busy laughing, he just sighed and said, “An unfortunate accident.” But if he’s feeling especially affectionate? Even worse. That's when you really have to watch out. It possessively curls around you and suddenly you’re dealing with the weight of a solid tail pulling you closer to him. You’ve almost toppled over a few times because of it.

“Careful, Zhongli,” you’ll tell him. “You might end up sweeping me off my feet.” Then he chuckles at you, tail tightening around your waist just a smidge.

That’s the idea, of course.

Dragon!Zhongli who feigns annoyance every time you act on your favourite habit: lifting his lips to inspect his fangs.

They’re a far cry from the tiny, delicate teeth of a cat, which is the only other creature you’ve subjected to this odd little inspection but that makes them even more fascinating.

"Must you do this every time?" he asks, lips pulling back just enough for you to admire them. They were sharp, pristine, and unsettlingly perfect. Enough to crack a bone with a single snap of his jaw but it was the same mouth he kissed you with. You never got used it.

"I'm lucky you’ve never nicked me with these," you’ll tease, brushing your finger along the largest fang.

Zhongli's responses are always the same: a long exhale as if you've just asked him to recite every contract he's ever known (which he could btw), followed by, “You’re enamoured with the oddest things.” But he lets you do it anyway. His words begin lose a bit of their weight when his tail slowly starts swaying behind him, exposing that he’s enjoying it more than he lets on.

And no one will ever believe you when you tell them how he is when he's feeling playful. It's a rarity but he'll nudge you gently with his horns as a display of affection and if you don't respond right away, he'll flick his tail at you. Not hard but enough for you to look his way.

Pay attention to me, it seems to say.

It’s mischievous, even if for a moment. Then you’ll catch a glint in his eye while he pretends to be all composed, but truly, he finds it amusing how he easily this form could be used as a weapon against you when he warrants his own needs.

The mighty dragon, who can command the earth itself, is stripped of his grandeur when you're around, replaced by a creature who wants nothing more than to be with you in the simplest way. And if you mention it, he’ll give you that look of half exasperation and half fondness before pulling you closer and acting like it’s purely your fault he’s such a softie with you.

a/n: if it wasn’t obvious already, i am a cat person (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

© 2025 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[satorella]

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰”

“Y’know you have to go back to Germany eventually, right?” You said while lying on 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He sighs, dragging a finger up and down your spine. “I know, Liebchen [darling/sweetheart].” He pauses before continuing, “…I hate leaving you...” You had no response. You couldn’t tell him to just up and drop his career for you. Not that you would ever make him, or let him, do that in the first place. Soccer was all he knew, before you. And you were understanding of that. “Come with me.” He breaks the silence. You lifted your head up off his chest and gave him a confused look. “Micha, you know I can’t.” “Why not? You’re not even happy here in your own country.” He made a good point.

“So, what? Just drop everything, sell my house, my car, leave my friends and family, my life behind?” You were pacing around your room now, while he was still relaxed on your bed, his private area only being covered by the thin blanket. He was casually just flipping through the novel you were currently into. “Ja.” [Yes.] You stopped and glared at him. “Babe, this is serious. Do you realize what you’re asking of me?” “Mhm.” Your eye twitched at his nonchalance. He snaps your book shut and finally looks up at you. “I’ll take care of you. What was that thing you would always say? That you’re ‘meant to be a passenger princess’ or whatever? Well, now you can be.” He shrugs. “For the record, I only said that once or twice!” You look away sheepishly. He couldn’t help but smirk at your expression. “Riiiight.” He replied sarcastically, sitting up on the edge of your bed. He pulled the blanket off, exposing himself and patted his thigh, beckoning you to come. You practically melted at the gorgeous, naked sight of him and walked over. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in between his legs, “Come on, Engel [Angel].” His voice was soft. “And what about when you leave for games? I’ll be alone again, but in a foreign country.” You slightly pouted, playing with the blue ends of his hair. He shrugged again, “You will come with me to my games too. So einfach ist das.” [It’s that simple.] It wasn’t a bad idea.

You did love watching him play. You even got too into it at times.

He remembered one time when he’d been shoved and landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. As he laid there on the field, trying to get his breath back, he looked up into the stands and saw you screaming at the top of your lungs at the ref, almost about to climb over the railing to give the other player a piece of your mind. Thankfully, Ness was benched during that half of the game and was able to calm you down before security came. It turned him on… how feral you got for him…

He dicked you down so good that night.

He pulled you even closer so that you were straddling him now, his hands making their way under your robe and slowly up your sides. “S-So… you realize… you’re basically asking me to move in with you, right?” You clarified. His hands slowly moved up higher, thumbs lightly tracing circles on your bare skin. “That’s the general idea, ja.” He kept talking as if all this was no big deal. But now that you think about it, it would have happened eventually… so. He hummed as he gently cupped your breasts, taking your now hardening nubs between his index and middle finger. You slightly threw your head back, enjoying his touch. He grabbed ahold of your hips as you started to rock against him, his grip becoming a bit rougher as he started to guide your movements. He leaned in, pressing his lips against you; starting from your shoulder and making his way up to your neck. “M-Micha… we… we still need to discuss this…” You bit your bottom lip, trying to stay focused. “No more talking. Just fucking.” His voice was low and demanding; once bright blue eyes, now dark. “Sag einfach ja.” [Just say yes.] He whispers. You let out a content sigh. He really knew how to make you loosen up, didn’t he?

Tsk.

He undid the knot on your robe and let it slip off of you. A shiver ran through you as the cool air hit your skin, along with his touch. You moaned out a “yes” just as you sunk down onto his hard cock. You guys may actively fuck like rabbits, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his larger size. He gave you a second to adjust, before he wrapped your legs around his waist and stood up to place you on the edge of your vanity. “Ah! B-Babe! My makeup!” You whimpered as his hard thrusts caused all your things to topple over. He grabs your chin and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss to stop you from talking.

“I’ll buy you more in Germany.” He grunts.

© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Join my tag list!📋

(𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒌 discord server👯‍♀️)

[nemesyaaa]

❝ no brain. only big arms and fat thighs.❞

featuring himbo!rafe x reader.

⸻★himbo!rafe who’s a beast of muscles, all beefy and heavy, literally the bulky man towering everyone around him. when he's not putting on his stupid preppy kook dressing, he loves wearing those little tight t-shirts that are too small to fit his big tits but shows off his well-shaped six pack.

⸻★ himbo!rafe who is the king of manspreading. you can be sure that his massive legs are always highly spreaded every time he sits down somewhere. bonus, when he's wearing one of those favorite shorts after going to the gym, and his thick thighs are naked enough to reveal his fleshy skin filled with hard stunning veins.

✦ He's HUGE so ofc, he's gonna take a lot of place. ⸻ “sit on my lap, baby. you don't need a seat. ”

⸻★ he's more a female magnet than a womanizer. attracts women as well as he knows how to catch them but it doesn't mean he's got a hard interest in them. you're the one he cares about. he's not smart enough to get them with his brain but like any good himbos, he knows how to use his physique to his advantage. ⸻ his pretty face saves his lack of culture.

⸻★ biggest and proud member of the thirst trap community. you can be sure that he posts hundreds of photos after the gym of his large thighs and strong arms, flexing his muscle on the bathroom mirror to get all those veiny lines bulging his thick biceps and pecs.

⸻ he likes to pretend that it's for his gym bros but will delete the story if you don't see or react to his post.

✦ of course, he's an attention whore when it comes to you. that's a true himbo.

( the rest under the cut...)

⸻★ himbo!rafe who will take every opportunity he gets to show you how strong he is.

no matter your weight, he's bigger than you so don't you dare worry about your body size. you're perfect. he's gonna lift you up so easily, and it's also an excuse to show you how well–builded he is.

✦ if your feets hurt, he will carry you a short distance as well as a long one. he will open all the jam jars for you, and carry all your bags and suitcases. with him, you won't move a finger and you can be sure that you won't break any nails.

✦ you are a princess to him, and he will treat you with all the respect a girl like you deserves. he doesn't call you his baby for nothing.

✦ and that man loves to smack on your ass but you immediately need to calm him down because he doesn't know about his heavy strength. like this man, he's kind of a beast, could bruise you with just one good slap.

⸻★ big addict when you touch and compliment his physique. like yes, praise him. you're the gool girl he craves and literally dreams of. huge simp when you've just done your nails and you're testing their quality on him. he loves having your wild marks on his skin. come on, he's big. ⸻ his huge size is literally not for the WEAK so he's begging at your feets for you to use your nails on him. he wants you to dig them so hard so that every time he looks at his broaden back in the mirror, he remembers why he's paying for any of your girls appointments.

⸻★ 100% jealous. he’s really is. he doesn't want to share you. even if you're not his girlfriend, he’s convinced that you are his and that you belong to him.

the problem with himbo!rafe is that he's not really that smart... even if you're the one who made the first move with this guy in the club, you can be sure that the innocent person with whom you flirted will end up in a hospital bed...⸻while you will have all the privilege of ending up in his bed. (women can do no wrong)

he doesn't want to hear or know the context. (be serious, he's not gonna understand it in any case.) like any himbos, he hates to think. he only trusts what he sees. so if he has to spend all the party breaking the jaws of all these guys around you, you can be sure he will do it.

you don't want to care about him ? he's gonna show you a reason why you should.

this man will literally fight. yea, he got muscles to show off but also to be sure to destroy his rivals.

he is proactive. he acts, he does not think.

⸻★ if you want to go out in a short dress, a mini skirt, any tiny piece of clothing, you can be sure that he won't say no but will be clinging to you like a leech. like he's okay with your outfit but you don't go anywhere without him. it's THE RULE.

✦ if you're not okay with that, fine. you're gonna cry about it at home.

and you can pout, he doesn't care. (you're still pretty so…)he will literally mock you by saying don't play games you're gonna lose if you want to win.

“ but raf…” you start. but he doesn't care. “ do not rafe me. you've done enough tonight. ” “ i want to go to the party ! ” “ no, you just want to get on my nerves so you stay here. ”

but if you're going out and the other boys want to look at you, there's no problem. you can be sure that in the next second, their faces will be too broken to continue staring at you.

⸻★ don't talk to him about things that are too complicated like politics, ecology or feminism, you're gonna waste your time. the only thing on his mind is you so don't confuse him with things he'll never understand.

⸻★ himbo!rafe who adores when you need him. like, if this man doesn't wait for your call every time.... that's probably the only reason he has a phone.

he loves when you need him, even for random things. you need a driver? he is there. you need money? give him the amount and it's done. you need advice on your new outfit? he's gonna worship you.

⸻★ himbo!rafe who always got a soft spot for you and called you by sweet nicknames like baby, princess, peach, and pretty. he's listening to everything you have to say, don't make you repeat even if he doesn't understand a single word of what you're saying. ⸻ “ rafe, you're not listening. ” you shouted softly, snapping at him. “ of course, i'm listening baby. ” “ okay so what did I say ? ” “ that you wanna hang out with me tonight ? ” he proposed with such an obvious smile that you're forced to laugh at his audacity. “ i didn't say that. ” “ okay, but do you wanna hang out tonight ? you can't say no. i mean, it's yes or yes. ” “ okay, i wanna hang out with you tonight. ”

if you hate some people, you can be sure he's gonna be the biggest hater of those people too. but easy girl, because he's also the biggest hater of boys that you love.

✦ himbo!rafe who loves when you cry on his arms because one, his ego needs to be the first man you think about when you're sad, but also because he loves to carry you against him. shush you everytime you sob, but also kiss your forehead dearly. he's so gentle at the moment, but the moment he knows the name of who makes you cry, he's turning into an evil man.

⸻★ when you show interest in him, he loses his mind. he's like a sweet giant puppy. he's not the type to blush when you look at him but he just wants to squish you in his big arms. like, you are so nice and pretty.

you make him feel so dumb ( when in fact, he's really stupid on daily and it's not about you.)

⸻★ it's also a sucker for the size difference between the two of you. like, you are so small compared to him. so, don't try to run away from him, he will always be faster than you. himbo!rafe loves to play around with it, resting his arms on your head when he's next to you, joking about your small feets compared to him, pretending to not see you when you're around.

it's all a joke until he finds that thing can be a kink…

and that you’re maybe into it.

⸻★ himbo!rafe who's is a BIG VIRGIN not because he doesn't get any opportunities to fuck some bitches but this man wants to get his first time with you and only you.

✦ not only he cares about his virginity, but he does checks on yours every time.

⸻★ he's got a nice cock if you ask, everything so good-shaped about him…but god, he's such an himbo. there is nothing in his brain, so don't expect your dumb puppy to know how to use his pretty dick.

[keeryhours]

Masterlist

Thinking about Pussydrunk Eddie, who worships you every time he can get his paws on you. Who follows you through the halls at school, pressing up against you every time you’re alone - “Please, baby, just another taste? Just one more, I swear.”

Who drags you to the bathroom the second you give in, pushing you up against the wall and getting on his knees. Pushes your skirt up and buries his face in your cunt, breathing in your scent and tasting your perfect slick. He’s never tasted anything sweeter.

Who drags his long tongue through your folds, tasting every inch of you, circling his tongue around your clit before sucking on it, making your knees buckle. He holds you up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder as he devours you like his last meal.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, princess. I can’t get enough of this perfect little pussy. ‘s perfect for me.”

Who fucks you with his fingers while he eats your pussy, skilled fingers pressing right up against that spot deep inside you can’t reach on your own. Who eats you until you’re grabbing onto his curls - “Oh fuck, oh fuck Eddie, I’m gonna cum, I’m-“

“I know it baby, let go f’me.”

Who moans as you cum on his fingers and his tongue, lapping up every bit of slick you give him, not wasting a single drop. Who cums in his fucking jeans just from making you fall apart.

“Eddie, did you-?”

“Yeah baby, couldn’t help myself. You’re too fuckin’ good. Skip with me and help me clean up?”

Pussydrunk Eddie, who skips the rest of the day and drags you to his van, speeding back to his trailer. Who brings you into his room while Wayne is at work and wastes no time getting you both naked. Who spreads your legs wide on his mattress, stroking his hard, thick cock as he looks down at you.

“Y’gonna take me, princess? Gonna let me fuck you like you need to be fucked?”

“Mmhmm, Eddie, please…”

Pussydrunk Eddie, who presses your thighs up against your chest, watching his massive length sink into your perfect walls. Who isn’t shy about his moans, desperately whining and groaning as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Yeah, yeah, so fuckin’ good baby, feels so fuckin’ good. Pussy’s grippin’ me just right, like it was fuckin’ made f’me. Fuuuuck baby, gonna make me blow my load in that little cunt.”

Pussydrunk Eddie, who doesn’t mean to, but he loses control and cums early, filling you up. You don’t mind, but thank god for birth control.

“Ah! Ah! Fuuuuck princess, shit, take it all baby, take all’ve me. Fuck, you’re gettin’ filled up so nice, my cum’s so fuckin’ deep in you.”

Pussydrunk Eddie, who knows you didn’t get to cum, so he pulls out and buries his face between your thighs again, tasting the mix of you and him. He devours until there’s nothing left, until your whole body is shaking around him and you can’t even form coherent sentences anymore.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

“That’s it, baby. You know who makes you feel this good.”

[chidorrrita]

・❥・I'm your puppet

You bring up the idea of L using you to distress. He agrees. Absolute filth follows.

: ̗̀➛ l lawliet x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: smut (pretty obvious), heavy degradation, slight praise, breeding, slapping, slight cum eating, being called pretty little thing and slut, reader is a freak for L

: ̗̀➛ wc: 1000+

: ̗̀➛ a/n: two posts in a week, who would have guessed. anyways please enjoy the degenerate activities here. 

L positions you in the way he wants, pulls you up by your throat, long fingers curling around constricting your breaths, until your body is pressed against his, as his hips snap against the fat of your ass causing a “pap pap” sound to echo throughout your room. 

He’s relentless in his search for pleasure, paying you no mind, as his hand begins to squeeze your throat, the other snakes its way to seize your hip in a bruising grip, and hot pants and low grunts escape his chapped lips as they brush against your ear. Your mind turns to mush, no longer able to distinguish pain and pleasure as it creates a sinful mix tricking you into begging for more. All that comes out is a series of babbles, drool dripping down onto your chest, and L smugly laughs at your pathetic self. Too drunk off this moment to say or do anything as he bends you over, forcing your head into a pillow, to hit that sweet spongy spot inside. You let out a scream of delight as if he understood your pleads, and in return clench around his cock deliciously. He lets out another grunt, deep from within his chest, and smacks your ass letting the sting linger before smacking it again with just as much force. It sends your body jolting forward, too much for your broken mind to handle, and you try to squirm from his grasp, but he drags you back to where you belong. Taking his cock like you were made for this, made to be ruined by him. 

Muffled mewls and a feeble excuse of thrusting yourself back on his dick makes his mind lose focus. Normally crippled by the weight of his cases, L kneels taller now, filled with thoughts of fucking you full. He pulls out, just kissing your hole with his flushed tip, until ramming himself back in, setting a brutal pace on your body. You couldn’t be more delighted. 

It was your idea to help him distress. A method, other than eating a concerning amount of sweets, to relax him. 

You picked at the threads on your sweater as you watched him reach for another stack of macarons after downing two boxes. His fingers danced across his keyboard, quickly typing out a report in some language you can’t discern, before he spots you shyly inching over. 

L stuffs a strawberry macaron in his mouth before asking “woul’ ‘o’ ‘ike o’e” offering you a vanilla one. 

“No it’s okay” you say trying to hide a chuckle bubbling its way out. “I was actually wondering how your job is going.”

He continues to violently chew, “ ‘qui’e ‘ell,” he swallows thickly, “why do you ask?”

“Well,” you peer down to your socks, rubbing your toes against the carpet, “I was just worried if you were stressed. You’ve eaten almost three boxes of those.”

“Sugar keeps the brain awake,” he states matter-of-factly as he goes to grab another one.

Your hand stops his, holding it in place, and he looks up to you slightly confused with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. He’s trying to read you.

“Maybe you should rest a while. Let your brain reset, you know?” His gaze shifts to his laptop. The report is nearly finished, and it has been weeks since he could sleep for more than an hour. He can never fully rest on a job like he can when he’s with you. His mind is plagued by images of known friends and nameless faces calling him, but you keep them at bay. Perhaps resting will do him some good. 

His voice softens to barely a whisper, “that would be good,” until he corrects himself “then I can continue working.”

“I’ll help you distress.”

L starts to get ready for bed, gingerly changing into his pj’s which really only consists of taking off his pants, and begins to slip into bed until he notices your apprehensive self still standing at the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Nothing, nothing,” but you still remain at the door.

His eyes squint in suspicion, letting silence question you instead of him. You quickly relent. “I mean… Well I feel bad now.”

More silence.

You sigh, frustrated at the fact your will power breaks so easily for him. “I was going to ask if you wanted to have sex to distress, but then you were actually going to sleep and now-”

“I would very much like to have sex with you.” 

“-I feel like an asshole- wait what?”

“I said I would like to have sex.”

The air in the room turns thick with the smell of sweat and sex cut by your pornagraphic moans, and L’s harsh pants, and the sound of his heavy balls hitting your ass. 

The position he has you in makes him hit even deeper than you could imagine, leaving you incapable of moving let alone thinking, but no need to think. A pretty little thing like you doesn’t need to think when you have L as your lover. He knows what you need is to be a good little slut and take his cum.

Your hoarse voice says “‘is too much. Can’t take it.” between moans, legs shaking underneath L’s thighs.

He accentuates each word with a thrust. “Yes.” “You.” “Can.” forcing the bed frame to hit the wall. 

He bends over your hunched frame, lips leaving sloppy wet kisses against your neck until he reaches your neck and he whispers “be good for me,” and you cum.

Stars dance around the corner of your vision as a soundless scream escapes you, and your hole tightens around L’s cock making him hiss. He drops to his elbows, succumbing to only shallow thrusts until it’s all too much and he cums filling your hole and pushing it back in with his cock. He stays until he softens and falls out, and his eyes fall on your thighs. His cum is smeared across your inner thighs, dripping down between your ass and on to the bed. He scoops it back up and pushes it in, not wanting to waste a single drop, and you moan at the intrusion. 

He takes his cum covered fingers to your parted lips, already familiar with routine, and you wrap them around his fingers, tongue swirling to get every last bit. You release them with a ‘pop,’ eyes waiting patiently for your reward, and he obliges, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. 

He gets up to get a towel and begins to get you cleaned up, kissing each bruise he left, and massaging your sore limbs. 

“You did so well for me.”

“Would you say you’re sufficiently relaxed?”

“Yes, very relaxed. Thank you.”

He kisses your head, and tucks you into bed smiling to himself. How he ever got you to be his lover, he will never know, but he is forever grateful you are.

[starmapz]

BLOW ME (ONE LAST KISS)

𓉸 fwb!satoru gojo x f!reader

𓉸 kinktober smut oneshot

❝ it's been two years since you last saw satoru. showing up at his door in the dead of night wasn't on your list of things to do today, but when things don't work out with your boyfriend, you find yourself back at your old best friend and fuck buddy's door. ❞

𓉸 warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. fwb to strangers to lovers type thing. pwp. fluff. hurt/comfort. gojo's a lovable idiot. sub!gojo. whiny!gojo. pet names (baby, sweetheart, pookie, darling, pretty girl, pretty, love). slight spitting. slight overstim. oral (m! and f! receiving). praise. handjob. unprotected. creampie. p in v. fairly soft n sweet.

𓉸 words ; 10.8k.

𓉸 a/n ; this turned out so much longer than i expected but i had a lot of fun writing the story so i hope you enjoy!

masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist

Bleary-eyed with exhaustion, Gojo’s barely able to keep himself upright as a knock at the door urges him out of bed at three in the morning. He yawns tiredly as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and shuffles down the hall to his front door.

He wouldn’t say he’s shocked to see you standing at his door, it’s not the first time you’ve made your way over unannounced. No, the shocking part of this encounter is that he hasn’t heard a peep from you since two years ago when you ended your ‘benefits’ agreement with him after getting a boyfriend.

He scratches his bare chest, looking you up and down. Your hair is a mess, mascara streaks are smudged on your cheeks in a lazy effort to cover up the evidence of your tears and the little fuzzy kitty cat shorts and matching shirt you’re wearing tell him everything he needs to know.

But why come to him?

“You broke up.” It’s not a question, he doesn’t need you to answer. The proof is written across your face.

“Something like that.” Your voice is raspy, throat raw from the sobs that wracked your body earlier, though now you just seem exhausted.

But why come to him, not your close friends?

Silently, Satoru’s eyes raise to your car. All of your belongings are clearly stuffed in the back seat from what he can tell. You’re shuffling from foot to foot, standing a small distance away from him.

“So are you here to fuck?”

It’s blunt, but it’s the truth of the agreement you once had. Though Gojo’s somewhat bitter tone is a reminder that you had forgotten about the ‘friends’ portion of that agreement somewhere along the way.

You hesitate, jaw opening and closing once, twice, three times as you search for an explanation but in truth you aren’t sure why you’re here. The thought tears you apart inside and you bring your arms up around your torso, shrinking in on yourself. That can’t be all that’s left of what was once your closest friendship.

But after all these years, maybe it is.

“No, I’m not,” you whisper softly, avoiding his gaze. “I… I should go.”

Even in his bitterness, your ex friend doesn’t have it in him to let you drive off to god knows where in the middle of the night alone when you’re clearly upset and came to him for help. With a tired sigh, his hand grabs your wrist and he tugs you inside.

You let out a surprised gasp as he easily pulls you into his house, shutting the door behind you. He takes a step back, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he waits for an explanation that never comes as you grapple with your own thoughts. His mind drifts back to the last time he saw you, a bitter taste bubbling in his throat at the thought.

He remembers the way you excitedly told him you had a date. He’d smiled, turning to face you on the couch, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He doesn’t think you noticed, too caught up in your own excitement.

You had told him the benefits needed to end. It didn’t matter to him, he was never in this for the benefits.

In truth, he figured you would come back to him with the realization you had feelings for him. You were always so enthusiastic around him, you were the one always pushing the boundaries you had established. Satoru never minded, but the longer the agreement went on, he was sure you would come to the same realization he had.

He was so sure you would reciprocate the feelings he was so afraid to voice out of fear of losing his closest friend. After all, he had really only agreed to your whole ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement because he thought it would give him the opportunity to get closer to you.

The cocky asshole that he is, Gojo Satoru thought that his dick game was so good you would fall for him.

Then you went on a second date with the guy, gushing to Gojo about him with a movie playing in the background and he realized just how wrong he was.

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so colossally and he didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t know if he even could fix it.

It was on the fourth date that your new guy made it official and you texted Satoru right away.

He feigned happiness. He would be what you needed him to be.

But the recoil of his complicated relationship with you hit him fast and hard.

It started with a decrease in time spent with you, which he could live with. Then, it was a decrease in excited texts. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, when his time had once been completely occupied by you and only you. Regardless of the benefits of your friendship, that was never what mattered to him.

You were like the sun to him. You shone brighter than anyone he had ever met, your smile as radiant as it was beautiful. Burned into his mind like a polaroid, cherished, even in the two years since he’s seen you.

There was no argument that ended everything, no big explosion or blow up of emotions that caused something so dear to both of you to fizzle out suddenly. It all came from a place of not knowing what to do after the benefits ended.

It wasn’t like sex was the only thing you did with one another. In fact, most of your time spent together was watching movies, playing games, or just gossiping and chatting. When the sex ended, however, something lingered.

It was that lingering feeling that shattered what remained of the bond you shared. Between longing looks from Satoru while out on a bubble tea run, and lingering physical attraction to him that left you uncertain, it was too much for you.

Just like that, you slowly stopped responding. You can’t blame Satoru for the fact that he stopped trying to reach out either, if you were in his place you’re certain you would have been embarrassed by the amount of unread messages he’d sent.

Now, you’re ashamed for letting your greatest ally, your biggest cheerleader and your most eager movie buddy slip through the cracks so easily. So blinded by new, young, love that you never stopped to see what was already in front of you.

Although the loss of your closest friend was gradual, fizzling away until there was nothing left, it changed you irreparably. The changes were small at first, they came in the form of little things that would bring your mood down as you reached for your phone to excitedly text him only to falter. With time, the uncertainty and lingering sorrow became a constant numbness and you were so caught up in your own world you couldn’t identify what caused it. You couldn’t make out the little hole in your heart in the shape of Satoru. With time, the hole grew until it was so immense that it resulted in a fight with your boyfriend.

A long fight in which he had insisted that although he cared for you, he had come to terms long ago with the fact that you didn’t feel the same way that he did anymore. The most gut wrenching part was that he was right, but you couldn’t accept that he was right for so long, because you couldn’t accept that you had feelings for someone you hadn’t seen in two years.

Now, standing in front of him, you’re at a complete and utter loss for words. All this time without a word and to think that he’d still let you in. No, he’d pulled you in. After two years of silence, two years of doing him so painfully dirty, he was still here. For you.

“Why are you here?” He asks again when the silence grows so loud he thinks he might be going crazy.

“Can we sit down?” You ask him quietly, feeling guilt wash over you as your eyes trail his washboard abs, as though you have any right to admire just how good he looks.

He steps aside, letting you walk into his living room. It looks almost the same as the day you were last here, probably yapping about your date like a damn fool. The only real difference is that the photo that once sat on a shelf in the corner of the room of the two of you at an aquarium was gone. A pang of sadness courses through you at the realization that he’s probably let you go.

You’re too late. You fucked up.

Gingerly, you take a seat on the soft couch, squirreling your way as far into the corner as you can. You feel small in his presence, unable to read him as you once could. You’re not familiar with the painfully neutral expression he wears, masking what lies beneath. The hint of bitterness to top it all off only adds to the taste of bile in your mouth.

“I owe you a lot of things, Satoru,” you begin. You’d run over what you planned on saying for an hour in the car before gathering the courage to walk to his door, yet the words died in your throat as soon as you took in the sight of him.

He sits opposite you, the distance between the both of you like a rope pulled taut. All you want to do is pull him towards you, but you fear the rope might snap if you do, frayed at the ends. You swallow hard, chancing a glance at those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. It will never be enough. You left him behind, and no apology will ever do him justice. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper again, choking on your words as tears burn in your eyes.

Satoru lets out a long breath. He never stopped hoping, praying, you would come back, but now that he has you here, something holds him back. Fear, maybe. Dejection, assuredly.

He doesn’t want to be your second choice.

As a tear trails down your cheek whilst you try your best to stay strong before him, the grip that fear has on him becomes frail, crumbling at the sight of his best friend, his movie buddy, his girl, crying.

“C’mere,” he sighs, sliding across the couch as he closes the distance between you. You cling to him like a lifeline as you sob against his bare chest. His skin is soft and warm, just as you remember it, tainted by your salty tears.

It takes him a moment, but his arms do eventually snake around your waist, pulling you into him.

“You deserved so much better back then,” you hiccup, a sound that has Satoru shutting his eyes as your pain crackles in the air around him, charged. “You deserve better now, I shouldn’t be here, I-” You panic suddenly, pressing open palms against his chest to push yourself away but his arms don’t relent. In fact, he rests his chin softly atop your head as he tucks you back against his chest in an effort to soothe you.

He still doesn’t say a word, but the silence and his insistence on holding you tightly serves as your encouragement to talk. That’s all Satoru wants, it’s all he needs. He needs to understand what happened. He wants to know why you’re here after two years of radio silence.

And do you ever talk. The words spill from you, messy and unorganized thoughts falling from your lips like a waterfall.

“You tried so hard to get through to me, and I was such an asshole. I kept trying to- to-” you stammer over your words as you catch your breath between sobs, “-to tell myself my attraction to you was just physical, but then I cut you off anyway and that wasn’t fair. I just don’t think I ever realized-” again, a sob wracks your body, “-that I had feelings for you, I wasn’t willing to admit it because that was my number one rule between us and then I ruined everything anyway, so what does it matter?”

You sniffle, the tips of your fingers gripping at his skin.

“I was so stupid, and everything was so much worse without you. I wanted to text you to tell you little things but anytime I stared at your contact, it scared me how long it had been and how awful I felt and now- now-” you swallow hard, “-now I’m here in front of you and I don’t know what I’m even saying. I- I-” you stammer, your breathing picking up as the words fall from your lips before you have a chance to think twice about them. “-I think I’m in love with you.”

Satoru stiffens beside you, his arms rigid with the revelation. It takes a moment to sink in, before his chin lifts from your head and he pulls back to see your expression. Your cheeks are puffy, eyes red, pupils blown. You look exhausted, and somewhat shocked, as if you’ve just realized this yourself.

His eyes have the sea held within them as turmoil flows through them. Wave after wave, each crashing ashore as he wrestles with his own thoughts.

He whispers your name in a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He should have told you two years ago, before everything became so complicated. “I can’t be your second choice,” he sighs, rejecting you, although his arms don’t leave the tight grip he holds on you.

Of course he never stopped loving you. He got together with others afterwards, had the odd fling here or there, but it was never enough. It never filled the hole in his heart that you’d carved to fit you and only you.

Yet you didn’t fit within that hole either now, he feared. His heart had been hollowed out for someone that didn’t exist anymore.

“We broke up,” you tell him, as though he doesn’t already know. He just stares at you, so you continue. “He told me something changed after we started dating. Like a part of me died and he was never sure why,” you sigh, staring blankly at Satoru’s chest. “He said his feelings weren’t being returned, and he was right.”

Satoru’s grip on you tightens. It’s miniscule, but you feel the way he pulls you just the tiniest bit closer.

“I just couldn’t admit it to myself. It felt wrong because of all the rules,” you try to explain, but it’s all a pathetic attempt at what you’re trying to get to. “You were never my second choice, Toru.” The nickname sets his heart racing beneath your palm. “You’ve always been it for me. I was just too caught up in those stupid rules to see that.”

Pain lingers in the back of his mind, but something new seems to fill his chest. Like you’ve found the hole in his heart that he was so sure could never fit you again, and you’re molding it to fit you as you are now. Healing him in your own way.

“I’m not a rebound,” he blurts out. He can’t let you in so easily, not when you could snap him in two like you had once before. Yet beneath the walls he’s trying to uphold, he’s so painfully vulnerable, an open book for you to see. Behind your tear-filled eyes, he knows you recognize this.

“Never,” you agree, the tips of your fingers tightening against him. “Promise, pookie.”

The nickname he’d used to tease you all those years ago feels foreign from your lips, you’d always hated when he called you it, yet he can’t help the way it makes his lips quirk up. He chuckles, unable to resist the laughter bubbling in his chest.

Such a stupid nickname.

You laugh along with him, sniffling as the lighter air between the both of you settles comfortably.

“Four years and three months, by the way,” Satoru’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt as he holds you to him. The curious tilt of your head that’s oh so cute to him is enough for him to continue. “That’s when I fell for you.”

Your eyes widen at the realization you’ve both just confessed. Your heart races in your chest, battering at your bones like a caged animal. “Four years and three months…? What…?” You trail off, brow furrowed.

“We went bowling with Ieiri and Nanami. You and I versus the two of them.”

“I remember.”

“They were beating us until the last frame. You bowled a strike and ran back to hug me.”

The memory feels fresh in your mind as you recall how silly Satoru looked in those oversized bowling shoes. You’d all looked like clowns, but Satoru had playfully dressed the part too in an ugly over-patterned button-up, always the butt of all jokes as long as it meant making everyone smile.

In reality, it was always to make you smile. He never cared about the scoffs and playful banter from the rest of the group. He wanted nothing more than to hear your pretty laugh.

“That’s it?” You ask, mouth agape. You and Satoru have so many similar memories from many years prior, so why that one?

“Dunno. There was just something so endearing about you running into my arms over bowling. You looked so gorgeous.” Satoru pauses for a moment as he grins to himself, reliving the memory. “You were smiling like winning bowling was our greatest achievement, wearing those stupid bowling shoes and you had on ugly socks specifically for the occasion-”

“They were cute,” you pout. “They had snails on them.”

Satoru snickers. “The snails looked high, sweetheart.”

“No they didn’t!” You whine, although you can’t deny the heat in your cheeks as he relaxes with you, observing you with the fondness of someone who never lost sight of you, even when all seemed hopeless.

“Their eyes were literally red.”

“Nooooo,” you whine, jutting out your lower lip. Gojo’s eyes flicker down to your lip, returning to your eyes. “It was just a design choice,” you insist.

“A design choice that made them look high,” he snorts, rolling his eyes.

You laugh through the remnants of your sobs, running a hand over your face in an effort to wipe away what’s left of your tears. To your surprise, Satoru’s hand closes over yours, moving your hand away from your face as he softly wipes your tears away.

“You asked me why I was here,” you state as Satoru watches the movement of his thumb beneath your tearline, wiping the liquid from your lashes. “I think I’m here because it’s the only place that feels right.”

His face softens, and what’s left of his bitterness sputters away like a candle burning out. It leaves warmth in its wake that spreads through Satoru’s body. Although he thinks the pain will take time to heal, it’s not like the hole that you left when you shut him out, one that hollowed his very soul. Time will heal his wounds, he just hopes that this time around, you’ll let him in. Although you’ve both confessed, he knows you well and he can feel the way you’ve carefully barricaded your heart.

For now, he just hopes you can get some rest as he takes note of the heavy dark circles beneath your eyes.

His hands grip your waist, long thumbs settling beneath your breasts, brushing their undersides. You have no bra on, you’re in pajamas that Satoru’s seen a thousand times before. It’s clockwork, the way he shifts you until you’re settled comfortably on his lap while he leans back.

“Movie night?”

You nod, eyes widening hopefully, a familiar sparkle shining within them that warms Satoru’s heart.

He hates to see you cry. It brings him more pain than he could possibly have imagined, even after two years of bitter silence.

He uses his foot to pull the remote on the coffee table towards him without needing to move you off his lap, leaning you both forward before resting back. Your head rests comfortably on his bare chest, his arm circling your waist like it belongs there.

There’s no question of what you’ll be watching as he turns on your favorite Studio Ghibli movie. Not a single memory of you has been lost to him, each one fresh in his mind as though you never left.

He sets the remote down, reclining back on the couch with his feet up on the table. Your knees lean over his thighs, hands resting comfortably on his muscular arms that hold you flush to his skin. Settling comfortably, you do your best to focus on the movie and keep your thoughts from spiraling, although it isn’t so easy.

“I’m sorry, Toru.”

Satoru’s white lashes flutter as he hears your voice amid his near-slumber halfway through the movie. He blinks a few times to wake himself up, inhaling as he looks down at you. Your head still rests on his chest, eyes looking up expectantly at him.

“It’s okay,” he shrugs blearily.

“No, it’s not. It never will be. I’m not asking you to tell me what I did was okay,” you insist. Satoru observes you quietly. You’ve matured over the last two years in ways he’s never considered. “You don’t have to forgive me right now, but I’d like a chance to earn your forgiveness.”

In truth, Satoru thinks you might have had his forgiveness since the moment he saw you standing at the door. The depths of his pain are already long forgotten as his sorrows wash away to leave space for blossoms taking root in his veins.

He’s not one for caution. Satoru has always been the type of man to dive headfirst into something without a second thought, that’s how the two of you ended up in this situation anyways. A joking suggestion on his part taken entirely too seriously to land him the official ‘fuck buddy’ status.

This time, as he dives headfirst into your request, it’s not a joke or a dare or anything of the sort that he’s so used to.

You’re taking this seriously. You’re taking him seriously. Taking into account his feelings of being a second choice, a rebound, and you’ll spend a lifetime showing him he never was to begin with if you have to.

He shoots you a tired smile, head flopping to the side in a lazy fashion. His white hair falls over his eyes, obstructing your view of his gorgeous cerulean irises. “Consider your wish granted,” he agrees.

You return his smile, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, unaware that you’ve soothed him almost instantly to an easy sleep as his gentle snores fill the air.

Despite the events of the long night and the early morning light beginning to peek through the windows as dawn approaches, you settle into an easy sleep in his arms.

When you awaken the following morning, the two of you have somehow shifted to be on the couch horizontally. You’re tucked between the back of the couch and Satoru’s chest, his arms wrapped protectively around your middle. His breath fans the crown of your head, his grip on you almost suffocating, he's holding you so tightly.

You don’t dare wake him, not after the night he had. Settling back comfortably against his chest, you rest your eyes as you wait for him to stir. It isn’t too much longer before you feel his muscles begin to twitch and the pace of his breathing increases. After a few minutes, his eyes flutter open and he takes in his surroundings, but more importantly, the gorgeous girl in his arms.

It’s a dream he’s had so many times that it can’t be real, can it?

“Ow! Did you just pinch me, Toru?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles groggily in a voice so incredibly sexy you can’t believe you didn’t notice your feelings sooner. “Had to make sure you were real.”

He shifts, moving to pepper kisses over your hair. Your giggles are musical as he showers you in affection, but when he pulls back, he catches a glimpse of… something that he can’t place.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?”

Your worries are forgotten momentarily with each pet name he uses, but you find your words soon enough. “I guess I just feel guilty,” you admit with a shrug and Satoru sees it again. He sees the walls you’ve built reflected in your eyes, shadowed with guilt.

“Eh? Nothing to feel guilty about,” he grins, but the look you shoot him in return tells him you’re not in the mood for him to take this so lightheartedly.

“I’m serious. I missed two years of your life.”

Satoru’s thumb rubs circles beneath the fabric of your pajama shirt with one hand, bringing the other up to rub his eyes. He’s not sure he’s awake enough for this conversation. Certainly not in a serious capacity.

“It’s not that long,” he shrugs, moving his free arm beneath his head as he shifts on the couch to lay on his back with you tucked into his side. He stares up at the ceiling. “I mean, you owe me a lot of movie and game nights, but that just means I get to make you pay,” he smirks, prodding your side.

It’s not the serious response you’re hoping for, but it does wonders to quell the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You better go easy on me though, you’re not a cheap date.”

He pouts playfully, lip jutting out as he prods your side beneath your ribs. You squeal in surprise at his finger jabbing into your side and in an effort to escape the ticklish sensation, proceed to shove him off the couch.

With a thump and a soft ‘oof’, he lands on his side on the (thankfully) carpeted floor.

“Sorry, Toru!” You squeak, peering down at him.

He rubs his shoulder with a wry smile. “Geez babe, I thought you were trying to make things up to me,” he grumbles as he pushes himself up off the floor.

You flash him an apologetic smile, taking a moment to admire him as he stands at his full height before you. He’s always been handsome, but even in the couple of years since you’ve seen him, he’s filled out and bulked up further. There’s a faint hint of barely visible white stubble growing along his chin and his hair is a breadth longer than you remember and falls in a more intentional manner over his head rather than its usual disheveled style.

He’s breathtaking, and you wonder how you were ever so foolish to begin with.

Unfortunately, he’s also just as frustrating as the day you last saw him.

“See something you like? You know, if you really wanna make it up to me-”

You cut him off by getting to your feet and shoving a hand against his stupidly pretty face, shutting him up with the action as he reels backwards. Catching his balance, he chuckles and trails after you as you walk into his kitchen just as you had so many times before.

Aside from a few new magnets on the fridge and a new set of dishcloths, it’s just as you remember it. Something about the knowledge that even in two years, things haven’t changed so dramatically that you’ve missed everything helps to keep you from feeling guilty.

“You know, I was gonna say if you wanted to make it up to me you could make me breakfast,” he grins cheekily as he leans into your personal space.

“No you weren’t.”

“I thought about it,” he shrugs as you catch him in the act of lying. You can’t resist the way your lips quirk up into a smile. He’s still so Satoru and his presence comforts you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

Opening the fridge, you take a look at what he’s got available, or more like the complete and utter lack of food in his fridge.

“Have you always lived like this?” You ask as you move to his pantry, which is somehow equally empty apart from a jar of peanut butter sitting beside some protein powder and a sickening amount of sweets.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He whines as he stares over your shoulder at what looks like a perfectly full pantry to him. It has mochi and chocolate and-

“What do you even have for breakfast usually?”

He purses his lips, staring up at the ceiling. His hair falls back over his ears as he does so, his skin so perfect you’re almost jealous at just how blessed he is with good looks. “Dunno. Mochi and some eggs?”

You recoil at the thought of mochi and eggs as a meal, nose wrinkling. “What happened to pancakes or omelets? We used to make them all the time.”

Something akin to sadness flashes in his eyes and you turn your full attention to him. “You weren’t there,” he says simply, his voice lowered, his tone unusually vulnerable. “I only really made them because you wanted them.” He doesn’t say it with the intent of making you feel guilty, but your shoulders fall to your sides as your chest coils with the emotion.

“Right.”

“Hey,” he raises his hand to cup your cheek and pull your attention away from your feet. “That’s behind us, yeah?”

Your eyes flit between his, the way they seem to hold galaxies within them. His face is so close to yours that his breath fans your face and your heart speeds up as you glance at his lips-

Like a gentle reminder of your wrongdoing, guilt churns in your chest and you stumble backwards out of his grip. Although he’s already forgiven you and given you another chance with him, you can’t help the way your heart stutters around him and your walls heighten out of fear of fucking things up again.

Yet your behavior only serves to confuse Satoru, who had been so sure you were about to kiss him and his heart is still hammering in his chest as you nearly trip over a flat of outdated soup cans, which is wild because how do soup cans even get outdated?

Before you can crash into the shelves behind you, Satoru reaches out to wrap a strong hand around your forearm and tugs you from the pantry.

“Um-” you clear your throat, trying to divert his attention away from your sudden meekness. “Can we order something?”

Satoru observes you for a moment, his expression unreadable before his usual grin finds his face. “Sure, pretty. You want your usual?”

Your eyes widen slightly, the guilt burrowing itself deeper into your chest as you realize just how many pieces of you remained tightly wound within his life all these years. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

He saunters off to his bedroom to grab his phone and place an order, your eyes trailing after him until he’s out of sight. With a sigh, you bring a hand up to clutch at the shirt hanging over your chest with a photo of a little cartoon kitty on it. Your heart hammers against your hand and you wonder what you’ve done to deserve such kindness from him when you had left him behind so easily.

Well, no, that’s a lie. It hadn’t been easy. It left a hole so deep within you that it tore you from a two year relationship and brought you here to Satoru’s door in the middle of the night in pieces. It was selfish, really, to ask him to help put you back together, and seeing how eager he is to have you back in his life does little to quell the growing feeling of wrongfulness.

With a deep breath, you try to remind yourself of the fact that he’s giving you another chance and you need to use this opportunity to prove yourself rather than shut him out again. Letting the breath out through pursed lips, you pad slowly from the kitchen to the living room, looking around the familiar room in daylight.

The TV is newer than you remember and there are a couple of mostly dead plants that you wonder if he’s ever watered that are new to you. A couple of empty mugs sit atop a table to the side of the couch and there are some new movies and games stacked in the bookshelves at the side of the room.

Before you even realize you’re moving, you stand in front of the shelves. Sitting on one of the lower shelves beneath a thick layer of dust is a small bowl you recognize all too well.

Satoru hadn’t been too keen on the idea of taking a pottery class with you, but he couldn’t resist your doe-eyed pleading. He always was weak for you, and so you had learned how to make bowls together. He had beamed at you upon completing his bowl, showing it to you with such childlike glee that it had warmed your heart.

Taking the bowl delicately into your hands, you flip it and feel your heart clench as you see the familiar initials carved into the bottom. Yours, alongside Satoru’s, with a heart. How had it never occurred to you?

How horribly clueless had you been?

You set the bowl down as your gaze trails the rest of the shelves. There’s a small collection of rocks from each of your beach trips, a strange tradition you had shared after finding a fossil lodged into a flat stone you’d been intending to skip across the water.

Finally, you stare at the empty spot where a framed photo of the two of you once sat. Although the photo was gone, you would never forget the day. You had visited the aquarium together with Suguru and Shoko very shortly after becoming friends with benefits. Suguru had noted that the two of you seemed particularly close, but you’d brushed off his words.

He was right, though. It solidified your friendship. It was the beginning of something beautiful and you regretted ever letting it turn ugly. Blinking, you bring a hand up to your face to wipe away the beginnings of tears when you catch a glimpse of something laying on the top shelf where the frame was just barely in view.

Reaching out, you pick it up and your jaw practically drops, your heart gripped with so many emotions you don’t know where to begin. Relief, longing, fear, uncertainty, guilt, and most importantly, love. Satoru never let go of you.

There, in your hands, is a photo of Satoru grinning with an arm around your shoulders as you peer up at the whale shark behind you, wide-eyed with awe at the beautiful creature. The photo never moved, he’d just laid it down when it became too painful to look at.

“Alright, I ordered all of our favorites and some new things I wanted to try-” Satoru comes around the corner from his room, phone in hand, peering into the kitchen before he finds you in the living room. “They had something called a Croffle, I just had to- are you crying?”

Satoru’s hand falls to his side as he hears you sniffle. You straighten, refusing to face him as you attempt to compose yourself.

He takes a step towards you, setting a large hand on your shoulder as he peers down at your hands. “Oh, pretty girl. C’mere,” he coos, pulling the frame from your fingers with one hand as he wraps the other around you. He sets the photo back in its place on the shelf, upright now, before his full attention is on you.

He sways you softly from side to side, soothing his hand up and down your back as he tucks your head beneath his chin. Your cries are silent, the only sign of your sobs being the way your body shakes and the warm tears that wet his bare chest. He stands with you like that, swaying you gently from side to side and humming gentle “it’s okay”s into the crown of your head for a couple of minutes.

With a sniffle, you pull back and wipe the remnants of your tears, keeping your head down in an attempt to prevent him from seeing your puffy features. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me,” you croak with a half-hearted laugh.

Satoru is silent for a moment as he quietly observes you. “You know,” he starts, “if you keep shutting me out, you’re not gonna be able to make things up to me.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” you retort stubbornly, peeking up at him.

He dramatically swings his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You show up at my door at- what-? Three in the morning? To try to fix things- which is working, by the way- and now you shut me out?” He asks, reeling back and crouching until he reaches your eye level. You can’t escape those stupidly gorgeous eyes of his now, taking in a deep breath as you attempt to compose yourself.

You pull your lower lip between your teeth, mindlessly chewing on it as you consider what he said. You’d be foolish not to take his words into consideration given that he’s right, you are here to fix things, and the fact that he said it’s working sparks hope you haven’t felt in a long time within you. Yet, you’ve upheld your walls for so long that it’s difficult to let him in. Years of rules between the both of you, no kissing, no cuddling outside of aftercare, no PDA, they all still lived within you, even if you wanted to break them down. Sure, the rules were broken often, but not without reminding yourself why they were there later.

Then there were the walls you built to protect the Gojo-shaped hole in your heart. The hole that you couldn’t identify the shape of until now. With Satoru standing alongside you attempting to crawl his way into that hole and fill it, it scares you. Having what you didn’t know you needed for two whole years, if not more, is a terrifying thought.

You glance up at him, patiently waiting on your response as you consider his words while his thumbs rub soothing circles into your upper arms.

With your attention now on him, Satoru takes the opportunity to slide one hand down to your waist, taking a small step towards you until you’re flush to him. You hold your breath at the contact, giving him a wide-eyed stare. His words replay over and over in your mind as his other hand slides up your neck to rest on your cheek. He deftly tilts your chin up as his eyes bore into yours.

“Let me in, sweetheart,” he whispers, his face so close that your entire body feels as though it’s on fire and you can’t help the way your eyes flicker to his lips, so soft and close.

The air between you is charged, tension crackling in the air as the world seems to pause just for you. Your heart beats erratically and you fear it may escape its cage if it pounds any harder.

Satoru swallows hard as his thumb runs across your lower lip. Your breathing speeds up, as though it’s racing with your heart as you cling desperately to his chest like a deer in the headlights. His heart races beneath your fingertips, the only sign that he’s anywhere near as flustered as you are.

“Can I break rule number one?” He whispers, his voice low and sexy in a way that you’ve heard so many times but it’s charged with something new. Something more tender than you’re used to.

You glance between his eyes and his lips, letting out a shaky breath as you throw caution to the wind and slide your hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him the remaining distance down to your lips. Time stands still as his lips softly capture yours, moving slowly as he pours every ounce of adoration into the kiss. As though he fears he may never have the chance to kiss you again, he puts everything he has into it.

It takes only a faint brush of his finger along your chin to tilt your head up to give him better access as his tongue crests your lips. You’re pliant against him, your lips parting for him as he breaks down your walls. His tongue takes over your mouth, his minty taste flooding your senses as his fingers grip your waist almost bruisingly with how tight he holds you.

He hesitates as he pulls back, both of your eyes fluttering open to take in the sights before you as you catch your breath. Satoru’s cheeks are red, white lashes fluttering as he blinks quickly.

“Why did you never say anything?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“You had so many rules. You’d scold me for just putting a hand on your shoulder in public, what was I supposed to do?” He examines the way your expression returns to guilt, pressing a quick peck to your lips once more in an attempt to pull you away from the walls he’s trying to break down. Your eyes shine once again and he lets out a breath of relief. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.”

He kisses you softly again. “Stop apologizing. Just be with me here and now, we can figure everything out, yeah?”

As you nod, there’s a knock at the door and Satoru grins.

“Now come try this Croffle thing I got.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” You tilt your head as you trail after him to the door.

“Croissant Waffle.”

“Right. Of course,” you shrug playfully, heading back to the living room where Satoru sets the delivery bag on the coffee table. The two of you had always had a habit of eating anywhere but the kitchen table and it seemed that wasn’t about to change now.

As he pulls out your favorite order of pancakes alongside his own, you shoot him a lopsided smile at the fact that he remembered every single little detail of your order, right down to the specifics of no whipped cream as it was too sweet. He always insisted it was perfectly sweet, but maybe that’s just because of how saccharine Satoru himself is.

“Okay, I got a sweet and a savory one,” he beams, holding up what you can only assume is the Croffles. They seem to be just croissant shaped waffles, though you assume the dough is likely flaky.

“There’s no world where you eat the savory one, so just give me that one,” you chide with a roll of your eyes.

“Ouch,” he pouts, “I’m an adult, you know. I can eat it.”

“Satoru Gojo,” you get his attention and his back straightens as though he’s in trouble with you. “Look me dead in the eye and tell me you would eat your pancakes and a savory Croffle.”

The way he avoids your gaze tells you everything you need to know and you burst into laughter, followed shortly after by his own. You snatch the savory Croffle from his hands as the two of you share your favorite breakfast once again. It doesn’t surprise either of you to find the Croffle is also delicious and you may need to change your orders. Then again, everything from this restaurant is delicious.

“I missed this,” Satoru hums as he adjusts the way he’s sitting on the floor, leaning on his elbow over the short coffee table.

“Me too,” you hum, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you set your breakfast down to stare at it.

“Ah-!” Gojo blurts out a noise and just as you look up at him, he’s tackling you to the floor, pressing short and chaste kisses to your lips followed by your nose, your cheeks, your chin, and your forehead. He peppers them across your face as you squirm beneath him, laughing as he refuses to relent.

“Toru! Toru, stop!” You whine through giggles, pushing against his chest.

“Nope! Not until you stop trying to shut me out,” he insists, his hair draping around your face like a curtain as he holds himself just above you, pressing more chaste kisses to your face and lips. In an effort to stop his relentless attack, you pull him down and deepen one of his kisses. He hums contentedly into your lips, letting you lead.

You move slowly at first, cherishing the gentle feeling of his soft lips, but the way he treats you as though you’re porcelain causes something to coil in your stomach and you greedily pull him down harder, deepening the kiss as his lips part. Your tongue explores his mouth, the taste of sugar and syrup fresh on his lips but it’s the way he whines that sets your stomach on fire with need.

You part from him, the evidence of your lust now wet in your panties as you stare at him with blown pupils. He recognizes the look on your face and tugs you to your feet in one fluid motion. Like every other time you’ve done this dance, you figure you’ll end up in his arms, making out as he stumbles to his bedroom and tosses you on the bed, but to your surprise, he instead scoops you into his arms bridal style.

You yelp in surprise, snaking your arms around his neck as you cling to him. “Toru?” You question as you peer curiously up at him. He shoots you a genuine smile, filled with glee.

“Lemme treat you like a princess for once,” he grins. Your face softens and you bury your face into his chest. Who would have thought your eager fuck buddy would be such a romantic sweetheart?

He sets you gently on his bed before sitting beside you, the bed sinking beneath his weight. To your delight, he pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. Leaning back towards him, you capture his lips in an eager but passionate kiss and it seems the dissolving of your rules has changed the way it feels being with him.

Where once you kept kissing always off the table, the addition of it changed the entire tone of being in his bedroom. Where once you would eagerly fuck like rabbits, using the act purely as a way to relieve stress and have some fun, now it feels like a union of years’ worth of emotions. The way Satoru holds you as though he’s afraid the moment is fleeting, the way he puts his soul into the kiss just as you do, it’s a moment you know will play in your mind like a movie years into the future.

Satoru moans needily into your mouth as you let your hands roam, exploring the peaks and valleys of his abs. He’s grown bulkier since you last saw him, clearly continuing to work out. When your eyes flicker open as you catch your breath, his eyes are locked on you with a look of wonder that’s entirely too sweet given just how badly you want to see him between your thighs.

You set your hands on his collarbones, pressing him down onto his bed. You’ve had sex more times than you can possibly count, but everything about this still feels new. Satoru has always been fairly dominant, but the man looking up at you now is needy with lust and willing to relinquish all control to you. He’s looking at you like you hold the sun up in the sky and he wants to worship you for it. His gaze holds such adoration that you could melt into him.

You grind against the growing bulge in his sweatpants as you lean down and hungrily capture his lips, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth. He whines into your lips, sliding his large palms along the length of your curves. He tugs your pajama shirt over your head, breaking the kiss only to toss it aside before he pulls you back to him.

Parting from the kiss to catch your breath, you trail the tips of your fingers down his broad chest, past his chiseled abdomen, until your featherlight touch reaches the waist of his sweatpants. His cock noticeably jumps beneath you and oh how Satoru yearns to submit wholly to you, to be yours and let you do anything you wish to him.

Satoru’s pupils are blown with desire, his jaw slightly ajar as he stares at the swell of your breasts, admiring the way you look on top of him, so pretty. You smirk at his reaction to a simple drag of your fingers along his skin, wondering what else you can elicit from him now that you have him laid out beneath you.

Now that you’ve tested the waters, you cup Gojo’s face gently as you press a kiss to his lips before sitting up on your knees to shimmy out of your shorts and panties. Satoru thinks he may actually be seeing stars when your fingers card through his hair and you sit on his face. You sharply inhale when he moans at the taste of your pussy, at being used by you and the way his lips vibrate from the guttural noise sends white hot lust straight to your core.

“Shit, Toru-” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he laps at your entrance, pressing chaste kisses to your clit that have you whimpering as you rock your hips forward with need. The additional pressure you place on him that restricts his breathing subtly sends him into a haze of pure lust as he tightens his grip on your thighs and plunges his tongue between your folds.

As you pant and fist his hair harder, Satoru’s tongue delves deeper until he’s tongue-fucking you so well you’re seeing stars. “T-Toru- hah- don’t stop,” you pant, legs trembling as he eats you so expertly you’d think he’s a professional. With how many times he’s eaten you out, he may as well be. He still knows exactly what you like as he nudges your clit with his nose, sending sparks through your body like only he knows how to.

Grinding harder against his tongue, Satoru relishes in the sounds of your pleasured pants and moans mixing with the obscene squelching of his practiced tongue as your gummy walls pulse around him. He can tell you’re close by the way you grip him, the way you tug his hair and subtly restrict his breathing between your thighs in an effort to chase your high.

Your stomach tightens and twists as you hurtle closer to the edge and you lean forward, eyes locking with the definition of an angel beneath you. “Look at me, Toru,” you pant between pleasured mewls. One look from those lust-blown eyes sends you over the edge and you collapse forward as your body trembles and shakes.

With languid licks up your folds, Satoru draws out every last drop of your orgasm, eagerly drinking up every last bit until you weakly push his head back into the mattress out of overstimulation. His lips are parted as he pants weakly in an effort to catch his breath.

“Tastes so good,” Satoru moans from beneath you. You take the opportunity to push yourself back up and slide down his torso somewhat to look at him, shooting him a lopsided smile. He grins back at you, slick dripping down his chin.

“You’re still so good with your tongue,” you whisper in a sultry voice. He swallows hard, his abs noticeably tensing beneath your thighs as his cock jumps. All these years and you had absolutely no idea Satoru got off so much on praise. “Such a good boy,” you purr, testing just what sets him off.

Immediately, his fingers tighten bruisingly on your thighs and he whimpers. “Please, baby. I need you.”

Your lips curl into a devious smirk as you slide down his body until you’re on your knees at the base of the bed. Satoru sits with his legs thrown over the edge and a look of pure eager desire as he watches the way you slowly leave a trail of kisses up his thighs.

There’s a noticeable wet spot on his gray sweatpants from where his cock is steadily leaking with pre-cum and you tease the spot with a kitten lick and a glance up at him. Satoru whines, relieved when you tug his sweatpants down to the floor, his blue boxers following shortly after. His cock springs to attention, the tip swollen and leaking for you.

Just as he thinks you’ll bring him relief, you duck your head down to kiss a trail up his inner thighs once more. Satoru mewls, babbling out a needy “please- please, sweetheart, please,” as he attempts to direct your lips to his jerking cock.

The sound of his begging is intoxicating but you want to drag out the pleasure for you both. “Let me take care of you, Toru,” you hum, pulling away when he attempts to move his hand to your hair. He lets out a broken groan as his hand goes back to the bed, gripping the blankets beneath with enough force to turn his knuckles white. “Good boy,” you purr.

Satoru’s breath hitches, pre-cum leaking from his cock as it jumps again, aching for your touch. Sparing him of your teasing, you finally swirl your tongue over his swollen tip. He lets out a tortured groan, his abs contracting with the effort of not immediately cumming onto your lips, so needy for you that he’s not sure he can last.

“Sh- Shit,” he whispers, watching intently as you lick a stripe up his length so slowly that he mewls. The amount of time he’s spent fantasizing about this moment is shameful, really, and now that it’s here, he’s sent into a frenzy. His thighs are twitching, abdomen clenching with the effort of not blowing his load immediately.

“Tell me what you want, Toru,” you whisper, your breath ghosting warm over his leaky tip.

“Need you, baby, need your lips on me so bad, please pleasepleaseplease-” he babbles out, swallowing his broken moan when you teasingly kiss his tip, chasing after his desperate reactions. Pleased with his begging, you take his cock between your lips, sinking down slowly over him as you take him to the hilt.

His cock nestles into the back of your throat as you choke on his length. Bobbing your head as you set a slow pace, Satoru’s brain turns to mush as pleasure courses through his body. You take him so well and he’s already careening dangerously close to the edge of an orgasm, abs clenching as he throws his head back when your pace picks up. What sends him over the edge is the feeling of your little hum when you take him down to the hilt again.

His hand reaches out to hold you steady as a broken cry leaves his lips when his orgasm comes crashing over him suddenly, cock pulsing as he paints your throat with his arousal. You swallow it with a hum that makes his whole body jolt. He gently pulls your lips from his cock, leaning back on his hands as he comes down from his climax.

A chaste kiss left on his cock makes him shiver. Glassy eyes meet yours, pleasure swirling within the barely visible blues of them. “Such a tease,” he murmurs before pushing himself up the bed and flopping down on his back.

He smirks at you as you slide back on top of him, your wet cunt grinding over his hardened length. “So fuckin’ gorgeous,” he groans, warm hands coming to rest on your hips. Rocking your hips back and forth as you chase the friction you so desperately crave, Satoru throws his head back. “Fuuuuuck, pretty. So fuckin’ good.”

You lean down to kiss him, slowing your ministrations as you capture his lips in a heated kiss laced with your own desperation. His tongue eagerly explores your mouth again, the taste of him fresh on your lips. Every second of you on top of him sends him into a spiral of glossy-eyed pleasure that he hopes he can bask in for the rest of his life.

When you pull back suddenly, he whines, sitting up on his elbows to watch your movements as you slide down the bed with a predatory gaze. His lashes flutter as you intently watch his reaction while you spit on his swollen cock head. His jaw hangs slightly open and he groans when you use your thumb to spread the saliva down his shaft.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans unevenly between shallow breaths. His length jerks as you slowly pump your hand, so slowly it’s painful. “Baby, ne-need you,” he babbles, bucking his hips to chase the friction of your hand.

You grin, kissing his tip. “Yeah, Toru?” You purr, reveling in the way he turns to putty in your hand. “Think you’ve been a good boy for me?”

“Mhm. Wanna cum inside you,” he pants, raking his hands through your hair.

Your breath hitches as you crawl back up his body and position yourself over his twitching length. You don’t have the strength to tease him anymore, more for your own sake than his.

“Please,” he begs once more, leaking pre-cum as he waits to feel your walls squeeze him. No matter how many times you’ve had sex, this is entirely different. This is full of a new kind of desperation, full of a new kind of adoration as you grip Satoru’s shoulders tightly while sinking down on his cock slowly. Satoru’s long thickness makes you moan as you break past the first ring of resistance.

Your pussy is heaven for Satoru, a moment he’s dreamt of so long he has half a mind to pinch himself to make sure this isn’t the world’s most vivid wet dream, but he’s entirely too fucked out to manage a sane thought.

“So tight, love,” Satoru moans, his grip bruising on your hips. Every bone in his body begs him to fuck up into you, desperate to feel your gummy walls milk him. 

You hold still for a moment as you adjust to his length, whimpering at the feeling of his cock twitching within you. As the pain of the stretch turns to pleasure, you begin to rock your hips slowly, leaning back on his cock as it brushes your g spot and bliss floods your body.

Suddenly snapping, Satoru grips you tightly as he matches your rhythm and rocks his hips in tandem with yours. Every stroke of his cock within you pushes you both closer to the edge and as your nails rake his chest, you can hardly manage a coherent sentence.

“Toru- so big-” you moan, your pussy fluttering on his length as he needily whines along with your words.

“Shit, not gonna last long baby, I’m-” he watches your heavenly expression as you whimper and babble through your own words, both glassy-eyed and fucked out. He can tell you aren’t far behind him in spite of how teasing you’ve been all night, increasing the pace that he rolls his hips at until he feels your cunt pulse and your orgasm hits you like a wave.

You hunch over on him, your pace slowing to a halt. Your body trembles with the strength of your climax and your walls milk Satoru’s orgasm from him at the same time. “Fuck- nngh- feelsogood-!” He slows his rhythm as he works wave after wave of both climaxes out, chest panting from the overwhelming feeling of reaching such a high with you.

The sounds of your breaths fill the room as blood roars in your ears. After a moment of catching your breath, your eyes flutter open to find Satoru already staring up at you. His eyes are glazed in pleasure, but the look of pure adoration is what makes your heart flip. If your cheeks weren’t already flushed, you’re certain the look he’s giving you would have that effect.

“Toru?” You breathe, staring down at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers as his breathing begins to steady. You can’t help the grin that spreads over your features as you giggle at the man beneath you. Both of you so clearly spent in the afterglow of sex, and he’s being entirely too cute with his cock still nestled deep within you.

Sucking a breath through your teeth, you push yourself off of him, flopping down on the bed at his side as his slick drips from your folds and paints your thighs.

Comfortable silence settles between you both as you bask in the moment. Sparrows sing outside the window and the faint sound of distant traffic breaks through what’s otherwise a silent room. Your mind wanders to every moment in the past where Satoru shot you a longing gaze, where his words implied more than just friends. To each moment where you had brushed him off, assuming he was just pushing your buttons because that’s just how he is.

Now, each one of those moments held a different, new meaning. You turn your head to take in the sight of Satoru. He looks angelic in the morning light with his hair slightly disheveled, skin warmed by the sunlight peeking through the blinds.

“Where do we go from here?” You ask suddenly, pulling his attention to you.

Cerulean irises take in the sight of you just as you had done for him. It takes him a moment to reply, admiring your features and committing your face to memory as though he might lose you if he utters the wrong words. “As long as you’re by my side, I’ll go anywhere.”

“Satoru that’s… Cheesy and not what I meant,” you giggle. “But I’d love to start with a date. I know it won’t begin to make it up to you, but-”

“Sweetheart. Stop,” Satoru leans up on an elbow, kissing you so softly you would assume he thinks you’re glass. “I forgive you. I forgave you the moment I saw your pretty face last night.”

“Toru, please, let me make it up to you-”

“I forgive you. I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you. Okay? Stop worrying.” He peppers kisses over your face amid playful giggles as he speaks, eyes warm with mirth.

“Let me take you out, then. Just- Let me do something, at least,” you insist.

“Yeah, gonna plan something, baby?” Satoru smirks, pressing a kiss to your collar. You nod eagerly. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

Sitting up, Satoru shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. Quietly, you admire the musculature of his back and arms, smiling to yourself. You have to consider yourself lucky that you have this chance at all, grateful you didn’t miss your opportunity with the angelic man.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Satoru hums as he bounds to his feet. In spite of his own tiredness, there’s a pep in his step that makes you grin.

“Satoru?” You call after him before he can disappear, sitting up on the bed. He pokes his head back around the corner, giving you his full attention. “Since we’re doing everything out of order anyways, uh-” you hesitate for a moment, not because you doubt what you’re about to say, but because you don’t want to scare him off. “I love you.” Although it’s an admission you made last night as well, without the tension of the prior night it holds a new meaning.

His expression softens but his eyes seem to glow as he grins. Giddily, he quickly makes his way back to your side and kisses you with all the passion in the world. “I love you too, you gorgeous, wonderful, maybe a bit sticky girl.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Did you have to mention the sticky part?”

Bounding back over to the ensuite door, he hums affirmatively. “Yeah, if you keep calling me back and don’t let me clean you up.”

And with that, he disappears to grab a warm cloth as you stare with a smile at the place where he just stood. You sigh to yourself at how goofy Satoru has remained over the years, always the butt of the joke and the life of the party.

Now you think he just might be the light of your life too.

masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist

𓉸 a/n ; i don't know what happened this was meant to be like. 3k words of pure smut. but here we are so i hope you enjoyed! ♡ writing sub!gojo was a CHALLENGE for me it's not my usual thing so i hope i did it justice. as always likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated :))

𓉸 taglist ; currently open. please comment here or on the masterlist to be tagged in the rest of my kinktober work ♡ @tojis-ball-sack @rathreads @sukunadckrider @nxcxllxsevens @r0ckst4rjk

[kamospeach]

plot: yuji spends the day with unckuna and his favorite girl

content warning: lil smut to start off, mating press, more smut at the end, doggy, breeding, cum eating, choking

peachy's yap: wc 2k .ᐟ i love anything revolving around sukuna being a uncle to yuji. might do one where yuji is older ! kinda short because it's basically a crack fic.

mornings were the best time for sukuna to get a nut off. you laid next to him naked doing nothing in particular. but it was just enough for his dick to get rock hard and leak precum. he would nudge your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"you up?" he asked pulling your eyelid up and looking at you and you sighed.

"i am now ryo..." you said with an annoyed tone and he smirked pulling the covers up.

"look how hard i am baby... can i just slip it in. i promise to be gentle," he asked and you were a sucker for sukuna asking politely. even if you did know it was a lie and 10 minutes later he'd be pounding into you. your knees on the sides of your head as his thick cock pounded into you.

"ryo y...you said you'd be gentle," you whined and sukuna hummed in your ear. you attempted to slow his thrust by pushing his thigh. but you stopped nothing as sukuna was relentlessly bullying your poor pussy.

"i can't help it ma, you look so good when you wake up," he grunted close to finishing. his dirty words pushed you closer and closer to your climax. "shit i feel you, i feel you cum on my dick." he moaned feeling your walls clench around him letting him know you were close. he made one last exaggerated thrust and you whined as you came.

"nghh ryooo~," you yelped as sukuna's phone rang. he stilled inside you as you looked at the clock and he checked his phone. it was 8 am... you both looked back at each other realization hitting you both. you agreed to babysit yuji today.

next thing you knew the doorbell rang back to back either jin being childish or yuji eager to see his uncle kuna. sukuna quickly pulled out of you, although frustrated he had to keep his promise. even if he did want a nut he loved yuji way more than his pleasure. you came so that means both people he loved would be satisfied.

you stood up slipped on a bra and panties grabbing appropriate clothing. after you slipped on sukuna's sweatshirt you ran downstairs. you wanted to say hi to jin as well so you put a little pep in your step. the two brothers sat on the couch as yuji sat on the floor wheeling his car. hearing your footsteps yuji was the first to notice your presence.

"teetee!" he yelled running to you and you picked him up playfully kissing all over his face.

"hello my baby." you smiled walking over to sukuna and his brother. sukuna gave you a nasty side eye as you played with yuji. the three of you engaged in conversation until it was time for jin to leave.

"uncle kuna, what are we doing today?" yuji asked sitting on your lap.

"for one you can get off my girlfriend," he said and yuji tilted his head to the side not exactly sure who he was talking about.

"whoo?" he said turning his head to look up at you "my teetee is your girlfriend?" he asked genuinely confused it looked like his poor head was spinning.

"you didn't know that yuji?" you asked and she shook his head. "well... anyways i was thinking we could go to the amusement park."

"yes! i want to ride the alligator ride!" yuji screamed jumping off your lap and running to grab his backpack. "i kept telling daddy but he kept telling me to wait."

"cause your uncle kuna wanted to take you." you laugh looking at sukuna whose face turned pink as he looked away.

"don't tell the brat that he'll be asking to go again," he complained knowing if yuji asked to go anywhere sukuna would take him. that's just the type of person sukuna was, he loved but not outwardly. he definitely thought he was slick.

"uncle kuna can i have a churro," he asked struggling to put on his human earthworm backpack and you helped him. (y'all weren't leaving for another hour and a half)

and just like he asked yuji ran through the park with a churro. his leash only letting him go so far as sukuna held it tightly. you looked at the two laughing at the way he gripped the handle.

"you did not need to get a leash." you shook your head and sukuna side eyed you. turning his chin up at you like a snooty mother.

"don't you see the way he's running off? you think i didn't need a leash?" he scoffed as yuji ran trying to pull sukuna behind him. "plus it's an alligator leash." he smiled at you, his canines showing which made you feel some type of way. you had to shake your head to rid your brain of the nasty thoughts.

"whatever." you waved him off as you both pulled up to the alligator ride yuji was so desperate to ride.

"i'm not riding this shit... it's childish." sukuna scoffed and you frowned not liking his attitude.

"it's not childish." you defended and sukuna didn't agree with you not one bit. "oh i get it now... you don't want to ride it because you're scared." you said in fake realization and sukuna looked at you in bewilderment.

"me? scared of a kid's ride? never. matter of fact i'll prove it." he said as you made it to the front and you all got in sitting with each other. sukuna had his arms crossed the entire time as the workers locked the seats.

"you're leaving in 3...2...1! have a good ride!" the attendant yelled as the alligator-shaped ride zoomed off. the ride went up an incline to which sukuna rolled his eyes and called it puny. arms still crossed as the ride hit the drop. you and yuji screamed as the thrill rushed through you.

unexpectedly the ride hit a sharp turn and sukuna grabbed the handlebars. out of nowhere, the ride went completely sideways and sukuna yelled.

"what the fuckkk!" he yelled as the ride stayed sideways for a while. the ride continued speeding off and sukuna yelled again. "what kind of kid's ride does this!"

"sukuna shut up!" you said as the ride finished and you stopped in the station. he was embarrassing you with his loud screaming.

"no this is a fucking death trap!" he yelled as the seats unlocked and grabbed yuji. he was acting like a mom who complained about everything. "we're never coming back here!" he yelled carrying yuji over his shoulder. yuji lifted his head and waved at the workers at the ride.

"bye!" he smiled happily not understanding what his uncle did.

"sukuna you cussed around all those kids," you whispered and sukuna snorted.

"you think i care when they almost killed my nephew," he said still holding yuji over his shoulder and storming off from the ride. yuji just rode on sukuna loving that he was upside down. while sukuna yelled about suing the park yuji had his arms out feet kicking as he pretended to be a superhero.

you were embarrassed that sukuna was making a scene because the ride scared him. yuji had fun and that's all that mattered but he swore up and down they tried to 'kill his nephew'. after some convincing sukuna finally shut up, and the three of you sat at a table eating. yuji licking at an ice cream cone while sukuna ate his chicken strips.

"they're not the best they're just alright," he grumbled his actions telling a different story as he quickly took down the chicken.

"iths okay uncle kuna because my ice cream is yummy!" yuji smiled with ice cream all around his mouth. you grabbed a napkin wiping his face as sukuna sent a deadpanned look to yuji.

"thanks, yuj' that makes me feel so much better knowing your food is good and mine isn't," he said sarcasm evident in his voice. but of course, yuji didn't notice.

"you're welcome uncle!" he giggled going back to attacking his ice cream. sukuna looked at you as you laughed with your hand covering your mouth.

"how's your food?" he asked you and you nodded enjoying your meal.

"i like mine." you smiled and he nodded staring at you.

"that's good," he mumbled resting his cheek on his palm. his eyes looked around the park now and then but they mainly stayed on you and yuji.

you guys stayed at the park for another 3 hours. sukuna finally found the fun in the rollercoasters and you all had a good time. you carried yuji out of the park and he was knocked out on your shoulder.

"he's not too heavy, is he? i could always carry him," he asked and you shook your head with a smile.

"no, he's not that heavy, did you have fun?" you asked laughing knowing the first part of your trip was iffy. surprisingly sukuna nodded his head smiling and looking at you.

"yeah, it was my first time at an amusement park." he laughed and you gasped looking at him.

"that's why you were so scared! you've never been on a roller coaster before." you pointed at him and he scoffed.

"i wasn't scared." he waved you off opening the door for you to put yuji in his car seat. you buckled him in as sukuna walked around you to open your door.

"you definitely were scared but it's okay," you said getting in the car and sukuna closed the door. when he got in the car he gave you a look that you supposed meant he disagreed with your statement. "it's okay really... you're still my big strong boyfriend."

"hell yeah i am." he scoffed nodding his head with now newfound confidence. he smiled to himself as he drove to jin's house to drop off yuji.

sukuna wouldn't tell you but spending time with you and yuji healed his inner child. whenever you all had a good time it made him feel like he was back in his childhood or his lack of one. and that's why whenever he got the chance to spend time with yuji he would.

and you? when you both got home he needed to finish where he left off of course. this time he had your face pressed into the mattress and both hands wrapped around your neck.

he was thrusting with no mercy, he was playing catch up trying to get his nut from this morning that he missed. you had already came 3 times in the last 30 minutes and sukuna had only came once.

"shit baby." he groaned as you gained the stamina to throw your ass back on him. "yeahhh like that," he said stalling his thrust and letting you do your thing.

"can't..." you mumbled into the bed and sukuna laughed.

"yes you can ma you got it." he encouraged you lightly smacking your ass cheek and you fastened your pace making sukuna smile. "that's it..." he laughed at your hips stuttering before he began to thrust into you again. your body fell limp but sukuna helped you keep your arch.

"m'cumming again ryo..." you moaned into the mattress and he never once acknowledged your words. just continuing to pound into like it was the only thing he knew. before you knew it you were cumming around sukuna's cock walls clenching while his thrust stilled. he came in you filling your hole up with his cum.

"fuck..." he panted his chest falling up and down. he let go of your neck holding himself up while his dick was still inside of you. after you caught your breath he pulled out of you. you felt his fingers slid along your folds making your body jerk from being overstimulated. "turn around."

"mmm," you whined flipping over you saw sukuna's cum on his fingers. immediately knowing what he wanted to do you opened your mouth. his fingers went into your mouth and you licked them clean.

"good girl." he smiled at you patting your cheek. as the two of you took your shower he thought about how satisfied he was with his day. he got to fuck you this morning and he got to spend time with yuji. then he got to fuck you again and spend another night with you.

[sarushka-01]

a thought. everyone agrees that sunday’s wings express his emotions more than he’d want to, just like tails of animals (or dragons… staring at dan heng il)

so imagine, sunday boarding the astral express, to see the universe in a new light, to have a fresh perspective on things, to try and change the way he views himself. he lets himself loose a little, his body less stiff as he lets his guard down around the crew (that is, including you). he doesn’t try to smile all the time, doesn’t try to control his body as much as he did in the past, his halo glowing more or less depending on his mood and his wings… twitching from time to time. as the head of the oak family, he had to be composed at all times and never let his facade slip. but now, as just another traveler wondering through the cosmos, he’s free of all the responsibilities. as he grew accustomed to this new life the astral express has offered him, you began to notice tiny changes in his behaviour. those were details, really, but you couldn’t help yourself but smile whenever you looked at him. he seemed more alive, now that he was out of his cage. his eyes look liked two shining suns, instead of cold gold, smile less forced, steps unsure, but more free. and your favourite part; his wings. they would always flutter when he laughed, and you prayed to akivili that he’d never learn about this, only so you could see that sight more often. sometimes, when talking to someone (especially you), that same thing would happen again. and you had to try your best not to crack a laugh, because how could he be so adorable without even realising that? it felt like you were staring at a very cute dog wagging its tail whenever you approached it. another detail you almost missed - his sweet tooth. whenever pom-pom said something about desserts, a spark would ignite in the halovian’s eyes, barely noticeable. every time he’d get a taste of that sweetness he so seemed to love, he’d look like a giddy child. the way he smiled, you just wanted to grab him and kiss his lips. how could someone be so cute and unaware of that charm?

[pearlessance]

Beneath the Armor —part two

[part one]

summary: Joel figures out a way to win you over after your heated argument. Things slowly change, for the better. You carefully work at chipping away Joel's walls, not allowing yourself to leave him behind. It was easy falling for him.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI. ANGST with a happy ending, grief, mention of child loss, daddy issues, age difference, slow burn, seduction, use of alcohol, and references to alcohol abuse, brat taming, smut, daddy kink, rough oral, face sitting, p in v, degradation, hair pulling, dom/sub undertones, creampie, begging, overstimulation

wc: 12.1k

note: part two as promised!! cowritten with @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend who's now on both tumblr and AO3! please make sure to go follow her for more delicious, mouth watering joel fics just like this one <3

Your junker, piece of shit car worked well enough to drive you a couple of hours out of town for the evening. You weren’t even sure where you were going, but you needed to be somewhere that wasn’t the suffocating town you’d been trapped in for years.

The sun was setting by the time you’d finally pulled over, stopping when your body took you to your unexpected destination. It was the state park your mom would take you to when you were just a child, probably around Sarah’s age. From where your car was parked, you could see the sun's bright rays moving down past the mountainous hills, saying goodbye to you.

It would’ve been a lot easier for you if your life had been simpler. A loving mom and dad who actually enjoyed being around each other. Instead, they’d both abandoned you, leaving you behind to make hard decisions for yourself. 

A couple of moments later, a pack of cigarettes was fished out from your glove compartment, and a sole smoke found its home between your trembling lips. You lit it, the fire from the lighter brightening your face against the dark contrast of the setting sky around you. With a deep, shaky inhale, you felt the back of your head hit against the car seat headrest. 

You couldn’t keep going like this. Being stuck in this town, living a repetitive life was slowly killing you. Your friends had left town; hell, even your mom had escaped. When would it be your turn? Would you stay until you became a shell of yourself, like Joel?

The ash of the cigarette in your hand followed the speed of the sunset, slowly burning, burning, burning, until finally, it was gone. All that was left was the darkness of the night and the cigarette butt in your hand. 

The smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the car when you wake from an unexpected slumber a handful of hours later. You figured that the combination of watching the nightfall and the intoxication of the nicotine lulled you to sleep. When you started your car, you saw it was a quarter past midnight. Jesus.

You sighed, grateful that some park ranger hadn’t walked up to your parked car and seen you passed out with a fully smoked cigarette between your fingers. Your hazy eyes watched the clock briefly, considering if you should get a hotel, drive back home, or just sleep the rest of the night in your car. 

With not being able to spare much money for a room and not wanting to risk being murdered in the middle of the state park, you chose the latter. Truthfully, you didn’t want to go back home. It was never truly a home for you, but more of a transient place—an in-between.

The windows being rolled down and punk music blasting through the radio kept you from falling asleep behind the wheel. By the time you made it home, you only wanted to crawl into your bed, despite the hunger gnawing at your insides. 

But, of course, Joel was sitting on your front porch. Your headlights washed over him, showing you just how tired he looked. It was almost three in the morning, for Christ's sake. You weren’t sure that you had another fight in you. 

You didn’t even acknowledge him when you got out of your car and slammed it behind you, moving your body around him in an attempt to unlock your front door. The intensity of his stare was almost physical, and you nearly made it inside before Joel’s hand prevented you from opening the door.

“Stop,” Joel said, letting his hand fall away from yours as if he was scared to touch you for too long.

“Why are you even here right now?” you spat at him, guard high. His tone was still cold, and his shoulders were somehow even more rigid than when you left. “I don’t want to argue anymore tonight, Joel. Please, just—”

“Where were you?”  His jaw feathered.

As muddied as your dynamic has become, you knew you were not required to tell him anything. He wasn’t responsible for you. And, frankly, his cruelty should serve as a wake-up call. As much as you ached for him and wanted his attention, you knew that if you folded here and did what he wanted, you’d end up stuck in this place forever. Never progressing, forever in limbo.

Insecurity and abandonment issues be damned, you knew you deserved better than this place.

You took a wavering breath, trying to clear the emotion from your voice as you spoke. “I needed to get away. Please move.”

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. “By yourself. In that piece of shit car,” he stated sharply. “In the middle of the fucking night. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Yeah, Joel, I know how to fucking read.”

“Smart enough to read but not smart enough to realize how stupid and dangerous that is?” He scoffed. “How many times a week do the cops show up here for this reason or the other? How many missing posters are hung up in the park office, plastered with faces of girls that look an awful lot like you? An’ you just go wanderin’ around by yourself in the middle of the night when you know the kinda people that live around here.”

“What, people like you?” It was a low blow, and you knew it. And even though regret slithered through your gut as you watched disbelief flash in his eyes, you stood firm. “You…I was trying to help you, Joel. And I admit I might have crossed a line, but I didn’t deserve all those insults. And I don’t deserve them now, either. So get the fuck out of my way.”

You tried for the door again, but he stepped completely in front of it this time.

“Joel—!”

“Wait. Just…just wait.” He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. He started to speak and stopped several times. You knew he was trying to apologize, trying to find the words to smooth this over. 

But you weren’t helping him this time. It wasn’t your job to save him, just as he said. So you offered nothing in response because that’s what he wants from you, isn’t it?

And then the words came pouring out of him like a long-held sigh. “I lied before. An’ I shouldn’t have. I was angry. I don’t…I haven’t even opened the door since…I didn’t expect to see anyone in her room. Let alone you, who I…” 

He stopped again. Your heart raced. 

Your words were breathless. A whisper in the dark as you urged, “Who you what, Joel?”

“You…you mean somethin’ to me. An’ I shouldn’t have said all that earlier. I didn’t mean it. Not a fuckin’ word. But I…you…you terrify me. The world is a dangerous place for girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Yeah, girls like you who see someone like me and don't cross to the other side of the street. Instead, you—” he paused, eyes downcast, suddenly interested in the crack in the wooden step beneath his feet. “You bring me dinner,” he continued with a disbelieving laugh. “An’ you ask me all these questions about my no-good life. Questions that you want to hear the answers for, like you’re really tryin’ to know me. An’ you look at me like…like there’s somethin’ worth lookin’ at.”

Your heart momentarily broke for him. It made sense that someone so angry was secretly just insecure. He was so scared of being loved, of losing someone he loved, that he’d instead soak in his own misery. 

“And if somethin’ were to happen to you, somethin’ preventable, I couldn’t live with it.” He scratched lightly at the scruff along his jaw. 

When you spoke this time, the words held less malice but remained resolute. “I know you see what’s happening here. It’s clear as day, isn’t it? I’m a young girl with no daddy to look out for her. And you’re someone’s daddy without a daughter.”

His eyes snapped to yours, filled with an unsaid warning that you didn’t heed. “It ain’t like that,” he insisted, but the lie bled right through his teeth.

“It’s not what it’s like; it’s what it is, Joel. And, you know, maybe you’re right. Maybe I am pathetic, wanting so badly for you to comfort me, to fill that hole my dad left behind. But at least I’m not denying any of it. At least I’m man enough to admit that I want it, that I want you, even if it’s in a fucked up way.”

Joel shook his head. “I can’t…I can’t be that for you. I’m not your daddy.”

“And I’m not Sarah.”

You watched as he flinched at the sound of her name, a visceral reaction that seemed to steal the breath from his lungs. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Don’t.”

Even knowing you shouldn’t, you closed the tiny space between you. So close you could feel his breath as it fanned over your lips. “You like to put on this front, like to think you can handle this on your own, that you don’t need anyone or anything. But I can see beneath all that, Joel Miller.”

That same venom from earlier made its grand return to his words. “Oh, and you know just what I need. S’that it? Think you’ve got me all figured out. Think you’ve got all the fucking answers.”

You nodded, determined. “You’re not as complex as you think. You’re just as scared to be alone as I am.”

Joel didn’t like that. You knew he didn’t want to be called out on his shit, but you didn’t have the energy to care anymore. It was too early in the morning to give a shit. 

His jaw was clenched so tight that you could see a muscle flex in his jaw, and if you weren’t so angry, you might’ve noticed the pang of attraction in your gut. 

“Fine.”

Then, he finally turned and walked away. His boots crunched against the gravel driveway as he stalked towards his home without a backward glance. He didn’t storm off or run away. He just left, his back straight and determined.

You hated that you watched him, unable to tear your eyes away until he entered his house. You were just grateful that you could finally lay your head on your pillow, instantly climbing into your bed when Joel left your peripheral vision. 

And even though he wasn’t there physically, he still haunted your dreams. Endless patterns of fighting and a brutal tug-of-war with Joel kept you from a soundless sleep. When you woke the next morning, it was in a hot sweat, with the hair on the back of your neck sticking to your clammy skin. 

The cold shower you prayed would wash away your woes did little to comfort you. By the time you were dressed in only shorts and a tank top, smoking a cigarette in your bedroom, you felt just as shitty as you did the night before.

The warm summer breeze moved through your bedroom from the open window, almost mocking you. That feeling of driving with Joel and having the wind pass between your fingers was returning with a vengeance. 

What right did Joel have to come into your life? To shake it up, to make you crave him and his affection. Why couldn’t you have chosen someone less fucked up, someone less confusing?

And almost on cue, you heard a heavy knock at your front door, and you knew it was him. By this point, you had absolutely had it. Why wouldn't he leave you alone if he didn’t want you? 

“What now?” you scowled when you yanked the door open, unsurprised to see Joel there, holding what appeared to be a book. Looking into his face showed you that all of his bark was gone; instead, his eyes were soft and almost apologetic. There was a faint crease between his eyebrows, his gaze heavy with an unspoken guilt. 

He glanced away for a second, looking back at his house as if he was looking for an escape plan if things didn’t go how he wanted. 

“Can I come in?” 

Joel’s voice was quiet, rough around the edges, almost like he had to force himself to speak. 

You took a moment to consider it. Did you want to keep this going? Could you handle any more arguments? Your eyes moved to look at the book in his hands, and through his long fingers, you could see the outline of a Polaroid photo tucked into a clear sleeve on the cover. 

“Please,” Joel all but begged, stepping a bit closer to you before quickly moving back, unsure if he had the right to shorten the space between the two of you. “I know it’s been a lot, but please, just let me try to explain. It’s hard for me… stuff like this. Feelings.”

The tone Joel was taking with you and the unspoken apology hanging in the air made you hesitate even more. His breath shuddered as he exhaled, clearly trying to discover a way to convince you that he meant what he was saying.

“I messed up.” Joel’s voice was calloused, raw, as if he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. “I’m sorry. Can I please come in?”

It was almost embarrassing that a simple ‘I’m sorry’ was enough to break you, but words like that coming from Joel made forgiveness all the easier. Joel was an uphill battle, but finally, you felt like you had won.

“Okay. But if you shout, or yell, or make me feel like shit, then you can leave the way you came in.”

His nod was stiff but confident. “No yelling. No making you feel like shit. I just wanna talk.”

It felt weird having Joel in your space. Your home was a stark contrast to his: neat and organized, with many decorative touches throughout, including books, odd paintings you’d rescued from the thrift store, and an unhealthy amount of foliage. 

You’d found a hobby of taking in half-dead plants, making it a challenge to yourself to prevent them from succumbing entirely. Ironic. 

Watching Joel’s towering figure sit down on your couch almost made you smile. It felt right for him to be there, in a weird, bizarre way.

“Cute place.”

And even though he was slowly working on making you forgive him, you wouldn’t lie down that easily. You only hummed a thanks in response before sitting beside him, the couch sinking under your combined weight. 

“So,” you began, gesturing to the photo album tucked in his hands. “What do you want to talk about?”

By God, you could feel Joel’s hesitation, the fear that he felt himself in allowing you to see his vulnerable side. But you wouldn’t baby him like you had been doing. If this was something he wanted, he had to decide on his own.

“I do like spendin’ time with you,” he admitted, surprising you with his bluntness. “More than you’ll ever know. But I meant what I said last night. I can’t give you what you want. This can’t be more than what it already is. A friendship.”

Both of you knew that was bullshit. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he hadn’t considered something more with you, you knew that if you wanted to get anywhere with him, you’d have to agree to his terms. You did enjoy the time you spent with him when it wasn’t full of bickering and whatever the hell else. He took care of you, cared about you. If those were his terms, then so be it.

For now.

“Okay.”

He nodded, sighing a breath of relief at your agreement. “Okay, then.”

Joel’s hands moved to open the photo album, his knees turning to bump into your own. From the first page, you knew that this was going to be incredibly challenging to sit through with him.

Sarah was held in Joel’s strong arms when she was a baby. He looked so young and full of life and promise, and he had tears in his eyes. 

“Remember rushin’ to the hospital since her momma’s water broke early. I was on a job site with my brother, with one of the most important clients we’d had at the time. It didn’t matter, not when I knew that Sarah was there, waitin’ for me.” 

His finger traced along the page, stopping when he felt you moving closer to his side. 

“She’s beautiful, Joel,” you whispered. He’d never been so open with you. Talking to him felt like calming down a wild animal, but you wanted him to know that you were there for him, despite what he believed he deserved.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “the most beautiful little girl I’d ever seen.”

He continued to flip through the book, filling in some of the gaps between the photos with stories. It seemed almost therapeutic for him to go through the pictures and relive what it was like when Sarah was still alive.

One photo in particular stood out to you because up until then, you’d only really seen either Joel, Tommy, or Sarah.

A woman with long blond hair sat with a baby Sarah between her legs, a thin smile across her lips. 

“Who’s that?” 

The second Joel glanced over to see what picture you’d pointed out, you could tell you hit a sore spot.

“Sarah’s momma,” he answered simply before flipping to the next page. You didn’t want to press him anymore about it, understanding that he was already putting himself in a vulnerable position. Somehow, you could still feel a frustration brewing in him the longer time passed on, until he finally let it out. 

“The cancer was genetic. Her momma had it when she was a kid, too, but beat it. When Sarah got diagnosed, she said she couldn’t be around all of that again, and she upped and left us one night. To think, it was her genes, her fault for it all, but she couldn’t even get the nerve to stick it out with us.”

You were stunned. Unable to speak, unable to form an ‘I’m sorry’ right back to him. He’d been through so much, and it made sense why things were so hard for him, especially now. 

“Would’ve tossed out that picture a long time ago if Sarah wasn’t in it. I don’t have many photos left of her, so I don’t wanna risk throwing anything away, even if it does bring back shit memories,” he explained to you. 

Despite how difficult you knew this was for him, reliving all these painful memories, it warmed your heart to realize that he had opened up and shared this part of himself, all for you.

And while he might not have been able to admit the root of your strange attachment to one another, he’d given you what he could. He had been trying so hard to mend the rift between you without opening a new wound within himself.

You laid your head on his shoulder, and at first, he stiffened. But then he relaxed even deeper into the couch cushions and sighed deeply.

The two of you sat there just like that for the rest of the night. Close enough to touch, but a friendly boundary drawn between you. Joel showed you every picture in the photo album and told you the stories behind each one. And even after you hear each tale tied to each picture, he continued to speak about her.

There was a sad smile on his face while he did, but you didn’t comment on it. You just asked questions about her, all the things you’ve ever wondered, and laughed when he told you about the art phase she’d gone through and how she’d painted a mural on the wall of the spare room at Tommy’s house that still existed today.

He told you about his brother, too. About how they’d been thick as thieves their whole lives. He explained how he’d pretty much raised Tommy from the day he was born. He’d never once minded it because his brother had always been his best friend. Their mom had always been off working this odd job or the other, working tirelessly as a single parent to provide for two rowdy young boys.

When you had asked about their dad, Joel shrugged and said simply, “Never met him.”

You thought maybe having an absent father of his own was why Joel was so quick to protect, to provide. It would be second nature for him to take care of someone. First Tommy, and then Sarah, and now…well. Now, you.

He and Tommy started their business together right out of high school, and it flourished immediately.

It had been Tommy’s idea to go corporate. And while Joel had hated the idea of it at first, he was thankful when Sarah got sick. Because selling his part of Miller Bros Construction back to Tommy had given Sarah an extra couple of months of treatment.

He told you everything and was patient each time you asked for clarification. Joel’s voice was soothing, low and deep, vibrating through his chest. It was not until late that night that he decided to go back home, and you knew you’d promised to keep things friendly, but you found yourself lingering in the door frame, trying desperately to find a reason for him to stay just a little longer.

“Thank you for opening up to me,” you say. “I know it’s not easy, but it means a lot; I hope you know that.”

“It’s the least I could do. After everything I said to you…” He shook his head, jaw feathered.

You reached out and placed your hand against his bicep. “It’s okay, Joel. Really. All’s forgiven, okay? I promise.”

He nodded in understanding, but you could still see the guilt that lingered on his face. It’ll take more time for him to forgive himself, you knew. But you made a silent promise to be patient with him, to do what you could to help him through it.

You said goodnight, but before he was entirely off the front porch steps, you said, “Wait, Joel?”

“Yeah, baby?”

The word stopped your heart dead in your chest.

He said it so casually you thought it must be an accident, an unintentional slip of the tongue. But he made no effort to take it back, to correct himself. And you thought that if he were ever going to repeat it, the best course of action would be to keep yourself from teasing him about it. 

So, you just smiled so hard your cheeks hurt and asked, “Can you give me a ride to work tomorrow?”

“Course. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Resuming your routine is easy, but this time, it was better. Deeper. He started to bring you a travel mug of coffee each morning and insisted it was only fair, considering you brought him dinner every night. And you can’t complain, and certainly not when you realize that Joel Miller made the best coffee known to man.

He talked more and made an effort to get to know you. He asked about your favorite songs, and the following week, you noticed a few new CDs in his collection. He ordered pizza every Friday night and got mushrooms on half when you told him it’s your favorite topping.

You asked him to take you grocery shopping on one of your off days. It was the first time you went out together, and though you got a couple of curious eyes from the townspeople, Joel didn’t seem to mind it at all. He followed you around the store, pushing the shopping cart while you tossed things into it and typed prices into the calculator app on your phone.

In passing, you said, “We really should start eating better. Less burgers, a couple more vegetables.”

“I haven’t really cooked much since…” He didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he was trying to say. And it saddened you so much to know he hasn’t cooked a hot meal for himself since the passing of his daughter, and so you made an offer.

“Alright, I’ll cook then. Dinner at your place. Do you have olive oil?”

He didn’t, so you added that to the cart, too. And you spent an hour that night in his kitchen, moving around as if it belonged to you, washing dishes while you waited for the chicken breast to sear in the pan.

Joel offered to help several different times, but you shooed him from the kitchen. You wanted to surprise him, to do something nice for him. He deserved it, to feel cared for the way he cared for everyone else.

When you finished, you set the plates on the small, round table in the kitchen. There were only two chairs, and it had been abandoned as far as you could tell, apart from the occasional pieces of mail that sometimes lived on it.

He hesitated for just a second when he noticed. Only then did you realize the last time he had sat at the kitchen table to eat a meal was likely with Sarah. So you said, “We can go to the couch if you want. Watch a movie or something. I just thought that-”

“It’s fine,” he insisted before he sat in one of the chairs. “It looks great.”

Even though you only made chicken and potatoes, he acted like it was the best meal he’d ever had. Between each bite, he showered you with compliments, and you glowed at the praise. He thanked you a hundred times, and the energy was easy and good.

So much so that you made dinner the following night, too. And the one after that, and the one after that…until it became just another part of your routine.

You always watched something together after, be it a new movie he picked up from the rental place downtown or a rerun comedy episode on TV. And it wasn’t uncommon that you’d fall asleep on his couch and wake up the following day with the scratchy wool blanket draped over you and a pillow from his bedroom beneath your head. 

You were fairly certain the only time Joel ever slept in his bed was on those nights that you fell asleep on his couch. You’d wanted to ask him why that was but discovered it one night on your own. 

Small grunts woke you from your peaceful slumber, one of your eyes cracking open to scan the room. You wiped a bit of drool away with the back of your hand before shifting to sit up, wondering what it was that woke you up. The TV was off, and the trailer park was dead silent; the only light came from the kitchen oven hood.

Then, you heard it, a slight, almost guttural whine coming from Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you decided to get up, pulling your blanket along to investigate what was wrong.

The bright LED from Joel’s clock lit his silhouette, and from what you could tell, he was sleeping soundly. You could feel the old linoleum creaking beneath your feet as you approached his side of the bed. Joel’s even breathing suddenly changed into that strikingly different whine, and when you moved closer, you could see the faint tears that were streaming down his face. 

You couldn’t leave Joel alone, crying in his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wake him. Instead, you did the next best thing, climbing into the bed beside him. Your movements were slow and calculated, and by the time you were positioned awkwardly next to him, it took all of your strength not to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

Joel’s body hardly moved, but you could feel the quiet sobs escaping him. How often did he sleep like this? Alone and hurting? Did he even realize that all of his pain was slowly eating away at him? 

It was becoming impossible to resist comforting him, so you did what you did best. You helped.

Your arm slipped through the space above his hip, spooning this massive man, hoping your presence could help calm him down. To your surprise, it did, and not before long, his cries subsided. 

Falling asleep with your body wrapped around Joel was a truly humbling experience. All of this time, you thought you suffered from insomnia, but all you needed in the end was Joel’s back pressed against your chest. No dreams, no nightmares… nothing. You hadn’t slept so well in years.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking, something that made you tremendously happy. You could slowly see Joel take care of himself more, cooking meals that held sustenance rather than opting for something he could throw into the microwave. He could cook too, despite how humble he acted about it, occasionally cooking you breakfast on the mornings you’d slept over.

“Morning,” you chirped to Joel as you stepped out of his bedroom, basically bouncing on your heels to greet him. 

“Yeah. Morning.” His returning greeting was far less blithe. “Made coffee,” he said, nodding to the still-steaming mug that sat on the table. 

You sat and pulled your legs up to your chest, letting the hot mug thaw your cold fingers. Joel flitted around the kitchen, moved this thing or that, and turned the bacon searing in the pan on the stove too many times. It didn’t take you long to conclude that he was nervous. “Joel?”

He sighed as if hearing his name in your mouth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He turned to face you fully, his spine pressed against the edge of the countertop. Through the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, he said, “You can’t be doin’ things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like crawling into my bed in the dead of night.” The words were firm, but he couldn’t seem to control that telling smile.

You couldn’t help but mirror it, because his words may say one thing, but you knew he was thinking another. “But you were having a nightmare. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Leave me be,” he said, his arms crossed over his chest. “Close the damn door.”

“So…you’re telling me you don't like waking up next to me? That you didn’t sleep better than you have in years?”

“Now, hang on—don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth—”

“So you did like it.” Your smile grew impossibly wider, and your cheeks ached. 

“I didn’t say that, either,” he insisted. A rosy hue crawled up his neck, reaching as far as the tips of his ears. “What I’m sayin’ is that it ain’t right. You’re so…so young. And good. Shouldn’t be in an old man’s bed. Definitely not one like me.”

You laughed. “God, Joel. You’re acting like we fucked or something.”

His embarrassment was palpable. A living, breathing thing you could sense immediately. He turned away from you, busying himself as he pulled out two plates.

You knew you shouldn’t, but it was just so easy to rile him up. Through your soft giggles, you said, “I’m just messing with you.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head as he sat a plate in front of you and took his spot on the other side of the table. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “Real funny.”

It should have been the end of it. You should have respected the words he’d plucked up the courage to say. You should have kept your distance. 

But the next time you woke up on his couch in the middle of the night, it wasn’t him who had the nightmare. 

Your eyes were watery, and your fingers trembled as you crawled beneath his sheets and wrapped your arms around him. You pressed your face into the curve between his shoulder blades and inhaled the scent of him—pine, smoke, and Joel. It grounded you, knowing he was close, breathing him in.

He stirred in his sleep and then stiffened. You half expected him to push you away, to keep true to his words. But then you sniffled, and his muscles went slack. He took your hand in his and pulled it up to his face. He pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles, and with a sleep-muddled voice, he promised, “I got you. S’alright.”

The nightmare didn’t return. And the next morning, he didn’t say a word. He just served breakfast and put a little extra sugar in your coffee.

And, soon, it became just another part of your routine—one more thing to add to the ever-growing list. You never went to bed together, as if that small thing altered the truth of it. But, eventually, your time on the couch dwindled to less than fifteen minutes each night. It was as if you could feel his absence when he left your space, even in your unconscious state.

Often, Joel wasn’t even fully asleep when you slipped in beside him. His voice was groggy as he turned and wrapped you up in his big, strong arms and said, “Someone oughta teach you how to listen, girl.”

You just laid your head in the crook of his neck, which you suspected may have been made with you in mind. “Shh. I’m tired.”

One morning, you wake up slowly on a day when neither of you has any responsibilities. The sun shined through the worn lace curtains he’d likely had since the nineties. They cast intricate shadows across the pale blue fabric of his t-shirt.

Joel slept soundly, and his soft snores filled the room. You shifted closer to him and slid your hand beneath his shirt. It wasn’t until you laid your leg across his lap that you realized he was hard in his boxers, cock twitching beneath your thigh.

Your breath came fast, labored. Your desire for him hit you like a freight train, blinding you. You needed him so badly you thought you might die without it. And you knew what he’d say. You knew he’d find a reason to deny how you make him feel, insecurities eating up his yearning.

But you’d be a fool not to try, right? You have to try.

And so you peppered light kisses along his throat, tasting the salt on his skin. You felt so safe in his arms that you never wanted to leave. When you said his name, it came out as a whine, taking the form of a desperate plea. “Joel.”

You shifted your thigh slowly, pressing gently against his cock that steadily came to life as the seconds ticked by.

Your mouth found his jaw, kisses growing needier. “Joel,” you said again. And this time, he heard you, still half asleep as he tried to pry his eyes open.

His hand came up to stroke gently at your hair, so tender and affectionate that it made you ache. “Mornin’, baby.” 

That name again, sugary sweet in his mouth. You wanted to taste it, and so you did. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, slow and experimental. You were waiting for him to push you away.

Except he only pulled you closer, breathing out a sigh of relief that you inhaled like oxygen. He tasted like smoke, spice, and Joel. You scratched lightly at his side with the hand beneath his shirt, and his mouth opened to let out a groan. 

You took the opportunity as it came, slipping your tongue against his, drinking him in. You shifted your hips against him, his thigh pressed against your center so perfectly.

It’s only then, as the slight friction made his cock twitch, that Joel pulled away. “Sorry about that,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for…sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can help you,” you told him.

Joel let his head fall back against the pillows. There was an amused smile on his face as he scoffed in disbelief. “Fuckin’ crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “Got no business…Christ. Gonna be the death of me, little girl.”

You pulled yourself up onto his lap, straddling him. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing softly. “Please, Joel,” you whimpered, kissing him again. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Can’t play these kinda games with you,” he explained. But he shifted his hips up to meet yours when you grind down against him anyway. And you knew then that he was just as needy as you were. “You’re too good for me.”

“But I want you so bad,” you explained. You knew you shouldn’t, you knew it, but the words slipped out anyway. “Please, daddy.”

His grip on your waist turned tight enough to bruise, and you could feel his cock as it throbbed painfully between your legs. “Fuck. Fuck.” Joel closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and said, “Baby, you’ve gotta go.”

“What?”

“I need…shit. I need you to go. ‘Fore I do somethin’ I can’t take back. Please.”

He didn’t look at you. He kept his eyes firmly sealed shut as if looking up at you would change everything, and you knew it likely would.

And even though it hurt just a little, that pang of rejection, familiar poison in your belly, you did as he asked. You left his room, gathered your things, and returned to your nearly abandoned home, which felt far too empty without Joel in it.

An hour later, he knocked at your door with his truck keys in hand. “There’s a new movie coming out in the theater tonight. Figured we could go grab lunch and see it.”

He didn’t mention the morning, and neither did you. But it was all you could think about each time you looked at him, and you thought he saw right through you because he wore a secret smile all day. 

A week later, he set his mind on fixing your car. And you didn’t complain one bit because you got to sit in one of his old camping chairs, sipping on too-sweet lemonade while you watched him grease up his hands beneath the Texas sun.

As the summer went on, you began to notice small changes in him. He smiled more and laughed a little easier. Made more of an effort to do things, though they were always with you. He offered to help Kathy mow the lawn when Parker was sick, and even she noticed the change in him.

“Whatever you’re doing to that man,” she told you. “Better keep it up.” It’s said with a tone of adoration, and you knew you’d likely be the new gossip of the trailer park, but you don’t even mind it.

Truthfully, you liked the idea of everyone associating the two of you together. You liked the idea of being his.

After one absolutely terrible shift at Dazzlers, you found Joel’s truck in the parking lot and ripped the door open. Before he even has a chance to say hello, you exclaimed, “I fucking hate this job. Stupid freak customers always trying to grab ass that doesn’t belong to them and-”

“Did someone touch you?” His voice was still. Calm as death. He put the truck in park. 

You would have thought it would warm your heart if you hadn’t been so angry and irritable. He wanted to defend you, protect you, no hesitation. You sighed and shook your head. “They tried. But no. I need a fucking cigarette.”

As you pulled yourself up into the passenger seat, Joel pulled a Marlboro from the pack and lit it. He placed it between your lips and watched with amusement on his face as you let the nicotine wash over you. And then he said, “Made you something.”

Your brows furrowed. “Made what?”

He presented to you a small chunk of wood that had been carved into the shape of a familiar-looking flower. “Marigold,” Joel said. “Was talkin’ to Kathy about her garden. Said she always plants marigolds every summer cause they’re supposed to symbolize sunshine and healing or somethin’ like that. Reminded me of you.”

It was intricate, less a carving and more a piece of art. “Jesus, Joel. This is beautiful. You made this?”

He shrugged it off as if it was nothing. “Always liked woodwork since I was a kid.”

The talent he had struck you like an arrow to the heart, reminding you of the truth you’ve always known: Joel didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong in a dead-end life with a beaten-down trailer and nothing ahead of him. He thought you were too good for him but failed to see how good of a man he truly was.

You threw your arms around him, pressed a kiss to his mouth with grinning lips, and made a silent promise to yourself. 

You were going to get out of here, and you’re dragging him with you.

“I fucking love you, Joel Miller,” you said, and mean it. He didn’t even flinch. As if it wasn’t the very first time you’d said it and it wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t say it back right away, but you hadn’t said it with any expectation. Yet, with your head on his chest late that night, he whispered into your hair, “I love you more, baby. Promise you that.”

You carried the marigold everywhere. It became your good luck charm, a protective talisman that made you feel safe no matter where you were.

And it’s the luck you needed late one night when you sat up in Joel’s bed, the laptop screen dimmed to near blankness, and you typed away at the keys as you applied to colleges all over Texas. You doubted any of them would take one look at your GPA and attendance and even consider you applicable, but it was worth a shot. It was worth trying.

On one particularly scorching July day, you sit on Joel’s couch in nothing but a red bikini top and a pair of cut-off denim shorts. He lounged beside you with a glass bottle of beer in hand, condensation making the label peel back beneath his fingers. The windows were open, and each rush of the wind felt like a gift from God.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is playing on Joel’s old junker TV, and even though he’s seen the movie a million times, he’s as infatuated with it as ever. At the same time, you’re sitting alongside him, bored and almost dying from the heat. 

“Why is it so hot?�� you grumbled, shifting in your seat. Joel hardly even bats an eye at your complaints, his large palm coming to pull your legs up and over his lap. 

“Texas summer, baby. You’ll be used to it when you’re old like me.”

Your lips pouted at his dismissiveness, knowing Joel couldn’t change the weather but still craving release. 

“Ughhh,” you groaned, stretching across Joel’s thighs. “I’m melting.”

Joel is still locked into the movie, his lips mouthing some of the lines before they’re even said. ‘Every gun makes its own tune.’ If he wasn’t so cute, you might’ve been upset with how easily the film was taking him away from you.

So, you formed a plan.

“I can’t take it anymore,” you complain, gauging to see how Joel responds. He only hums out what could be interpreted as his condolences, spurring you on further. 

It was risky with open windows and even riskier knowing Joel was terrified to go past kissing you. But you liked the challenge. You liked knowing that even though Joel's falling apart was out of your control, you could be there to help him trust again. You’d already proven to yourself that you could make him love again. That you could be loved. 

You were ready for the next step.

The strings tying your top together fell with one swift move of your fingers, and the sound of the material dropping finally made Joel’s head turn to you. The priceless look on his face almost caused you to laugh, eyes wide and shocked. Things felt mudded, like you were moving through water. 

“Oops.”

You’d never exposed yourself to him before, but there you were, chest bared for the world to see. His eyes drank you in before ripping away, an expression of combined embarrassment and nerves washing over him.

“Stop. Put it back on,” Joel commanded, reaching to snatch your bikini top, but you were faster than him. You slipped the top behind your back, sandwiched between the couch and your warm skin. 

Joel sighed, a strained, frustrated sort of growl underneath the exhalation. “Please, baby.”

If you were a kinder, sweeter soul, maybe you would’ve granted him mercy. But it had been months of craving Joel’s affection, attention, and touch. 

“Joel. Touch me. I promise it’ll be worth it,” you begged, extending your hands to grab his palms. You watched his large hands get closer and closer to the rising peaks of your breasts, a whine getting caught in your throat when his skin finally grazed you.

But as soon as it came, it was gone. He pulled his hands out of your grip, shaking his head furiously. “No. I just… fuck. I won’t let myself ruin you.”

You weren’t taking no for an answer. You moved yourself off of the couch, opting to go to the floor.

“Daddy,” you whispered, your bare knees pressed into the plush carpet that covered the floor. Your eyes blinked up at Joel, innocent yet begging, begging for his attention. Begging to be loved.

Joel’s jaw flexed, and you watched the way his fists clenched at his side. It was fucked up, you knew that, but you needed it just as much as you knew Joel needed it. 

“Don’t. I already told you that we’re not playin’ these games. It ain’t right,” Joel hissed through gritted teeth, watching you crawl across the rug and settle between his thighs. 

You moved slowly but deliberately, holding your hands behind your back while only using your face to tempt Joel. Without breaking eye contact, you rubbed your face against the meat of his thigh, sighing at the feeling of the denim. 

Joel’s hands were clenching the tops of the couch, white-knuckled and flexing. You weren’t sure if he wanted to fuck you or throttle you, but you were so close to getting what you wanted that you didn’t even care. 

“Let me make you feel good. You deserve to feel good, daddy,” you whimpered, pressing a wet kiss against the rising bulge in his pants. The growl that left Joel was feral, making your blood run cold. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself once he broke. He’s gonna ruin you.

“You needa’ go to therapy, you know that?” Joel huffed, but his words lacked any malice. His hips slightly lifted to follow the warmth of your lips, diminishing his attempted resistance.

You lapped at the tent in his denim pants, sucking and kissing until a wet spot formed. “Why go to therapy when I could be here, sucking your cock?”

Joel’s head tipped back on the couch, the shaking of his head making you smile. “You’ve got the dirtiest little mouth. Never had no daddy to teach you manners.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Teach me, please. I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want.”

The press of Joel’s clothed cock against your mouth seemed to be enough for Joel to relinquish some control. His head tipped back down to look at you, a long pause making you swallow nervously. He watched you, dark-eyed and mysterious, and just as you opened your mouth to speak, he reached down and slapped you.

It was a simple thing, light and stinging slightly. It sent a jolt straight between your legs, and Joel noticed the way you squirmed in between his legs. A look of both disbelief and excitement flashed across his face before he jerked you by your hair, wrapping it around his big palm.

“Gonna stuff your mouth full’a me. Teach you how to behave. That’s what you need, yeah?” Joel questioned, reaching down to grab your hands and forcing you to undo his jeans. The hand that still had your hair wrapped around it pushed your face down once you reached his boxers, feeling your moan of approval reverberate against his cock.

“Christ,” Joel grunted, impatiently reaching down to free his cock. “Can’t believe a girl your age wants me to fuck your pretty mouth. You need help, baby.”

You whimpered and nodded, perfectly content in agreeing with anything Joel said if it meant you’d get to taste his sees in the back of your throat.

“Open wide,” Joel commanded, slapping his cock against your bottom lip. You obeyed wordlessly, whimpering at the feeling of Joel’s dick slipping into your throat. Absentmindedly, your hand reached between your thighs, quickly finding your clit before eagerly rubbing circles into it. 

Joel’s hand left your hair and instead moved to embrace your cheek, both of his palms cradling your face. He guided you, meeting your mouth with the brutal snap of his hips, the bulbous tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Though it would’ve been a barbaric pace for anyone else, you enjoyed the feral feeling of being mouth fucked by Joel, a man double your age.

“You can take all of it, can’t you?” Joel growled, less a question and more of a statement. His hips drilled up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat while your fingers pressed rapid circles into the slippery mess between your legs. 

Each snap of Joel’s hips left your nose buried into the coarse hair that covered the base of his cock. He held you there; the sudden silence and lack of guttural noises coming from your throat revealed just how close you were. Wet, sloppy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs.

Your middle finger had slipped inside your weeping opening, while your pointer finger rubbed relentlessly against your clit. The dark look on his face when he noticed what you were doing to yourself was almost enough to send you over the edge. 

Tragically, you didn’t have an opportunity to reach your growing climax. Joel moved around your head, your lips still wrapped around his cock, to grab your arm and rip it away. 

“Think you can play with yourself right in front of me? If you’re comin’, it’s gonna be on my face, baby.”

The whimper that escaped you would’ve been embarrassing to you if you weren’t so fucking turned on. Being ripped away from Joel’s cock made it that much worse. Your body was aching, practically pulsing, for some form of relief. Joel didn’t make you wait long.

He moved around on the couch so he was stretched out on his back across the cushions, his dick standing tall and hard for you. 

“Come on. You know where I want you.”

And, momentarily, your eyes flit over to his length, questioning if he’d let you get away with slipping him inside, just for a moment. The look on his face told you otherwise.

“Don’t even think about it. We can mess around a little bit if that’ll get this out of your system, but not that. No… intercourse,” Joel sneered, the word almost robotic in his mouth. “Now get up here.”

Instead of pushing it, you decided to break him down the further it goes. Leave him wanting, unable to resist. He’d be begging by the time you were done. 

Your chest was rising and falling with anticipation, watching your thighs sink around Joel’s broad shoulders. His large arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you forward and not wasting any time.  The sounds of his wet tongue lapping at you made you whine under your breath.

He created slow, deliberate circles around your clit, moving your hips to follow the way he tasted you. 

Christ, you knew he was going to make the wait worth it. Joel was so experienced, somehow knowing exactly where you needed the pressure of his tongue against you. 

You wanted him to feel good, too, to crave the feeling of you that he’d no longer be able to hold back. When you flipped around on his shoulders so you’d be able to suck his cock, Joel couldn’t hide the groan that left him. 

He felt heavy in your palm as you jerked him off, following the pace of his tongue. Your mouth was watering, and you were unable to slow yourself down, letting the tip of his cock slip past your lips.

Joel groaned, rocking up into your mouth. It all felt so feral, the sounds of your combined slurpings mixing with the chirps of birds outside the living room window. Joel’s curtains were pulled, hiding the raw sight of your bodies rutting, searching for pleasure. The curtains did not, however, hide the sounds escaping from both you and Joel. 

As hard as you tried, it was impossible to stop the noises leaving your throat. The second that one of Joel’s hands left your hips and slipped inside of you, you were practically about to explode. 

You were so wet that two of his fingers slipped easily in and out, his fingers curling in a motion that had you whining around his dick.

All it took was one last thrust of his hips into your mouth for you to lose it, whimpering through a white-hot fire that burned throughout your body. He worked his fingers in and out, helping you during the last moments of your orgasm. Just as quickly as you came, he pulled you off of him, his breathing fanning against your bare pussy.

“Don’t wanna come yet,” Joel groaned into the skin of your thigh, slipping his fingers out of you. “Wanna enjoy this for as long as I can.”

Both of you caught your breaths for a second, but you knew you couldn’t let Joel cool off for too long; you needed him to surrender to what he’d been aching for. 

He hardly resisted letting you crawl down his body and straddle his hips, the wet mess between your legs soaking Joel’s cock. A look in his eye let you know that he still had some fight left in him, but you wouldn’t let him win.

“Come on, daddy,” you whispered, rubbing your pussy against Joel’s throbbing cock. “Just the tip. It doesn’t have to be anything more. I wanna feel you.”

You could feel him twitching against you, a guttural growl rising from his throat. “We shouldn’t, baby. Don’t deserve someone as sweet as you. Too damn perfect.”

Your eyes watered as you looked down on him, wishing he could see himself the way you see him. He was much too hard on himself.

The taste of yourself stained your lips when you kissed him, your tongue slipping into his mouth. You shifted your hips, catching the head of his dick on your clit. With a little more pressure and the twist of your thighs, he’d slip in.

“I love you, Joel. You can have me. I’m already yours,” you kissed his lips. It finally seemed like enough to break him. Your admittance triggered Joel, motivating him to push his hips up, smashing into your own. You sank onto him, gasping in surprise.

The tips of your nails dug deep into the skin of his tanned shoulders, probably with enough force to make him bleed, but Joel couldn’t care less. His jaw flexed, tension ripping through his face as he pushed his heels against the couch's cushion. His pace was brutal, relentless, but you accepted the savagery, lapping every last drop Joel gave you. 

“I love you,” you moaned again, your back arching and leaving everything on full display for Joel. His eyes ate you up, moving back and forth, mentally photographing your every inch like he was afraid you’d magically disappear from his arms. 

The leather couch groaned when Joel suddenly moved, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your hips into an embrace. Your mouths collided in a frenzy, bodies grinding and hands grasping desperately. You’d never felt so understood before, moaning in the way Joel touched you. His fingers slipped between your bodies and pressed precisely where you needed it the most. 

A fire burned deep inside you, a furious warning that you were approaching your peak. You didn’t want it to end. You’d finally been rewarded after working hard to break down Joel’s walls. 

“Stop,” you gasped against Joel’s mouth, “‘bout to come. Don’t want this to end.”

Your words did nothing to stop Joel from slowing down; as a matter of fact, you could’ve sworn he sped up. The skin of your thigh was beginning to stick to the leather because of how much you were sweating due to pure exertion. 

“It don’t gotta ever end, baby. I’m all yours, if you want me.”

A feeling grew deep in your gut, one that you would be scared of if you weren’t so in love with Joel. He had you, and you knew you would die before giving up on him. You’d drag him out of town with you if you had to.

A few more circles of his fingers and you were falling apart under his touch. Your body shuddered as a hot coil raced through you, making you fall limp in Joel’s lap. He groaned at the way your pussy was shuddering around him, squeezing him just right.

“I’m snipped. Didn’t wanna have any more kids, after. Let me fill you up, pretty baby. I’d feel so good.” 

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t sterile.

Your response either way was to rut against him. Though you were twitching from overstimulation, you wanted him to know you wanted it. A slick rolled down your thighs, and you could feel a groan from Joel reverberate through him. 

The sound of a dog barking outside thankfully drowned out your desperate moans. 

He held you tight, both of your bodies covered in a coat of sweat. Even though you were still hot, you couldn’t pull yourself away from his furnace of a chest. You could feel his dick softening in you after a couple more thrusts. 

“I want you, Joel. If you’ll have me.”

Things moved real easy after that. Joel wasn’t holding anything back anymore. He’d talk to you about anything you’d ask, and slowly moved in some of your personal items so you could sleep over more often. Pajamas in his drawer, got a spare toothbrush, and did anything he could to convince you to spend every night spread underneath him. 

Then you got it in the mail. You’d slipped away from Joel so you could do some laundry, despite how much he’d tried to convince you just to use up his water and detergent. Truthfully, you wanted to restock your necessities so you could keep spending each night with Joel. Plus, you need to water your plants.

When you stepped into your doorway, you glanced down at the spread of letters at your feet. Jeez, it really had been a couple of days since you’d been there last.

You crouched down to retrieve the mail, nothing piquing your interest until you landed on the UOD logo. 

University of Dallas. 

The paper shook in your hands when you ripped it open. There was no way.

Blah, blah, blah… accepted.

Accepted.

So many things flashed through your mind. All of the possibilities. The opportunities. 

You'd held it together long enough to do your laundry and water your plants. By the time you’d gotten what you needed and returned back to Joel, he was starting dinner. 

He hummed a Zeppelin song under his breath as he moved back and forth in the kitchen. Joel had made it almost a competition to become a good cook for you. He’d always cooked homemade meals for Sarah, but eating nothing but takeout for three years could make you lose your touch.

“What’s got you smilin’ like that? Stealing all those pretty little smiles from me,” Joel tsked, kissing you on the lips when you met him in the kitchen. You stood on your tippy toes to reach him, your mind buzzing from the taste of his lips and the scratch of his beard.

“I have something to tell you.”

Joel hummed, pulling back away from you. His eyes looked curious, moving to watch you uncover the envelope from behind your back. You held out the letter, allowing him the opportunity to read it himself. 

He scanned the page, his pupils moving back and forth to take in the information. The expression on his face changed slowly, turning what was once glee that you were back home into something entirely unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, instantly noticing the change in his demeanor. He sighed, handing the paper back over to you.

“Knew you’d always be the one to get out of this place. It's no surprise that some fancy college would want you.”

The bitterness in his words made you recoil in annoyance. Why couldn’t he just spit out whatever he meant instead of playing this intricate facadé?

“I thought you’d be happy for me,” you whispered angrily, turning to leave the situation, but Joel’s palm on your wrist stopped you. 

“Baby, of course I’m happy for you,” Joel explained, his free hand reaching to cradle your face. “I’ve only ever wanted the best for you, and I never doubted that you’d go out and do great things. It’s just… I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Joel, what are you talking about?” You laughed, watching a look of disbelief cloud his face. “I thought it was obvious that I wouldn’t leave this place without you. You’re coming with me.”

He hesitated, pausing as if he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to say. 

“Talk to Tommy. Tell him that you want to get back in the business. Go back to Dallas, to be with him. To be with me.” 

Joel released your wrist before rubbing a large palm down his beard, clearly not quite on board with your suggestion.

“Tommy don’t want nothin’ to do with me-“

“Be serious,” you said, cutting him off. “We both know that’s bullshit. You’ve told me all the stories about the both of you growing up, thick as thieves. He wouldn’t just give up on you. You just have to show him that you’re ready to change.”

The room was momentarily silent, thoughts and questions swirling through the space. Joel moved away to check on the food in the oven, and you waited, allowing him a moment to decide what he wanted to do.

He stood against the kitchen counter and finally spoke. 

“I don’t know.”

Joel looked scared, petrified to let himself be vulnerable with yet another person. He was constantly afraid of letting others down that he wouldn’t even allow himself to be momentarily uncomfortable. 

Your hands found his, wanting to comfort him by wrapping your palms around his own. 

“It’s okay not to know. It would be a big change, but I wouldn’t want to go through with it without you. If you don’t want me to go, then I won’t. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

His features softened at your words. “You’re too good for me,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was such a good man — a good father, a good friend, a good person, and you hated that he couldn’t see it. You wished you could take his shoulders and shake some sense into him, but knew your words would fall on deaf ears. “If you want to go, we go. And if you want to stay, we stay. But we do it together.” You pointed a finger at his nose. “You got that, Miller?”

Joel laughed softly. He placed his hands on your hips, pulled you close, and kissed your forehead. “Just…give me a couple days. Some time to think it over. Can you do that for me?”

You replied, “I’d do anything for you,” and meant it. 

Though it took more willpower than you’d originally thought, you bite your tongue for the following week. You didn’t want to pressure him into anything, hoping he’d decide organically. But the more time went on, the more restless you became.

Joel did a good job of distracting you, worshipping your body as if he was afraid it’d disappear in his grasp. One evening, your mind was running haywire after dealing with bullshit at work on top of dealing with your college application documents. 

You were lying in bed with him, attempting to read a book while Joel flipped through the television across from the bed. After reading the same paragraph for the fourth time without retaining any information, you groaned in frustration, tossing the book onto the floor. 

He recognized your stress, and knowing that he was a small contribution to the tension you were feeling, he sought to alleviate it. You found his head buried between your legs, his tongue prodding and guiding you to your release. Joel didn’t mind the way your thighs squeezed against his skull, and in fact, he encouraged the pressure of your legs.

Each time you reacted in excitement, Joel would find that sweet spot again and again, fingers scissoring, curling, making you shudder and arch away from his bed. 

He was a relentless lover, not allowing you to escape the wrath of his mouth. Joel’s palms pulled you back down as he held you in place, his iron grasp limiting your movement. He took advantage of your lack of control, allowing himself to devour you without any limitations. 

The shaking of your thighs and the increased whimpering from your mouth told him everything he needed to know; you were reaching your climax fast, and he wasn’t going to allow you to escape from his onslaught. 

“Wait,” you breathlessly pleaded, threading your fingers through his grey-streaked hair in hopes of slowing him down. Despite his age, Joel had the energy of a teenager, and a simple yank of your hands wouldn’t be enough to stop him. 

A few more laps of his tongue and a couple curls of his fingers were enough to have you falling apart in his grip. Your breath was stuck in your throat when you came, a white hot heat racing through your body like a bolt of lightning. 

A simple orgasm was never enough for Joel; you had learned that early on. He needed you to melt, to become a literal puddle of tears and sweat underneath him. Then, he would finally stop.

He continued to feast on you, his beard covered with your slick and his eyes watching you like a predator. 

“Please,” you begged, “Fuck, Joel, please.”

He ignored you, adding a third finger inside of you before pulling away momentarily. The sight of your slick coating his face with the hungry look in his eyes made your chest tighten with desire. 

“I know you can give me one more, baby. You were throwin’ yourself at me before, beggin’ for it. Want you to show me what you got.”

He didn’t allow a moment of reprieve, instantly diving back in to taste you like a man starved. You were attempting to push him away, but he wasn’t having any of it. Eventually, all of your resistance faded due to exhaustion, and all you could do was lie there, limp and motionless. 

Your mouth was half open, and your eyes were glued up at Joel’s popcorn ceiling when you finally climaxed again. A rush of wetness washed Joel’s face and hands, but he didn’t seem to mind; in fact, it urged him all the more. When he finally was satisfied, he pulled away from you, your sensitive body trembling against his ruined sheets. 

His dark, piercing eyes were locked on you when you finally came down from your momentary ecstasy. His face was dripping from your exertions, but he didn’t mind. It was almost petrifying to see how eager he was, and you knew that the night was just beginning.

“Think she’s finally ready for me,” Joel hummed, slapping his large palm against your overstimulated, puffy pussy. 

He was insatiable. It took one last orgasm from you and a couple of thrusts in your clenching, wet heat to get Joel to finally unravel. 

You’d never get tired of feeling Joel’s sweaty chest pressed against yours as he kissed you, whispering how lucky he was to have you wrapped up in his sheets. 

One night was different, though, and Joel knew he couldn’t just distract you with sex. You needed comfort - to know that he wanted to be all in with you, despite the pressure of the commitment. It was a lot to ask from Joel, but you couldn’t move on without him. You needed him.

You were tossing and turning in bed beside him, unable to find sleep, your mind spinning with all the possibilities that came with leaving town. You could be something, he could be something. All it would take is a little push, a change of scenery. If he decided to stay here, you knew you’d be content with him no matter what.

In a house he built or in this trailer, you knew Joel would always keep you happy. 

But would you come to resent him later on, the what-ifs weighing on your shoulders for years? Would the missed opportunities eat at you like a worm in your belly?

Joel turned onto his back with a heavy sigh. “Get it out, baby. Say what’s on your mind.”

“We…you deserve to keep living, Joel.” You propped yourself up on an elbow. And though he couldn’t see you, the room nothing but darkness, your brows pinched together in frustration anyway. “I could go to back to school, get a degree, find a good paying job where people don’t try to grab my ass for fun. And you could build houses with your brother again, or do woodwork or whatever you wanted. I…I’m going to say something, but I don’t want you to get mad. Promise you won’t get mad.”

He hesitated for a single second. And then said, “Alright. I promise.”

“What happened to Sarah wasn’t your fault. And you did everything you could, sacrificing your life in hopes of extending hers. And I wish…” Your voice cracked, and emotion bubbled up in your throat. “I wish so badly that things had ended up different for her. But they didn’t and I’m so sorry for it. And I…I didn’t know her well, but, Joel, I know this isn’t what she’d want for you. And you know it, too, don’t you?”

He responded with silence. You could hear only his breathing, slow and steady.

“You’re still here. You’re here, with me, and you deserve to live the rest of your life doing the things you love. You’re better than this place.” Tears welled in your eyes.

Joel put his hand in yours, and it took little persuasion for him to pull you against his chest. “Don’t cry for me, sweet girl,” he said softly. “We’ll talk more in the morning. Okay?”

And for the night, his promise was enough.

Joel made breakfast the following day. Pancakes and eggs and coffee just the way you liked it.

You ate on the couch with the weather channel on the TV in the background. The suffocating heat was finally coming to an end; summer concluded. You didn’t want to ruin the morning, but the anticipation kept you from enjoying your meal. “So…it’s the morning. Did you want to talk more about it, or…have you decided?”

Joel nodded and washed a bite down with a sip of coffee. “Yeah,” he said. “I decided.”

“And…?”

He spread out, making himself comfortable. “Well, I actually got a hold of Tommy the other day.”

“You what?” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst. “You called him? You didn’t tell me!” Breakfast forgotten, you tucked your legs beneath you and hid your anticipated smile behind your hands. “What did he say?”

Joel laughed. “Actin’ real hopeful for someone that said they’d be happy either way,” he teased. 

“I will be,” you reassured him. You inhaled deeply. “No matter what, we’ll be okay as long as we’re together. But…God, Joel! What did he say?”

For the first time all summer, he gave you a smile that reached his warm eyes. One that felt good and joyous and real. 

One that felt hopeful. 

“Should probably start packin’, baby.”

taglist; @realdirectionx @xxx-silhouette-xxx @cuteanimalmama @peelieblue

[shroomyv]

ᢉ𐭩-HALLWAY RUT

Pairing: mark grayson x f!reader

Synopsis: mark wasn’t even gone a few 24 hours and you two absolutely missed each other. You didn’t understand why—maybe there was “something in the air” but asoon as you got your hands on each other you didn’t let go.

Warning: mentions of blood here and there, cum consumption, riding, corny dialogue here and there.

W.C: 2.1k (sorry got carried away chat.)

A/N: WHEWWWWWW, hi guys. Ok so first I wanna say thank for you all the support on all my post and getting me to 135+ followers ts means so much to me genuinely. I did not think I was a good author in the slightest until you guys started to support me (obviously still have areas I can improve in but damn…yall rlly fw me 😞). I hope you guys enjoy this quick lil oneshot before I disappear and start working on more parts for the good boy series. Anyway enough yap, enjoy. (Also trying a smaller font style 😭 sorry for non-glasses wearers)

Desperate huffs for air filled the room—the sound of knocking against things was nothing compared to the sounds of desperation from both ends. It felt natural—it felt right.

Mark had just got back from a mission. For some reason, you two were basically on the same wavelength. As soon as he flew in through the window ripping off his mask—you practically leaped at him as you two began kissing each other deeply and passionately. You didn’t give a damn about the blood on his face or bruised areas.

You just had him back home—back in your clutch, back in your hold. You two sprawled around like wild fucking animals, banging against different parts of the wall, falling over things, and clearly fighting for dominance. It was satiating.

“Mmm- missed you, mphn- so much baby” Mark choked out in between kisses. You were on him like a mad woman as he held you up grabbing at your ass like it was dough. He was obsessed with you. The blood from his battle now on both of your faces—both of you were absolutely dirty and you hadn’t even had sex yet. Tossing and tussling for control with each other already had both of you sweating like it was summer.

“Mhm…mphn, missed you more, Mark.” Mark was loosing his grip on you a bit—you noticed and quickly corrected it.

“Hey…don’t let go you just got back” you complained knowing all you had to do was asked and it’d be fix

“Mhm…yes maam.” Mark said roughly as he gripped onto you tighter. His hands practically melting into your thighs to keep you up.

You two missed each other so fucking much—it hadn’t even been that long either, but something in both of you just snapped. You both needed each other…you were both longing for each other all day and finally got to each other.

Your legs eventually slid off of Mark's torso and you were back standing again. You pushed him against the wall as best as you could kissing him deeply before grabbing at his ass. His brow furrowed in an embarrassed way.

“Hey-“ he said in a huffy voice trying to be somewhat stern

“Oh, cmon…is it only ok when you do it now or something.” You said back smugly before kissing him deeply once again. He eventually turned the tables flipping you against the wall.

“Oh…I’ve missed you all fucking day Mark-“ you said in a sloppy tone looking back at him as best as you could. You stepped on his foot freeing yourself from his clutch as you were back on top again. You two fell over on the floor in the hallway as you started sucking at his neck.

“Oh fuck baby- you must really be itching to get it tonight-“Mark said raggedly, he was so ready to start. (Once he got back on top of course)

You grabbed at his suit pulling it off as best as you could. It wasn’t that hard since it was already ripped in certain places from him working earlier that day.

His hands grabbed at your clothes—he was sick of them making it harder for him to get closer to you. His hands turned to fist balling up your clothes before tearing them off like a fucking madman, the clothes ripped straight in half before he just tossed them to the side like they were nothing.

“Baby, that was the shirt you got me.” You whimpered out in complaints before Mark rolled over getting right back on top of you again.

“I’ll just buy you a new one, a new better one.” He said in huffs as he kissed at your neck like crazy. You were squirming under him like crazy. He gave you a soft smile as your eyes were trying to beam everywhere to avoid his face. He was smiling at you as if he wasn’t about to fuck the shit out of you.

He kept kissing your neck and face softly as one of his hands slithered down your body. He kept your thighs open as best as he could before rubbing at your clit softly with his thumb.

“Mark…ngh! Oh, Mark..” you cooed out as he bit into your neck softly while continuing to finger you. That man loved you to death and would make sure you were absolutely satisfied tonight. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

He rubbed at your clit as best as he could before popping one finger inside. He enjoyed how wet you were already just from the kissing. He was absolutely ecstatic that he was the only one who could get you like this that fast.

“Am I doing good baby…tell me if not,” Mark said gently as he stopped sucking at your neck to hear you. You wanted to speak so badly but felt like you couldn’t

“Gotta use your words…or I can’t help.” Mark smirked waiting to see if you’d speak or not. He was annoying but you loved it

“More…other finger, asshole…” you cooed out as your hand smushed his face. You looked like you were on the edge of cumming and he was just all giddy. Honestly, you wanted to be mad at it but it was somehow coming off as hot.

His other finger slid into you—it was like your hole had given it a warm welcome. His thumb still working at your clit and his fingers now sliding in and out. You were about to let go letting your eyes close.

“F…fuck…ngh- mark…”

He already knew you were about to pop just by the sound of your voice. He rammed his finger deeper trying to push you to your max as you came, your hole twitching on his fingers till he pulled them out.

You sat yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. He was sucking at his fingers till he got every last drop of your cum, even trying to scoop up any bits that came out of you. Your face was red like a cherry as you were aroused once again. It was no worry though since Mark was nowhere near done with you and you clearly weren’t done with him either.

You stared at his length before poking at it to bother him. You gave him an evil grin before he shot one right back at you. He scooped you up as fast as he could regaining control again. Your face was back pressed against that wall like when you two were kissing. He pointed your hips up as best as he could before whispering in your ear tenderly.

“Gonna be gentle…ok?” Mark wasted no time sliding into you. Your eyes go from squinted to wide open in pure ecstasy. Your pussy welcomed him in as if he was meant to be inside of you. You were most definitely drooling over that fucking wall and he had only slid himself in.

“Baby…you ok?” Mark asked softly before kissing your shoulder. He was always worrying—even when he didn’t need to.

“Yes…yes…less worrying…more pounding.” You cooed out tapping his thigh so he knew he could keep going. He huffed on your neck before kissing it harshly. He had your ok so he kept going.

“Yes ma’am…” he said as he began fapping himself in and out of you.

He tried to go slowly at the start, not wanting to put you through the wall—but you two just needed each other so fucking bad that the thought of that went away. Every second that passed, he sped up more and more. The sound of both of you moaning each other's names or speaking slurred filled the halls. His balls hit your pussy every time he pulled himself in and out of you—you just loved the sound, it let you know that you getting fucked right.

“Thought you…ngh…said you were going MPHM- gentle…” you said in a breathy tone as Mark kept your face smushed against the wall so it wouldn’t have your head banging on it.

The blood from you two sloppy kissing was now on the wall—you’d have to deal with that later because as of right now you were in pure bliss

Mark just kept speeding up before he eventually responded to what you had to say

“If you want me to…ngh…slow down just ask,” Mark said sensually as he was holding back for dear life. One hand keeping your face smushed against the wall—the other holding your hips up so he could rearrange your guts right .

You didn’t want him to slow down—you just wanted to be a little tease. You used your hand as best as you could since you couldn’t see it until you reached his thigh. You gave it a slap before grabbing it as you snickered a bit in between moans.

Mark grunted moving your hand away as best as he could. He let go of the hand holding your face as he popped your ass before he kept going. It was fair now.

“Mark!” You huffed out trying to get back at him for something you started.

“Babe…hands to yourself…or I'm gonna-“Mark said in a heavy tone—he was close to the edge and so were you.

“You’re gonna what…”

You wanted to need what he would do—you spoke in a absolutely challenging tone. He fapped inside of you are deep as he could now, you cummed covering his cock in your sticky mess. He pulled your hair back a bit—he had no intention of hurting you, it was just to latch onto you even more. He fapped one more time before cumming inside of you…he needed to pump himself inside of you.

Mark paused for a second before responding “I dunno…didn’t think that far.” Silence filled the air for a second—you could hear a pin drop until you started to chuckle a bit.

“What did I do something wrong..” Mark asked with a giggle as he burrowed his face in your neck kissing it softly.

“You’re stupid…” you said in a joking manner still laughing until Mark finally broke it with a kiss. You went from the wall to the floor in seconds as Mark held onto you for dear life

“Think you got one more in you?” He asked in a breathy tone having to break his kisses with you to get even a few words out.

“I don’t know—just find out and see.” You said brushing his messy hair away from his face so you could look at him better. You were stuck on his face just taking in every feature.

His soft eyes, his messy hair, his soft lips…you just kept staring until you felt a poke on your ass.

“You ok…? If you don’t wanna ride I can take over?” Mark got your attention back as you hadn’t even realized he had put you on top for this one. You just smiled at him softly before speaking.

“Sorry—stop working your fucking mind magic on me so I can start.” Before Mark could even question what the hell that meant, you raised yourself slowly before sliding down onto his cock. Your pussy welcoming him in once again. You pushed down onto his chest with excitement inside.

You were finally on top holding it down. Mark moaned out your name and a bit of swear words here and there as you were enjoying every second. You laid your face onto his chest holding onto his shoulders.

“I think I’m gonna speed up? M’kay” you said excitedly as you were still huffing for air yourself

“Oh god baby—ngh…you’re tryna break me aren’t you,” Mark spoke in a needy way as he was ready for whatever the hell you were about to throw at him.

Your lower half slowly rose and moved back down to prepare yourself for what you were about to do to him. At first, you went slowly but once you got the hang of it you sped up as fast as you fucking could. Your breast moving at the same speed as your hips as you stayed on him as best as you could. Mark would try to fap inside of you to help speed up the process—whenever he tried, you’d just kiss him deeply and hold his hands to his side. You were in control for this moment and wanted to keep it that way. Besides…you were liking this position.

You were on top, could see his face, and still had his arms around you occasionally…it was fucking perfectly.

You ignored every ounce of exhaustion in your body making sure you kept fapping yourself on him. He was in and out of you over and over.

The sounds of fapping and you two struggling for air filled the halls. Occasional chuckles left your mouth as you were absolutely enjoying every second. You came first tightening around the mark before you practically melted on top of him.

He wrapped his arms around your back tightly like a snake fapping into you himself a few times.

“Oh fuck…I’m…ngh…I’m cumming..” Mark huffed out before he squeezed you tight one more time before cumming.

You huffed for air on top of him as you 2 looked absolutely satisfied with the mess you just made. The bedroom wasn’t even a few steps away but you two needed each other that bad. You were both wild fucking animals—laying with each other, catching your air as best as you could.

“We gotta…do this again sometime,” Mark said brushing his hair back as he was absolutely amazed at what just happened. His hunger was satiated for the day. However…yours wasn’t

“Hey…you got one more in you, big guy?” You said tapping his thigh to get his attention.

Mark didn’t waste a second as soon as he got asked that. Once again, you were back on that hall floor.